Best Valkyries Poems
you
are the
love song my
soul never seeks,
for your lyrics live
in the constant chorus
where a poet bleeds desire,
and wistful nightingales covet
the silent dreams of a witching rose,
tracing starry wrinkles of lonely skies ~
while I hear your heart hum hibiscus hymns
to the frost moon and the smitten breeze,
as I subtly kiss the cadence
of an opera octave,
orchestrating a dusk
of finger-pressed hope
O beloved,
hold my night
when hurt
drowns
the
voice of
mystery ~
a violin
verse between venom
and Venus, blind to our
truth, we are the warriors,
the Valkyries and Berserkers,
reborn from diamonds of devotion,
a musical storm of Norse wilderness...
L o v e ~ a crippled nightingale
b u r n i n g in bronze tears
of tornadoes,
limping and writhing,
screaming for release,
but
what if I am the mistress
of glass-cut dreams,
crowned with
razor-edged regrets,
and splintered serenity?
Would the raven breeze
then cocoon my soul
with delicate doom,
fueled by petroleum promises,
searing in deadly flares,
as if I were destined
to be a victim of
vindictive vengeance,
torn and tainted,
chained in poisoned
strings of pearls,
a reflection of resignation,
of how kismet calligraphies
draped me in haunting ivory,
as the devil’s widow,
of when I vowed to serve
chastised chamomile,
of the night my innocence
was baptized in infected rivers,
rippling and ricocheting~
bleeding black with thorns…
O deranged twilight,
my heart aches in angst,
singing scars beneath
starless spheres,
where the moon is silenced,
eclipsed by the sun,
and the earth sighs
an unheard requiem
for the fractured skies,
stirring nocturnal feathers
to flutter and soar
in sync with the
beautiful tragedy,
while I lie in a sealed casket,
adorned with russet trinkets,
shadowed in macabre musings,
breathless and bruised,
alive, yet void of purpose
awake but sleep-walking
like an insomniac corpse
lost in the lethal gaze of life,
tracing emblems of the Valkyries,
caged between
the rising of dawn
and frozen dusk,
pondering if this is the end
of the beginning~
a cursed reincarnation,
as I see no escape
from your ill-omened grip~
a casualty of your cruelty,
I remain,
caught in the desolate
haze of h a t e…
I know I’ve made a thousand journeys,
withstood the tests of time and foe
shed the dust and shouldered worries
struggled onward against the flow.
Unconforming, seldom bending
straight the path I ever took.
Challenge was my unending passion
contradiction I forsook.
I’ve battled tempests ‘fore and ‘hind me,
I’ve seen the devil at my heels.
Seldom knowing what lay before me
never knowing how respite feels.
I’ve seen the Valkyries and Forty Furies
their mazy circles in the sky,
taunting, haunting, ever daunting
beckoning from their aeries high.
I’ve crossed the searing sands of Gobi
and scaled Himalaya’s rocky tors,
badlands, wastelands all behind me,
walked upon the Seven shores.
I’ve gazed upon the Northern Lights
and seen the Southern Cross at sea.
I’ve traveled east and journeyed west,
no home or kindred claiming me.
No ebb of tide did succor bring me,
no place of solace ever found
but grappled fiercely all that challenged,
gaining purchase on the ground.
I rose against what life beset me
with courage the gruel for my soul,
hampered, harassed, never emptied,
firm and resolute toward my goal.
But it’s finished now, I’ve done my part
and I’ve left nothing uncompleted.
No looking back, no ruing thoughts
all my convictions undefeated.
And now I’m on that final journey
through all meridians of time and space,
with hope to meet the God that gave me
aeonian fortitude to run the race.
