ehæl cyning læteþ burg scríðan,
Wyrd oft nereð unfægne eorl
Scúrheard scearp, sceadu scínende.
Gástlíc græg góma, gealgtreow blíðe
Wælstowe weard, wulf on heolstre.
Dagas sind gewitene, dreór on wícum,
Ælla tó sliðre, eald enta geweorc.
Hlæw under hrusan, húðe hræmig,
Wynnum gewát, wæter on mere.
Stánceofan stede, storm on færelde,
Isceald and unrót, æfre gemunde.
Old English
I can do my rune rede uncorrupted.
The Ward nurses word can not be trusted.,
Nurse allows me to eat at the cafe,
I will be pissed off ,trusting them, led astray .
Will go outside on the stoep ;be alone.
Go on a strike, license lost, not in the zone,
I write some poetry, I feel genuine ,
Refuse my requests I take no medicine..
I feel relieved my mood is feels so high.
Reduce my food intake; you ready to die ?
I am covid free as far as I see ,
Send out the death note on the Net , I decree.
See my cousin tomorrow if things go well.
Send my death note out to my kin -a hard sell,
Write poems about nature in near future,
I might. be paranoid have a sense of humour..
Do my exercises brings no sorrow.
Sad if I am not seeing blood tomorrow,
Trying to keep a rigid upper lip ,
My ward is a locked door ;a hellish trip.. guy
Sometimes
I think
they talk to themselves
through us
not exactly word-for-word
though the sense of it
then I (re)member
they are we, or was, us, at sometime
then we remember again
they don't make plain sense
playing wyrd-for-wyrd in-stead
sew halves, two find
grain-by-grain
frisson of recognition
in (an)other
Sometimes
West Texas Wildflowers
Waving in the wind
Weather-worn whispering
Whirling warnings to my window
As I water my wallflower
The weeds won’t stop growing
So I whistle the wisdom
I once welcomed
As I wish it away
Watch me wane
As it wastes me away
I’m wilting
With the willows
Weeping
Weakening in this web
woven around me
I’ve quit wondering
What a wasted world
I’m surrounded by
Windows but the walls are all warping
Who waged this war not worth winning?
Will all you want
But wait as you will if you are not working
No time for wandering
I work because I’m weltering
But I’ll always grow weary of the wyrd
The west Texas wildflowers warned me
Follow the path
in the dark of night
past the Well of Wyrd
In the forest deep
the Witch Trees keep
names in a book of blood
Eldritch is plucking something
strange he doesn't want you to see
he found it under a tree
Down the path dark
is a glimmering Eye
where spirits meet
Of all living things
in wisdom and death
it questions the young
Hatchlings who say
they know the way
but the Eye says no
Odin's lost Eye
sees glowing red runes in
the magic of gods in the night
Spells like tangled wires
in the dead branches of Witch
Trees scratching and hunting
For the Eye of Dark
is dreams half seen
by twisting primeval souls.
All the world was covered in a white frosting, shining under a slice of the moon.
Like a pale rising star on this Mother Night, shines upon the moor a bright noon.
We huddled as feeble field mice in the frigid fright and dare the disir for a boon.
Humble boasting and well wishing, to the Norns the crowd will croon
You weave the wyrd, from babies to old crones we grow too soon.
--------------
mother night- christmas eve, disir - ancestral spirits [female], norns-weavers of
wyrd/fate
Wisdom wild wavering wyrd, wonder of winsome ways
Ostentatiously opportunistic, Orpheus oneiric orchid,
Marvelously mystical mirth maker making man amaze
Ardently argumentative, and artistic accenter; avid
Nymph. Naturally nurturing nostalgic nidulation days
How do I praise the sweet excess in you, the grace
Oozing milk of kindness, compassion that bore me
Obdurate beauty more profound than the pretty face?
Dance dear dreamer devoid of drums drizzled memory.
on
wenesdays
in
wakerlife
the
wallydrags
wading
in
waterish
wanton
water
with
websters
&
waitress
off
work
when
weaned
in
ways
that
weirdward
women
will
wheeple
they
wabble
towards
wagons
waiting
on
waist
anchors
which
would
allow
wandering
whereon
white
withering
wild
whippoorwills
will
williwaw
when
worried
about
winglets
wirbling
whislt
wiseacres
watch
them
wanting
only
woodshedding
&
not
wailing
whining
witches
or
womanthropes
who
wallow
in
wrackful
wyrd.
A bacchanal cachexic by right
Gnathonic felicificative zoetic
Juxtaposition to inculpate yaff
Hysteresis ellipsis languescent.
Wyrd querimonious tenebrose
To rusticate palladian malison?
Dealbation kleptomania usitative
Sanguineous abattoir in nihilism.
Obsecrate vesuciate xerophytic
So that existence may evolve!
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