Archive for February, 2015

February 20, 2015

The Nine Realms – Jotunheim: Strength and Might

traditional enemies

.

the land surrounding us
a curved body
bones worn to stone

.

cruel daughters forcing us to find
a cure for magic

.

a cure for life
in my case
for dying

.

every time my skin splits
I think of her
the serpent who reminded me
what pain could be

.

part of me always thought
if I could commit to life or death
I would have one

.

could and would and should
my fury blinds me now
as indifference did then

.

not immune to dying,
just unable to be dead.
impotent in the opposites of being
and the other

.

incapable to live
as in the grip of death, I did

.

.

ArtiPeeps

nine realms8

19 poets, 22 Artists, 3 musicians and a Viking Boat

The Nine Realms

9 months, 19 poets and writers, 22 Artists, 3 composers, 1 Viking boat: a magical reworking of Norse Mythology for contemporary audiences

Poems and Writing inspired by the Norse realm of Jotunheim

Featuring:

Mina Polen, Lydia Allison and Karin Heyer

Frostbitten mind

by Mina Polen 

.

Through darkness
…………..and eternal sunshine

.

darkness and brightness
…………..like never-ending dreams

.

frostbitten mind
awaits in another dream

.

thoughts
………………………repeated

.

the pebble falls inside your mind

.

thoughts
……………………..repeated

.

thoughts
…………. being broken

tongues
………….being broken

.

day and night
the mind is playing tricks

.

the night is long
the day is long

time stopping
the mind is flying in circles

.

.

Read by Nicky Mortlock

.

traditional enemies

by Lydia Allison

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the land surrounding us
a curved body

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February 3, 2015

The Nine Realms – Vanaheim: ‘Magic and Wonder’

Vanaheim: ‘ Magic & Wonder’ 4/4′ The Nine Realms- Poems and Writing.

.

Thrymheim 

In the mornings the rocks glisten

like the sick, the dying

soaked in the night. I rise early

run my hand along the moisture of giant walls –

swelled drops catching yellow light

 .

I raise it to my mouth

taste the nothing taste

pure water

I expect salt,

the minerals of my world

 .

but remind myself

this is not the way things are

here, the hard forms move slowly

over years. Mostly unreachable

almost untouchable.

 .

Noatun

I don’t like the madness,

the movement makes me sick, my sweat,

nothing, salt in the air, my skin stings.

The taste – tears – dries my mouth to sand. He says it becomes me,

this light. I know. I feel it.

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