© August, 2015
no more ringing
in my ears always
being Quasimodo
screaming about
the bells
i set my house
phone ring tone
to play a MIDI
Wagner Ride
of the Valkyries
and my cellphone
wake up alarm tone
is Bach's cello
bourree which
peacefully draws
me from my sleep
but the machines
at work later take
over so yelling
becomes
the norm for
speaking so
now i adorn
headphones
after work
to muffle
the rapid
discharge
of shots
at the shooting
range
In Asgard, kingdom of the mighty God Odin
A place awaits all battle fallen warrior heroes
It's in Valhalla where there is endless feasting
And an ending of all griefs and sorrows
The Valkyries, Odin's warrior daughters
Carry the fallen heroes from the battlefield
To Valhalla to join other fallen warriors
Where they are restored to life fully healed
Each day the warriors fight on Asgard's plain
Their battle skills to sharpen and maintain
Every evening wounds and injuries they sustain
Are healed and each warrior made whole again
They dine on liquor and fresh cooked meat
That is always in great abundance for all
Providing a delicious gourmet treat
At Odin's banquet in Valhalla's dining hall
July 18, 2014
Addition:
Here is the poem which aroused my childhood interest in the Vikings, and to
which I referred in my reply to Shadow. I would like to share it with others.
It is "The Sea King's Burial" by Charles Mackay. It recalls the days when a
Viking chief died and his body was placed in a boat. The vessel with full sail
set and a fire lighted, was then sent drifting out to sea. It is a long poem so I
am only quoting the first and last verses:
My strength is failing fast
(Said the sea-king to his men).
I shall never sail the seas
Like a conqueror again,
But while yet a drop remains
Of the life-blood in my veins
Raise, oh, raise me from my bed,
Put the crown upon my head,
Put my good sword in my hand,
And so lead me to the strand,
Where my ship at anchor rides
Steadily;
If I cannot end my life
In the crimsoned battle-strife
Let me die as I have lived,
On the sea.
.......................................
Once alone a cry arose,
Half of anguish, half of pride,
As he sprang upon his feet,
With the flames on every side.
"I am coming! " said the king,
Where the swords and bucklers ring,
Where the warrior lives again,
Where the souls of mighty men
And the weary find repose,
And the red wine ever flows,
I am coming, great -All-Father,
Unto thee!
Unto Odin, unto Thor,
And the strong, true hearts of yore:
I am coming to Valhalla
O'er the sea."
http://www.rampantscotland.com/poetry/blpoems_seaking.htm
In the bay of icy mists, the viking ghost ships arrive, sails set full ahead,
Crashing anchors rattle loose, plunging beneath the cold murky surf,
As the hailing horns of the dead, announce to their lord, Odin, that
Valor's courageous have arrived, and wish to enter, the great halls of
Valhalla.
Here the cold winds of the north dwell, it's chilling
Breezes flow freely, through the phantom warriors spirits.
But these rough men fear not death, nor it's harsh breath, for they
Are vikings of the northern kingdoms, and they have come for
Their last rewards treasure, to enter beyond the gates of Valhalla,
And are armed ready to fight, beside their God Odin,
In victorious battle.
In these waters of the ethereal unknown passage,
The cracking and heaving, of these heavily
Laden vessels made of vapors thin mists,
Send an eerie chill down the backs, of mortal men.
As mountain icebergs float upon the wind
Chilled oceans surface, the Valkyries approach,
Smiling beneath their shimmering chain-mail of
Brilliance honor.
On the evergreen shores, a timbered lined hall stands,
It's gates of golden pitch blaze, with fires white
Hot flames of those concurred, their souls scream
For penance mercy.
Two long swords, Chris-crossed are the gates steel dead bolts lock,
Above it's embers glow, a fierce eagle with red crimson eyes,
Grapples, it's sharpen claws, cutting deeply into the oaken shields,
On the thatched roof of the golden hall.
A lone wolf beneath therein, passes sniffing at the
Garments of the fallen men, if fears scent, the wolf so smells,
Cast out is this soul, and dammed it is forevermore.
Within the many souls do enter, a hardy welcoming at the feasting
Table mead and honey wine, is set before these hero's of honor.
