The woman of the day cables brought us a decorated egg
I would have rather had some ale, in a sturdy looking keg
Our crocodile-like creature wanted to taste the egg of course.
The blue bird of happiness was irritated, we call him Mr. Norse.
A dragon with a striped tummy showed up carrying a sign.
Everyone stand down, the woman yelled, that dragon is all mine.
We had no idea what happened to him, but she was all upset.
Mr. Norse who is a gloomy goober said “she will eat him, I do bet.”
The woman of the day cables brought us a decorated egg
I would have rather had some ale, in a sturdy looking keg
Our crocodile-like creature wanted to taste the egg of course.
The blue bird of happiness was irritated, we call him Mr. Norse.
A dragon with a striped tummy showed up carrying a sign.
Everyone stand down, the woman yelled, that dragon is all mine.
We had no idea what happened to him, but she was all upset.
Mr. Norse who is a gloomy goober said “she will eat him, I do bet.”
You shall be the father of Medicine decreed the Spirit God.
That’s no fun! Replied Eir, the only Norse on the island of Nod.
Medicine folk are staid, stuck up, particular, persnickety and odd.
I will add merriment to your assignment Medicine and Merry.
That delighted Eir’s sister, who was named Creative Carrie.
She quit smiling when Spirit God said “you are in charge of your brother Jerry.”
She raises her façade to greet the dawning sun;
Yggdrasil a goddess, the empyreal one.
Tree of life, tree of hope, in sunlight’s kiss;
nurturer of the winged, in ethereal bliss.
She births her children with or without light;
nature’s sacred, matriarchal and wizened sprite.
Fronds of green, adorn her brow while
varied lichens are sprouted on boughs.
Nine worlds she guards, this venerable soul;
nine worlds her gasp will forever hold.
Concepts held of cosmogony;
concepts of origins of anthropogeny.
Symbol of the great of visica piscis;
a link of Tetragrammaton devices.
A soul is born of spiritual essences;
into many lives, existence coalesces.
Stars sent an emissary to the planet in the form of gold.
She transmogrified into a faerie, so she could mingle.
With the wisdom of a wise woman who gets totally old.
She decided to live her life as herself, remaining single.
But alas, she fell in love with a powerful man.
He was a unicorn tamer and he had a gentle fair heart.
Staying single was not in the stars now for Pan.
Yes, this was her name; her sweet nature was an art.
The man had no idea this darling faerie was in love.
He was nice to everyone, so also to her of course.
She asked for some help from the stars far above.
They told her to have patience with this man, Old Norse.
Old Norse and Pan were well suited and had lots of fun.
They shared meals, had long talks, and had picnics at the park.
Pan invited him to dinner, and he was surprised he was the only one.
He now knew the invite was much more than a lark
When they started getting serious, Pan had to show him her home.
He was surprised when she flew him to a new planet among the stars.
They transported his unicorns, his cat, his dog, and his poem.
He had written one, in honor of Pan, who was now driving space cars.
I care for nothing
Or so you say—
Well, yes, I agree.
But when someday
The fates proclaim
That you are he who
Will bring doom upon
The world all once knew—
When, from your birth
You've always knkwn
That you are destruction,
Well, you simply don't
Bother to care
About anything, really.
Everything, after all,
Seems so small, so silly
Compared to the dusk;
To the apocalypse that will
Descend upon the realms;
To the plagues that will kill
Mortals and Gods both;
To the hell that was swallow,
And the flames that will destroy
The world that all know—
When you are all that,
Well, where would you find joy?
You'll learn not to care,
Because someday — it is my fate to destroy.
Mirror Universe
In the ethereal cosmos of your subconsciousness
Is the mirror universe
Of the symptoms of your stagnate mind
That you thought you left behind
A systematic reality in reverse
Of the astral plane
A seer whispers with suspicious viciousness
As you hold high your spear
In the crimson maw of Fenrir
Ending his eons of definitive reign
(Unfinished)
Alas,
I been told, before me behold the hammer;
That makes and takes the thunder roar;
Lightening blast, I'm alas Norse God THOR;
Once again to be your adversary or friend, or foe;
Take it thou from me...
The Mighty God of thunder
THOR!!!
written by James Edward Lee Sr.
