VOTE! 2013 IMBOLC/LUGHNASADH LONG POEM

[Earthwoman]

Notice: Please use the poll to cast vote(s) for your favorite long poems. You cannot select more than three. ONLY those votes submitted to the poll will be tallied. Votes submitted as posts below will not be counted.

[Sciethe]

The Call


Last dusk my mind went searching
In forests on the hill,
I had to follow, had no choice
No reason and no will.

The snakes of empty deer tracks,
And fresh leaves on my mind,
I ran with wind and madness
My body left behind.

Silver path in silver light,
My walk came quiet and slow.
Aching hard, and listening,
For what I did not know.

A sound from close behind me
That made my fetch stand still,
I never heard such harmony
In speech of spring or hill.

An offering, a promise,
A spirit on the breeze,
Leaves that whispered "come to me,
your lover of the trees".

I saw the face in starlight,
And knew that I was lost.
Some things you just have to do
And never count the cost.


She said

Touch my tree now,
Sleep with me
And let me heal your pain.
You won`t be seen
For seven years,
And seven years again.

[DaRC]

Son of the Nine Waves

Oh! Mighty Heimdall, strong to save,
Whose Mothers are the restless waves,
Please bidd'st the mighty ocean deep
Its own appointed limits keep:
O hear us when we cry to thee
For those in peril on the sea.

Bara's great breast, a big bad girl
as suddenly from sea she hurls
her yells and yelping reknowned,
breaking boats, keeping men un-found.

Oh! Mighty Heimdall....

Blodughadda has a strong grip
blood in her hair, a one way trip
swimmers will not escape her wares.
surfer, under tow, still stares.

Oh! Mighty Heimdall....

Bylgia, the Mist of the Isles,
Big with power, she grinds and piles
she flew the foaming whale-way's girth
and of sandbanks she leaves a dearth.

Oh! Mighty Heimdall....

Duva, the Diva, unlike her twin
Springs from hiding with a grin,
Covers with sand, giver of flotsam,
strewn over land, flinger of jetsam.

Oh! Mighty Heimdall....

Oh Unn, the little pillow one
and then you blow, iron is gone
when you switch your steely strength
as you stretch, woe's to our length.

Oh! Mighty Heimdall....

Hefring's heaving bust a danger
to all who sail and try to cleave her.
On their boats she bites the bow;
then sea-wolf leaps over prow.

Oh! Mighty Heimdall....

Angry-Atla sits on the helm
Fury Kolga swift to overwhelm
blowing with dark furrowed brow.
into the deeps our souls you row.

Oh! Mighty Heimdall....

Angeyja sorrow overwhelmer.
is her name when she pulls lower,
Hronn, the rip-tide, her tag to hide
when sailor sings "With me abide."

Oh! Mighty Heimdall....

Heimdallr's dusky mother
Himinglaeva; known as storm's hope.
When all fails there's none other;
a beam of light to help men cope.

And when at length our course is run,
Our work on sand and surf is done,
For all the souls that on her sailed
Let not one life you see has failed;
Yet hear below our sailor's cry,
And grant eternal life on high!



This is inspired/taken from 2 lists one; of of 9 sisters, Ran's daughters, and one of 9 mothers, for Heimdall the guardian of the Rainbow in the Norse Saga's.

Bara - Big Wave , Gjálp - Yelper/Yelling
Blodughadda - With blood in the hair , Greip -Gripper / Greip - ("Strong Grip")
Bylgia - Big breaking wave , Eistla - Foamer / she who grinds isles
Dufa or Duva - The hiding, Eyrgjafa - Sand-strewer / she who gives sandbanks
Hefring - Heaving , Úlfrún - She-wolf / ?
Himinglaeva - The sky shines through , Imðr - Dusk / ?
Hronn - wave suck, Angeyja - Sorrow-whelmer / she who makes the islands closer
Kolga - Cool , (dark furrow, Kol = Dark, -ga = furrow Atla - Fury / ?
Unn - Billow (young / loved one) , Járnsaxa - Iron-sword / she who crushes iron

Edited - I put up the wrong version also to mention it's a mash up of my poem and a revision of the hymn "Eternal Father, strong to save"

[nia-ceridwyn]

Aurelia’s Letters

A little girl’s spirit haunted the narrow passage
between my bedroom and the one down the hall.
Each night I bolted the door, thinking myself
secure against outsiders.
Yet each night I heard her footsteps.

Once I woke to the sound of something
thrust beneath the door.
I found, by dim moonlight, construction paper
on which designs were scrawled;
terrifying images which I tossed away.

My sleepless nights became chronic; who could rest
with such happenings?
I rose weary from my bed each morning,
a rasp in my lungs betrayed a growing
sickness, a sickness I ignored.