But outside the ships remain tethered, awaiting for their masters safe
Return, unaware of Thor's approach, his mighty hammer set at the
Ready.
Striking with thunders raw force, the hammer of power,
Brakes against the sheer ice, as quick as the lightning's flash,
Freezing tidal waves clash upwards, swallowing whole all evidence,
That these ghost ships ever existed.
Oh Valhalla, I pledge thee my life, my fighting spirit, my blood and
Body given in the name of Odin, for thy honor sake, shall I live and die,
Behold the vow's pledge of these Nordic men, known as the Vikings.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Wandering through the dreamy clouds on her golden chariot
swift as wind, glistening wheels throwing sparks of gold and silver.
Pulled by the pretty sapphire cats with glowing florescent eyes,
lighting up the sky with bursting shimmers and glimmers of zeal.
She is Freyja, "The fair one" they call her in their humble appeal.
A 'Vanir' Goddess draped in nobility and glory circling the skies
with floating golden hair and gleaming complexion of skin like silver.
Showering the earth with treasures of fertility; the joy of worth.
She is Freyja, "The fair one" they call her...
The most beloved Deity is not just a fragile beauty by birth.
But also the Queen of perished warriors, slain in battles for honor.
Riding on a golden war boar, she commands the 'Valkyries' on horses,
"Garner their spirits, their lost souls and take them to 'Folkvang'."
Enshrouded with after-life's bliss; greeted by the Swan Maiden's gang,
their endured souls are carried away on heavenly white horses.
Taken to the hall of fame away from the blood thirsty battles of horror
Now the warriors are overjoyed and honored with flattery and flirt.
She is Freyja,"The fair one" they call her...
Shedding rueful tears of gold and amber she once roamed all around,
looking for her lost love of life with shattered heart in shards.
No wonder why she is the Goddess of love invoked by jolted lovers.
But she is also invincible with untamed free will at times of call.
Protected with a necklace made of melting fire,'Brisings' they call
and a cloak of feathers transforms her into a watchful falcon's attire.
She explores the mysteries of hour to seek out the truth from fate’s guard.
Her enigmatic persona, her magical ways no one can bound.
She is Freyja, "The fair one" they call her...
Date : 09/08/2016
In years gone past, as thunder rode a stark and blackened sky
in Thor’s abode lived Valkyrie’s, women such as I.
Virtuous, valiant, shield maidens, brought victors on high
Virgo’s, surely, sisters all, who ordered those who died.
Judges true of pure intent whose honor none belied
for all of life seeks order, if chaos would be denied.
An independent nature every Virgo’s does maintain
with thoughts of selfless causes and the shunning of acclaim.
With fire and fidelity your Virgo’s never tame
but, you can trust a Virgo’s, a Valkyrie all the same…
I fell in battle, sword in hand,
Invading someone else’s land.
Then I saw her, and she reached down,
To escort me from the battleground.
I’d let her take me anywhere,
With her winged helmet and braided hair.
She had me stand ‘neath Odin’s throne,
Where each warrior must stand alone.
One-eyed Odin judged me to be
Worthy to serve in his last army….
Daily killed and resurrected--
(Not quite the afterlife expected!)
Samurais taught me to sword-fight.
I learned spear and shield from a Hoplite.
Vikings taught me the battle axe,
And the Persians taught me sneak attacks.
We die each day and then come back,
Always practicing for Ragnorak.
She brings me mead, my Valkyrie,
And sometimes at night she favors me.
Since she’s nearby, it’s just as well--
This isn’t Heaven, but not quite Hell.
We’ll fight and sing to the war drums,
Waiting the day that Ragnorak comes.
(Chorus)
Our days are spent in miseries,
But at night we have the Valkyries.
Riposte and lunge, thrust and parry;
That’s all we do in Odin’s army.
Vallaha as Valkyries scream from
the depths of hell.
