On fir boats fraught with barley, folk of fur and barn sail, Through farmer wealds and polder fields, they lower the down and dale. All of life, and all of longing, lies locked in reach. Do come the trouble, the rumble, the rubble, the brevity veil is breached. Of fire is known the finer nodes … Continue reading Poem: Hades laid bare.
Of all art that shall fade, shall be art once widely known. But they who have to suffer, can make history their home. The artists that will wither, are the ones who shall remain. Their stories known to all, like Pac, Vicious and Cobain. Other music will linger, though its message becomes lost. Who desires … Continue reading Poem: Moros
Mid-lent Sunday, plough Monday, Shrove Tuesday, Michaelmas and more. The Ballgames and Tansies of Easter, and even the egg knock will soon turn lore. Shouldn't I know of Saint Barbara, who blesses my home? What even are the Ides of March, of shakespearrian moan? Is history to be treasured, or to be buried by the … Continue reading Poem: Dying Light
Lamentation With every achievement and every treatment, every moment of pride and ill-found respite, my nemesis grows its carapace form and corrupts my corpse to the very bone.
Our cattle turned fat, Raised on warm soil, Our crops grew full, Under plentiful rain, Our sons seasoned strong, Never knowing winter, The king’s heir was born, Svennir, warrior of Svinn. .... ....
In Svinnerhal, the King stood tall, Reaching high and wide. In his hall, he spoke to those, in whom he could confide. His icevein thanes, and long-gnarled jarls, His housebound spouse, and north-haul thralls. Those few of his who came from foreign shores, Those few Svinn trusted to pass into his hearth. ...
Perched high upon his skyward throne, the mountain lion makes his home, not wind nor rain nor wicked snow, can down the king from high to low. From hoofs to claws to flapping wings, all proclaim the lion, king. For all the living scattered things, know the laws that nature sings. To swipe and maw, … Continue reading Poem: Fang and Claw
At approximately 18 degrees northern latitude and 100 degrees eastern longitude the dragons make their home. In those northern reaches of Thailand wilderness I have discovered them. In the humid jungle, generations of dragons have toiled to build the most grandiose of places. A city fitting for gods, where they soar through the skies. ... ...
She stares into the mirror at that figure most familiar adorned with locks of silver that shimmer and mystically glimmer
Prepare peasants, Puffles' power produces panic, Prince Puffles Plunders public places, Punishes praying preachers, Purges protesting people, Promotes pimping prostitutes, Prohibits presses, Proliferates plagues, Prevents parades, Pollutes plants, Pulverizes pirates, Perpetually perverts particular pitiful princess-procuring plumbers, Perturbs peace, Perfidiously personifies police, Pilfers parliament, Pillages planets, Pesters presidents, Pauperizes populations, Procures prohibited private property, Proliferates problematic … Continue reading Poem: Prince Puffles