• the badb

    michael raven

    The Badb card from the “Oracle of the Morrigan” card deck
    we old crow frenzy
    leaving trails of scarlet
    trailing off in fresh fallen snow
    standing tall of stone north
    we are not your sacrifice
    we are not your country
    we are flint & steel

    battle cry & cauldron
    we stand of october
    swinging blackthorn
    without an ounce of fear

    Disclosure: My use of those tools most often associated with divination are largely as randomized writing prompts, often with the intent of personal alchemy. They are not intended to be representative of traditional divinatory practice. My personal interpretations (and methods) will likely not agree with those found in popular culture.

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    the badb

  • Torture, pt 3

    michael raven

    close up photo of yawning cat
    Photo by Serena Koi on Pexels.com

    Well, you knew there was going to be more to this drama. The mouth pain fading off with the sunset was never an option.

    As of Saturday, my mouth was tender on the left side, but improving on a daily basis. I was all ready to blame my enflamed gums resultant from flossing and brushing malpractice by the owner (me) for my mouth hurting. Gradual improvements with diligent flossing and brushing supported the idea.

    I ate breakfast on Saturday and went to one of those wholesale clubs to stock up on food. One of the things I like to pick up as a diabetic’s alternative to candy are nuts to snack on when I feel a little peckish. So I picked up a variety while I was shopping to have around.

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    Torture, pt 3

  • Leaving on a jet plane

    michael raven

    Photo by Lukáš Vaňátko on Unsplash

    I haven’t heard John Denver’s song in multiple decades (until today) and yet… It comes to mind for whatever reasons such things come to mind when I started to think about my impending road trip beginning about midweek. It doesn’t even fit with the theme in which the song was thought to be written for, which is generally how these things work. I’m not going off war, nor standing outside the door of a young beau looking for a last kiss before I leave, and I plan to be back home by the end of next week (so I know when I’ll be back again).

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    Leaving on a jet plane

  • imagine

    michael raven

    Photo by Kaleb Brown on Unsplash
    to fall out of lifetime
    into dream embraces
    and forget an outside
    imagine

    careful, clouds
    glide against ever blue
    falling up into the you
    imagine

    lost roads in drift
    over the hills and
    far away, a heaven to
    imagine

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  • hazy daze

    michael raven

    Photo by Harald Pliessnig on Unsplash
    hazy daze drifting through
    a forest filled with mists
    a shrouded day of
    memory's ghosts & steel

    careless wraithing
    a bone wight shamble
    given to the otherside
    casting about for home

    dewdrops on the pale
    naked for the grey
    a rumble within shadow
    stalking unseen

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  • judgment

    michael raven 

    i  swear
    i always intend
    to get out more
    meet new friends
    do new things
    but—

    peopling terrifies me now
    when every word or action
    is a litmus test to
    determine tribal
    affiliation

    it seems more sensible
    to stay at home
    and not subject myself
    to the world’s
    casual judgment

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  • half-penny thoughts | 18jul25

    michael raven

    Image of a writing journal and a pencil.
    Photo by Dariusz Sankowski on Unsplash

    I visit plenty of places on the internet lately for or by writers and I recently encountered this strange theme on one site where all of the writers seemed to all be posting in the theme of “you’re a great writer, keep writing” affirmations for each other. Some were even pretty self-congratulatory (“yes, I like my own posts and I am not ashamed to”). Still others were of the “everyone here is the best writer”.

    Now… I’m not against encouragement. I’ve even partaken in it myself. But when it becomes a common, daily and reoccurring theme… I have the strong urge to pinch my nose and walk away from that kind of community. Even if it is well-intended community-building, it still smells like bullshit.

    Write, don’t talk about how great everyone else’s writing is (and god-forbid, don’t tell me how great you think your own writing is).

    What do you think?

    Am I just being a humbug? Or does it feel like a weird kind of phony? Do these folks really mean it? Or are they just saying it, hoping that others will pay it forward until it boomerangs back?

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    half-penny thoughts | 18jul25

  • murder

    michael raven

    Photo by Aleksei Zaitcev on Unsplash
    a murder outside and
    a drive-by suicide
    laughing, what a joke

    waiting for red fox
    waiting for red show

    chewing on that razor wire
    where did you think
    you might go?

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  • careless memory

    michael raven

    person foot on water
    Photo by Kaique Rocha on Pexels.com
    i stone eye see
    wondering at
    the fuss of things made
    while even more words
    make timberfall from
    scythed crescent to
    sunset canyon walls

    no more false assurances
    no more casting out lines
    this tightrope is far too thin
    but this tightrope is mine

    step once a million rivers
    passing over and by—
    careless memory
    carry me to night

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  • Campfire Sessions — 16jul25

    michael raven

    Campfire
    Photo by Ville Palmu on Unsplash

    You’re learning, says Raven. A bit soft in the head, but at least you’re progressing.

    I put another piece of kindling in the flames, keeping the fire. It’s fire season in the forest. While there is no big risk of flames causing mass destruction here, of all places, I try to be mindful of the possibility and restrain the firebug inside. It seems like that critter has vacated anyway, which is just fine by me. My inner firebug got me into as much trouble as fun over the years and I’m tired of manufactured crises.

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    Campfire Sessions — 16jul25