Each night again, in pools of filtered moonlight
abstracted imaged appeared beneath the door.
I tried to rationalize, to lecture myself
on the reality of what these letters from beyond
might really be.

Still they came, these quizzical drawings
fraying my nerves, worsening my sleep-deprived worries
until I collapsed, finding refuge in fever-dreams.
There I again beheld the girl – they called her Mixie -
sitting on a black and silver piano bench.

“Pneumonia.” said the doctor, come to check on me
when I didn’t come to supper. He fed me foul tonic
and put cool cloths on my brow and behind my neck.
I heard the latchstring pull and shuddered,
but it was just the landlady.

I never found those drawings again,
never felt the omniscient presence of the little girl
or received her relentless letters.
Perhaps she’s moved on, or perhaps she found another
feverish soul to torment.

[Crimson Stormfire]

"The Void"

the void below me stands watching.

I stand on the brink of the void,
Watching, listening, feeling,
I stand on the brink of the void,
everything i was behind me,
everything a could be in front of me,
everything i am surrounding me.

I stand at the brink of the void,
The world moves swiftly about me,
like rushing water and fast winds.
A turbulent storm of gales threatens me.
I am lost on the brink of the void.
I am cold, starved and blinded.

I have lost my way and purpose.
I have lost my sight and vision.
I have lost my voice and words.
I have lost my hearing and sound
i have lost myself and my heart
I stand lost on the brink of the void.

I Have become complacent and forgetful
I have become blind and unseeing,
I have become silent and mute
i have become deaf and dumb
i have become a shell and hard
i have created this void below me.

my own precarious precipice
crafted by my own two druids hands,
A prison of the easiest way.
i stand on the brink of the void,
alone with a singular choice to make.
to stand and be easily ignored and to ignore easily,
or to step and take the chances i once did.
rise or fall, succeed or fail, scream the truth or be silent.
my choice to make, my burden to carry,
i stand on the brink of the void
and the void stands ready for me to decide.............



authors note= i have been away far too long, drawn and caught up into a life that is but a shell of the person i was and hope to be again, my muse still lies broken, nursing slowly back to health. i have truly blinded myself and my spirit has been self damaged....and even though this may not be the right forum to place this note i believe it is a start to healing myself and finding the pieces i have hidden from myself. thank you all. also posting this in the normal places for responses

[nia-ceridwyn]

Stones

I am the wild things
I am the wild rumpus
The cacophonous revelry
The danger and the dance
Fear me
Feel me
Hear me
Heal me
You who sit
Safe in your glass castle
You dare to toss pebbles
But it is I who will
Throw stones
I dream
I scream
I feign
I remain
I am the wild things
I -am- the wild rumpus
The fearsome tirade
The terror and the trance
You speak
You reek
You lash
You trash
Don’t imagine
I won’t find you
Stalk you and slay you
There is no wall which
Can protect you now
Fear me
Feel me
Hear me
Heal me
I am the danger and the dance
I am the terror and the trance
I am the fearsome tirade and the cacophonous revelry
I am the wild things, and I am the wild rumpus

[TreyWard]

"Blessing of Brighid"
a poem by Trey Ward

I planted a seed where only I know
I gave it water so that it would grow
Air to breathe and soil to nourish
And all the sunlight it would need to flourish

I had done all I needed without a doubt
So I sat myself down to watch my seed sprout
A day passed, then a week, then a month and a year
And I felt my spine give a shudder of fear

My care was in vain and my efforts inept
And I’ve been a fool for the hope that I’ve kept.
For this dream that I’ve had was all in my head
And the seed that I planted lies in the ground dead.

I lay in dust and despair by my garden of folly
And upon me the earth unleashed a volley
Thorns tore my hands, rain stung my face,
The Sun scorched my skin, the wind howled disgrace.

As I fell onto stone, time seemed to slow,
And my limp, broken body was lost in the snow.
Then my ears caught a sound that broke through my shame.
A voice piercing my heart and calling my name.

Next my eyes saw a vision, as my soul began to sing,
Of the kind and fair woman, Brigid of the Spring!
Her hair red as fire, Her skin white as milk,
Her hands strong as iron, but her touch soft as silk.

“Arise anruth,” she said “And hear my voice.
For the pain you’ve endured was of your own choice.
Your seed would have grown but you just wouldn’t see.
You vainly tried to force it when you should have let it be.
For no one can make time march any faster
And life is a mystery that no one can master.
Don’t live in regret because life is too dear.
You must learn to live with the Wheel of the Year.
To taste the apples of Autumn, to go dancing in Spring
To light the hearth in Winter, to hear the Summer Sun sing.
Be content in every moment and banish your doubt.
Soon you will see that your seed has sprout
And your tree will grow taller than you ever did dream
And drop its hazelnuts into your stream.”

[Earthwoman]

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