I’ll admit that I haven’t been listening to music so much as playing it since I picked up my bass guitar, so I’m going to fall back on a band used to help seed my original exploration, Kælan Mikla, a three-piece band from Reykjavík, Iceland.
(more…)Towards the Within — Næturblóm
© Sebastian Iskra, listed as “free to use”. To like, click comments or:
Towards the Within — Næturblóm
red dirt
Photo by Wes Hicks on Unsplash sitting the red dirt
casting needle bone raw
hey fox, ho owl
what tales do winds tell?
given to ghost on promise
tied leather, wrapped lace
turning on bright flame
if the memory serves you
well
sitting the red dirt
between pine and swell
hey owl, ho fox with
promises winds tellTo like, click comments or:
red dirt
Another Half-Penny Thought
I sometimes wonder what prompts people to answer questions which were never asked.
I think back to myself, “Did I ask anyone about their preferences when it comes to pie? No. I only mentioned I had a slice of apple pie with my lunch.”
And yet, someone tells me: “I am totally not an apple pie person, I can’t understand how anyone could ever eat apple pie because apple pie is gross.”
I scratch my head and say the only thing that seems sensible to say:
“Cool story, bro’.”
I sometimes have to fight the urge to flash two thumbs up.
Is it just me? Or do you encounter these kinds of random responses when you make otherwise neutral statements?
It’s not as if I said, “Everyone must love apple pie! Apple pie is the best pie of all pies ever made! Fight me if you think otherwise!”
To like, click comments or:
Another Half-Penny Thought
unexpected outcomes
Photo by Suzanne Rushton on Unsplash mad hare, what drove you
to dodge the night fallen snow
from here to there and back again
all dizzy in your frenzy?
it seems you lost your head
the large crow said, as he
cleaned up the mess of you
left out in the yard behindTo like, click comments or:
unexpected outcomes
neverclean
Photo by Dariusz Sankowski on Unsplash this grove mine to closed
sometimes gardening doubt
within the septic thorn
black in blood scratched
crosscut and hatched hidden
behind a thin pale veil
draped across my heart
in nevercleanTo like, click comments or:
neverclean
To Stone
Photo by Wes Hicks on Unsplash You and I, we hung moon in arctic turquoise skies above the gravestones of friends buried in the Evernight. For remembrance, certainly, but also for that our own souls could the words to move on. To find our smoke and ride the starry road North to Stone.
Ancestors, they came to our Gathering Flame; those sitting as were wont to sit, those standing as were wont of standing. All sought the Strange dancing in the flames, be they feather, flesh or fur. Even the alder man came, his sap reddening ran.
And they spoke at length for fourteen days of gloam, each giving words to carry to the below or for how they must be brought. We gathered and, just before the dawn meant for leaving shores, all gathered and sang to welcome the sun adorned.
One step, then four, we entered wearing our horns and gave to follow the floes, leaving the snowfells behind. And Ancestors? They watched, forlorn, each wishing in their own way our safe journey on to Stone.
To like, click comments or:
To Stone
killing jar
Photo by Dariusz Sankowski on Unsplash shake, twist the flame
dancing on the edge
give shout and no one
seems to hear
becoming flutter
all wraith and dream
with a voice gone mute
and eyes, no longer see
a history on display
inside for the killing jarTo like, click comments or:
killing jar
Watch your step
Photo by Ville Palmu on Unsplash Investigations of another kind…
Which is worse?
- Having dreams that can never come true, or
- No longer having those dreams that can never come true
There’s is place in this forest haunted by ghosts and regret. Myrkr and madness linger at the centre. Here be monsters. Some are framed in mirrors.
This is the way, step inside.
To like, click comments or:
Watch your step
Bass Instincts
Photo by Juan Montana on Unsplash Any of you who read comments (or more than surface level at what I write) will have likely figured out that I went and bought myself a low- to mid-range electric bass last night. It may seem rather sudden, but it has been part of my thinking for quite a while. Years, in truth. And several months in earnest. I don’t just drop money on anything over $25 without some serious thought.
So it wasn’t on a whim, as much as it might have seemed to have been.
(more…)tagged:
filed under:
To like, click comments or:
Bass Instincts
burning books
Photo by Ville Palmu on Unsplash these witching hour dreams
what are they supposed to
mean?
that chapter has long been
burned at the stake i cannot
will it into being
leave now, o ghost
so perhaps we can dream
another life
where our books no long burnTo like, click comments or:
burning books
