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Posts Tagged ‘Pagan Blog Project’

Hail to Heimdallr!

Hero of the ancestors,

Helmed guardian of the realms,

Halting any who dare to threaten Bifrost’s noble span!

Horsed is he on mighty Gulltoppr;

Horn at the ready to sound the call!

Hand resting upon his side-sheathed sword, he is

Harbinger of things to come and

Hearer of all that moves in earth or heaven!

Holy child of the Nine Mothers,

Herald sired by the All-Father!

Heaven-strider and light-bringer!

He who shall defeat the trickster at the end of days!

Hastener of the end.

Hail!

Hail!

Hail!

 

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Grove

Ga’en to the garden love

ga’en t’ the shady grove

ain there shalt thou be

thrice ringed w’ flowers o’er.

Tae dance the circled stone w’in

an’ the ancient tongue a-sing

an’ raise our mouths ain hands

t’ all th’ pleasures a hea’en.

Take my hand an’ come w’ me

ga’en down tae the garden green

ain we shall sport and play

from dawn until the e’en.

Author’s note:

1) this is not meant to be any particular dialect, it’s just sound play. 

2) this another one of those I really don’t like, but I’m trying not to hyper analyze, but instead just release things into the wild. 

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Freya

Author’s note- I don’t really like this one. I’ve decided to post it anyway, as half the point of this year of hymnic/poetic blogging is to force me out of my comfort zone and into putting things up whether I’m happy with them or not. So, here it is. 

 

Freya the bold stands on a hill at dawn

wind blowing the ends of her skirts at the edge of the world

booted feet treading the darkened line

at the tip of Yggdrasil’s shadow.

 

Freya the beautiful lays in wait

to claim that which is rightfully hers;

love, and pleasure, and riches, and joy

wealth brought forth from the earth to her hands

to adorn her lovely neck.

 

Freya the seeress blinks her eyes

and foretells your doom-

at point of spear, or crack of wheel

her runes fall true, and do not lie

nor do the visions that play across her eyes.

 

Freya the Warrior leads the gathering horde

of women and crows and clouds of death

she marks you with blood and bone

claims your breath in a rush of wings

and ascends to the higher realms

as you gasp your last…

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(meant to be chanted in a pattern with 1 measure of 6/8 followed by two measures of 2/8. ONE two three FOUR five six ONE two ONE two, repeat. The last word in a phrase gets a breath after it, or held. “BREAD of my MOUTH (breath) MOTHer MOTHer”)

Bread of my mouth

mother, mother.

Dust of my bones

mother, mother.

Blood of my thighs

mother, mother.

Salt of the earth,

mother, mother.

 

Wrap me in arms

mother, mother.

Feast on my heart

mother, mother.

Devour me whole

mother, mother.

Build me anew

mother, mother.

 

Spin me in silks

mother, mother.

Drape me in rags

mother, mother.

Warm me in life

mother, mother.

Cradle my death

mother, mother.

 

Gave to me birth

mother, mother.

Created my flesh

mother, mother.

Under my feet

mother, mother.

You are my world

mother, mother.

 

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Face of stone and pillared tall

still with a solemnity summoned from the earth

sandstone and granite, marble and wood

every surface within you

blessed.

You hold within you every hope and dream and fear and plea

co-mingled in the offering basins with

blood and oil and water

your smoke carries aloft the reverent prayers

of countless devotees.

Liquid runs down your steps

pooling darkly where we must lift our robes to ascend,

starlit heavens spinning circular

around the pinnacle of your spire.

In you, the holy of holies

rests, and is

awake.

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Deep in the darkness, I hear you, Domnu

Darkness is pulling me deeper, Domnu

Dark in the deep, you wait for me, Domnu

Darkening, deepening, calling my name.

 

Rough on the waves, I can feel you, Domnu

Waving through roughed foam and surf, Domnu

Rough on my wavering skin, Domnu

Waves in the roughening crash of the tide.

 

Heat in the cavernous space, Domnu

Cave of the heated thick breath, Domnu

Heat of your touch from the cavern, Domnu

Cavernous heat to swallow me whole.

 

Stars in the blood-blackened sky, Domnu

Bleeding in starlight I know you, Domnu

Starred oceans of iron are singing, Domnu

Bloodied beneath the stars’ light, you are.

 

 

 

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Crow-brother

feather-panted buffoon

black winged dirty bird

soot covered and clever-brained

finder of trinkets, sparkles, mice

treasures, garbage, food, carrion

and luck

eye-balling me from the roof of my cinder-block cage

Come and play! Come and play!

 

(loosely inspired by @streetcrow)

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