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  • casting runes — 02dec25

    02Dec25 | 11.19 CST
    © 2025

    michael raven

    c: 251202.1119
    dagaz
    drawn to earth
    more than that just under
    ragged-hewn fingernails
    scratching at blood soil—
    toss aside your frame-drum
    and follow me down

    A rune poem, based on an Elder Futhark rune selected at random.

    Today’s rune is dagaz, which has been translated as “daybreak”, that transitional moment between night and day. By extension, it might also be interpreted as “twilight” and is representative of liminality, transformation, the space between worlds, and suggests walking in both the material world and otherworld.

    Please visit my Elder Futhark pages at sceadugenga.com for additional interpretations of the runes based on multiple references and personal reflection.

    tagged:

    dagaz, poetry, rewilding, rune

    filed under:

    poetry
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  • Half-penny thoughts — 02dec25

    02Dec25 | 09.19 CST
    © 2025

    michael raven

    c: 251202.0919

    Social network “suicide” is a strange kind of experience when you are doing it, not as a reactionary thing, but as a fully thought-out process with a staged approach.

    (more…)

    tagged:

    half-penny thoughts, social network deaths

    filed under:

    thinking
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    24 comments on Half-penny thoughts — 02dec25

  • some kind of old

    01Dec25 | 21.19 CST
    © 2025

    michael raven

    c: 251201.2119
    getting old is when
    you've lived too long
    after folks once laid odds
    on if you'd see
    twenty-nine

    it feels like
    some kind of old
    a very steel grey
    kind of day

    tagged:

    poetry

    filed under:

    poetry
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    5 comments on some kind of old

  • with pictures

    01Dec25 | 13.22 CST
    © 2025

    michael raven

    c: 251201.1322
    i kiss you with pictures
    windswept and forlorn
    with winter racing across
    the unfrozen pond
    everything stained scarlet,
    pierced pale & bruised black
    pricking skin in hoar
    to bring bright on pink

    i kiss you in pictures
    burning as flame draws fire
    burrow deep, now
    under the root's tangle
    bury me deep inside
    & draw me ever down

    tagged:

    betwixt and between, poetry

    filed under:

    poetry
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    4 comments on with pictures

  • casting runes — 01dec25

    01Dec25 | 11.16 CST
    © 2025

    michael raven

    c: 251201.1116
    mannaz
    flint to flesh
    scars to wash the blind
    she waits on blood to briar
    to staunch the stinging
    with her coldstone kiss

    A poem prompted by a randomly selected Elder Futhark rune.

    Today’s rune is mannaz, a rune that translates to “man” in the sense of “humankind”. The rune is associated with family and the social order, and in trusting the intuitive process or seeing clearly — both from within and from without. Mannaz influences relationships of all kinds, including those of a romantic nature and encourages compassion, for oneself as well as for others.

    Please visit my Elder Futhark pages at sceadugenga.com for additional interpretations of the runes based on multiple references and personal reflection.

    tagged:

    mannaz, poetry, rewilding, rune

    filed under:

    poetry
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    15 comments on casting runes — 01dec25

  • Death at the Wharf

    01Dec25 | 10.00 CST
    © 2025

    michael raven

    c: 251201.1000
    Photo by Izzy E on Unsplash

    I was murdered at Fisherman’s Wharf late one night in the month of July, way back when in 1995.

    (more…)

    tagged:

    betwixt and between, flash fiction, new weird

    filed under:

    prose
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    8 comments on Death at the Wharf

  • to see

    30Nov25 | 21.11 CST
    © 2025

    michael raven

    c: 251130.2111
    this nothingness,
    a rope around my feet
    marked in stains & aches
    burnt remains
    sullied & unclean
    grasping at waters
    waiting blind for to see

    go away cold
    i give hills empty

    tagged:

    betwixt and between, poetry

    filed under:

    poetry
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    7 comments on to see

  • Half-penny thoughts — 30nov25

    30Nov25 | 18.12 CST
    © 2025

    michael raven

    c: 251130.1812

    Sometimes dreams are just dreams. I get it — if all of our dreams were always meaningful, insightful and future-seeing, we’d put all of the oneiromancers out there out of business. Or give them panic attacks when we call them in to join us in the dreaming to help interpret and…

    Whatever.

    But there are dreams and the are Dreams. The proper noun versions demand you pay attention to their contents, which the other ones might linger on the fringes of memory until the morning fog burns off (if your lucky). And that’s only if they are particularly good or bad.

    (more…)

    tagged:

    dreams vs Dreams, half-penny thoughts, the dreaming

    filed under:

    thinking
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    8 comments on Half-penny thoughts — 30nov25

  • casting runes — 30nov25

    30Nov25 | 13.47 CST
    © 2025

    michael raven

    c: 251130.1347
    algiz
    a new arrival, fresh blood
    from unknown lands
    with diagrams, maps & charts
    speaking as they do up north
    while describing my pain

    "we must leach the poison,"
    he said in my tongue,
    "before you can walk
    the shadows once again"

    A rune poem, based on an Elder Futhark rune selected at random.

    Today’s rune is algiz, which may mean either “elk” (there is some uncertainty if this is the case) or yew (Old Norse). It is associated with the Otherworld, protection/sanctuary, and with guardian spirits/fylgja. The unconscious mind is sometimes associated with algiz.

    Please visit my Elder Futhark pages at sceadugenga.com for additional interpretations of the runes based on multiple references and personal reflection.

    tagged:

    algiz, poetry, rewilding, rune

    filed under:

    poetry
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  • idle thoughts

    29Nov25 | 19.55 CST
    © 2025

    michael raven

    c: 251129.1955

    I sometimes wish I could be the knight bewitched by La Belle Dame sans Merci. I might be doomed to an imminent grave, but at least I will enjoy heading to my doom.

    Or, perhaps, I feel more like hopping in my skiff and riding the stream after failing to keep my focus on the mirror, and looking at beauty riding on by as did The Lady of Shallot.

    Or give myself to the waters in a fit of madness, as poor Ophelia did.

    Who suffered more? Tristan or Isolde? Let me taste that joy in the time before they fell.

    This is all absurdity, and yet… and yet… At moments there was joy.

    tagged:

    melancholia, silly stuff

    filed under:

    thinking
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    20 comments on idle thoughts

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