July 1 2017(c)
A Norse Day
Odin, god of battle, always looking for a war
Took his brother Loki off to battle with his son called Thor
The only way to find true peace
Is killing everything you please
His brother Loki liked only fun and pranks
For that he got no thanks
Thor gained fame with thunder hammer in his hand
He was a hero like his dad and loved throughout the land
There were no dragons at that time but never mind
Thor could fly, (according to the scriptures)
But only in the comic strips and fiction
In “real” mythology he used a goat to get around
To slew giants and the bad guys down
The goat or goats would drive across the sky
With thunder driven chariots and Thor inside
Odin threw his son from Asgard to the Earth
If that were not the case. If Thor was not a jerk
We wouldn't have Thors-day or Thursday you might say
The mystery of his mystic hammer power still remains
But we have the 5th. day of the week now named
7/29/14 All Things Norse contest
ALL THINGS NORSE
These are the guys in horn-helmets of course,
And the biggest hammer was always Thor’s.
They traveled each European watercourse
From the mouth to the source,
And their transport was boat - never by horse.
They were preoccupied with trade as a resource
And with local women had lots of intercourse.
Regardless of singularity, marriage or divorce.
Their own huts were simply made from gorse
But they destroyed better villages with no remorse:
They did everything by force.
Their language was often coarse,
Usually yelling themselves hoarse.
But relatively little is known of their discourse
For their code was always morse.
27 July 2014
All Things Norse
The dark and dreary autumn skies
Illuminating moon amplifies
Shadowy figure arises
Through the misty fog belies
Her falcon cloak wears a whirring sound
Absorbed by loves battleground
Affliction blight of Niflheim
Embracing Freya’s willowy frame
This goddess walks through towering wheat, bittersweet
With grandeur attributes, beauty becomes deplete
For about her neck clings Brisingamen of fire
She knows the cost beloved husband was acquired
Odin’s ravens fly above divulge shiny blackened feathers
Hunting her walk upon the hills in steady measure
The moon sends its beams between darkened clouds
Reflecting her ebony ringlet hair abounds
Here in Folkvangr lives the field of host
Battle cries for mountainous ghosts
Hnitborg holds the mead of poetry
In mound of heights lives ancestry
And amber tears fill the alabaster jar
Until they reunite her to Odh
July 24, 2014
Norse things of Scandinavia
offer a perspective, not trivia
of things visible and invisible
which complement each other.
intuition and imagination of things norse
are values of consequence, all endorse
not subjective, are open to interpretation real
visible and invisible seen as a whole, it’s clear.
the invisible sustains the visible of the world
whether good or bad of the senses it twirled
in flesh world the elements merge with divinity
seen with “eye of reverence” sacred is profanity.
prior to today’s world a “Great Abyss” existed
an animating spirit of silence and dark twisted
It was slain by the god brothers Vé, Vili and Odin
who built the visible world from its flesh akin.
“See a world in a grain of sand
And a heaven in a wild flower
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand
And eternity in an hour.” By Blake’s hand.
Form: Rhyme
Date: 10.7.2014
I'm
Heading Norse, by Norse West
I heard those Vikings, really are the best
Everyone has an oar,
and they'll show you what it's for
When they spank me,
I'm sure it'll be in jest
Or with zest !
Now,
I heading, Norse by Norse West
Acting calm, will truly be a test
The fur vests and Fur chaps
And those little horny hats
If you want too, just settle for the rest
Then be my guest
Don't leave your nest
Yes,
I heading, Norse by Norse West
I hope they like the way, that I love to dress
I wear my sealskin awful tight
Which shows my dagger late at night
When the moon is up, and it begins to crest
I'll take no more, don't take no less
The Gods are blessed
I'm still
Heading Norse by Norse West
They say these guys, can really make a mess
To rape and pillage, that's for me
'Cause I'm a Viking wan-a-be
I can't imagine why, they're called a pest
So that's why, I'm changing my address
My case now rest !
By JTCurtis July 2014
The thunder rang out…..
over….
the foothills, forests and fertile fields
like the battle cry of the Valkyrie’s.
Rain
Fell
like the
pounding
hoofs of their of their steeds.
Tree limbs
Lay
torn asunder
by Thor’s lightning,
reaching
longingly for the fabled halls of
Valhalla…………………..
mimicking the brawny arms of the Nordic Hordes.
The only other sound….
on the feral wind
was Loki’s laughter
as the flames rose
from the churches steeple.
Related Poems