hand cast stones at
the nothing of alone
washing the waves
on over my night eyes
even the wights wait
to speak, chewing silence
scoring steel with flint
seeking sparks in empty
skrit skrat skreet
we are the ravens
at their clams
sputtering flames
we gather to heat
chill bones
from her source
the first kiss of winter
to her river flows
taking up blackthorn
i seek to pathfind
her snows
Another rune poem of mine, where the rune is selected at random.
Today’s rune is laguz, which has a core meaning of “lake” and, by extension, may be interpreted as “river”, “ocean”, “sea”, “waterfall” or a general body of water. Some alternative interpretations define as “leek”. Following the more commonly accepted meaning, bodies of water were considered liminal spaces, a place between life and death or the threshold space between which spirit and substance resides.
crack hands old oak
wrapped around my love
i hollow the heartwood
until she slips inside
she comes the winter
she comes the night
she comes the winternight
pinpricks my body torn
needles dance my arms
we sickle under midmoon
white kissed before we're born
she comes the winter
she comes the night
she comes winternight
barbed the wires crossed
and i... and i...
shut up the inside, waiting
for the winter door
to swing wide open
so i fly
night against white
and stop making sense
to all who might listen
barbed the wires crossed
lacking transmission
wind strumming over snow
to bring out the singing
humming across the moors
building up the drifts
to blanket the whole
wayfinding the fair
following the blood she
leaves for dolmen stones
to mark her where
for come november
when lovers lie claimed
entwined in her river flow
'til whispers call to wander
the burning fields won
under the forests below
unconfidante but for
ravens and crows
campfires and ghosts
gone blind due to reading
gone silent for song
conspiracy and murder
have taken all tongue
broken fingerbones
have stolen all tone
shh, now childe
sleep within sedges at
green gone wild
not fuzzy
not prickly
more prickly fuzz
or fuzzy prickles
in a world full
of shoeboxes to
put these things
within
those left over
cast sparse
in the backyards
of the dream
forgetting how to read
my books given to tinder
and letters gone to rust
a kiss the only verse
i know
i might refrain your eyes
on hours, if howevers allow
over endless ribbons
on sky's raven road
do your stars
cut at flesh
when caught
on the fall?
tangletown dreaming
arterial roots weaving
entwined, your eyes
chipped onyx flecked
and flint in the corners
windows wide and riding
the tall beasts fell
to that old beat howl
all mouths gaping at
how beautiful you are
No. How could you possibly
understand? You would need
the books and coin-covered
eyes to see. Crossing that river
that seems a stream and, if you
do, you could never look back.
you look skies, but
some say prayers
over a sea of sand
in cities of dust
come the ash driven
like the snow
while i say mine
