Tag: betwixt and between

  • unami

    standing stones
    Photo by Suzanne Rushton on Unsplash
    i can't think in strawberry
    so i do not know that mind
    my thoughts are all unami

    fingers to lips to arm to heart
    drifting that ocean storm again
    acceptance of the taste i am

  • smudge away

    sage bundles in a pot for smudging
    Photo by Ginny Rose Stewart on Unsplash
    i root, now
    i sun
    i river oak
    through

    smudge away
    smudge away
    wash away
    stain

    i paint, now
    i slumber
    i stone sit
    through

    i river oak
    through

  • all bone at song

    Photo by pedram ahmadi on Unsplash
    i shadow as maiden
    i shadow as lake
    stone waters under
    of granite my eye

    pock and pit
    chip and ash
    fleck and form
    all bone at song

    i blood as my earthing
    i blood as my weir
    catch acorn when thorn 
    at river we heart

  • Campfire sessions — 02may25

    Campfire
    Photo by Ville Palmu on Unsplash

    A fog had descended on camp. It happens at times and, when it does, the fog reflects the flames in such a way that the immediate surroundings appear aglow but the campfire is quickly swallowed by the thick fog standing a few dozen yards away. I did not expect anyone to find me tonight as a result of being well within the betweens. So I warmed my hands and contemplated the thorns still visible on one side of the clearing: daggered things that would have screamed of a sepsis incurred within hours of being pricked by their sharp tips.

    The weald likes to keep its secrets. I may be the nominal warden of this place, but that does not mean that I know anything more than I need to about the darker spaces within. Of course, if there were need of the blackthorn’s protection, I would find I could slip within the hedge’s folds like a chickadee or wren. The weald protects its own as much as it wards.

    That is when a familiar and small voice spoke in my left ear.

    Hey, they said. Thought you could stand some company.

    (more…)

  • nightwash

    a path in the middle of a dark forest
    Photo by Wes Hicks on Unsplash
    underwater flowing
    over silt and stone
    rub skin, stream wash
    rub mud, you and me
    make land, this flesh
    make river, this blood
    rub wash, stream skin
    rub silt, me and you

    can't you hear them crying?
    can't you hear their scream?
    flesh and blood and silt and stream
    spirits in the night—

    originally posted 23jan2021

    I am taking a short break from blogging and have scheduled a few older poems to fill up the empty spaces in the interim.

  • an autumn stream

    Photo by Ronin on Unsplash
    the trails, ever twisting
    sometimes, even, to
    turn upon themselves
    — there are times we need to
    be reminded of old scenery
    it seems…

    soon, the autumn stream
    tumbling over rock & branch
    is on offer, familiar
    singing to me as i flow
    myself with it upstream

  • homage

    Photo by pedram ahmadi on Unsplash
    badh touched my shoulder
    as i held the remains of
    old friends in a wooden box

    i turned to the battle crow
    as she leaned forward
    laying her night beak
    on my pale lips in kiss
    numbing my flesh to tingle
    well after i woke under
    the reapers moon

  • out

    Photo by Kevin Hessey on Unsplash
    all out of space
    all out of time
    carving the sickle moon
    and dancing wrists
    i slip back to stone
    where blood runs thick
    perhaps it is home

  • etch

    Photo by Nicole Elliott on Unsplash
    eye closed become fells
    the pale and the grey
    lichen and moss the taiga
    blue, sage and stained

    this grows home and stone
    of a passing day, lost 

    etch me bone and twig
    paint me undercloud
    sway the cattails and
    rain down

  • tossing a rune — 27apr25

    the elder futhark rune, isaz
    here, we stand in stillness.

    cold still in beauty
    stone against flurry
    rimed eyes clear

    we chill flames
    burning too hot

    here, we stand.

    Another of my rune poems for a Elder Futhark rune selected at random. Today’s rune is isaz/isa, whose core meaning is “ice” and which secondary meanings are all those normally associated with ice: stillness, enchantment, beauty and, yes, stagnation, blockages and cold.

    I was thinking recently about sceadugenga.com and the runes found there and decided that, rather than let the domain lapse into a WordPress.com variant when the hosting period is up at that site, I will transfer the domain to this host and continue to own the domain. I will likely reduce the content to just rune-related matters, but the annual fee is nominal for continuing to own the domain name. I will likely have to overhaul the pages to correct for some of the elements that don’t transfer over to non-WordPress-hosted variations of sites, but I should probably do that anyway to correct how some of my understanding has evolved over time (continuously). The decision to refer to the rune as isaz instead of isa is reflective of some of that change in understanding.