Charging out
into the vacuum
of an unoccupied mind
deafening all who listen
to their monstrous cry
from the bleak wilderness
called Vallaha.
Scream out to Odin
the scourger, charmer, enchanter.
Bewitched sinner sirens,
resonant, ensouling the strings
of unattended souls.
Lyrics whispered into
the trance of an ephemeral ballet
yet, appearing
epic in length and nature.
From Valhalla’s fortress of spears and shields,
Valkyrie riders make their daily runs…
Crossing Bifrost to Midgard’s battlefields,
Harvesting warriors till Ragnorak comes.
Flying from Valhalla on their war horses,
Thundering hooves beat like old battle drums,
Odin’s blond daughters watching the forces--
Harvesting warriors till Ragnorak comes.
Legionnaires, Pikemen, Hussars and Spartans;
Storm Troopers, Crusaders and Saracens;
Musketeers, Vikings, and Gladiators;
Watusi, Cossacks, and Conquistadors.
As long as men hear the sounds of war drums,
They’ll harvest the best till Ragnorak comes.
Valkyries search for those to stand vanguard,
Recruiting Odin’s Einherjar armies.
Warriors pass Valgrind to live in Asgard--
Honored to be served by the Valkyries.
Hoplites, Commandoes, and Mujahideens;
Samurais, Yeomen, and US Marines;
Guerrilas, Dragoons, and Panzer Tankers;
Grenadiers, Mamelukes, and Bezerkers.
As long as men hear the sounds of war drums,
Valkyries harvest till Ragnorak comes.
where bones are picked cleaned by talons crook's of raven-wives like steely ice-picks dripping of the Valkyries verb-thieves of morpheme drain the meaning through sunken wind-eyes of cloudy skulls in the sky the bearer of speech-figures forums of a Norman's-ransack shutting one's eye bare-shirts run away to rid hawk's ground of Kenna's-abode
yore's measure-tree nigher are's not having scrapes-inn but all are vital framers-anvil lost tropes of the metaphor this saga was shy not a peep from windows of the folk so now I must not cut but again write not to RE:WRITE so some can better see learning knew ways breaking yokes free verse at first but now a inquisitive rhyme Word meanings fly away through windows of time snatched by Harpy's torn from memory buried in the field of a long ago rhyme but digging deep you find teasures stolen by Valkyries like a grotesque pic surely strown by death's scythe arm loads of gold stored ready weapons for another warrior which in another time may be erased but not today hold the sword's wife writing again holding high and protecting the courier of the quarrier by word of scop not to stop but increase your scope
Death's dark angel
Black carriage drives
Collecting lives
Final rewards
The carriage has
Matching horses
Pulling courses
All of them black
Death follows you
All of your life
Toil and strife
Can't escape Him
When it's their time
They all object
There's no respect
Everyone dies
Thanatos rides
The Banshees cry
Valkyries fly
None of them care
Mark Halliday
Ride a Pathya Vat contest - Carriage theme
5 Aug 2014
Did you hear the thunder overhead?
Arise, arise ghosts of the dead
See the lightning flash in the black sky
Watch the rain fall before our eyes
Feel the earth as it begins to shake
Now rising Odin finally awakes
Look and you'll see the Valkyries
An ancient thousand year old prophesy
Has come to the light and reigns true
Spared only will be the chosen few
I look to the future without any fear
For I know that Ragnarok is here
A guttural yell, his glare on me:
“Next you I shall fell, the heathen ye!”
Abroad-sword up-held, he made his charge:
From gored-haze unmeld, o’er corpses barged.
Lurid darkness seeped, into our minds:
In frenzy we leaped, our blades malign.
Iron imploded, and blood galore:
Forsooth Odin sang, of savage chore.
Post berserk fray by, mutual expiry:
Awesome in the sky, lo! Valkyries!
They galloped and soared, spying the dead:
The brave they hallowed, so to us said:
“You two brutes have fought, zealous causes:
‘fore Ragnarok brought, join our forces!”