Muninn's Laughter

This blog is a place for me to share my spiritual, religious, esoteric, and exoteric poetry.

[muninnslaughter]

Guardians of Worlds

Four guardians sit at the gates of worlds, Who know far more than they know, Some sit, some stand, some rest beneath, Their past are lost in the mist.

There is one who rests in the cold north wind, Who was once a giantess of renown, No name we know or when she was born, But she was ancient ere man was born.

There is one who stands in the wind of the east, Where the rainbow bridge does rest, A horn to blow, a sword to swing, And his parents do no one know.

There is one who stands in the hot south wind, On the edge of the fiery plains, Wait he does for the end of time, When he'll march with a fire storm.

There is one who sits by a well, in the western wind, Three daughters he had, three wells once known, Nine mothers are known but a father has none, And his sons shall be well known.

Down the Helway some will come, To call of the cold north wind, To rise from the grave and tell the old tell, Of what will someday come.

The shining one at the rainbow bright, The east wind does stand guard, Before the bright city a city or brass, Where they drink and laugh and flirt.

On the southern plains where fire rages, And all the plains are ablaze, the hot south with with a sword in hand, Waits for the sun to set.

Heads will roll and then speak again, With the voice of the wise west wind, A sip from the well that will cost you an eye, On the edge of the cold ice plain.

Four winds are blowing and will come again, For compass will ever turn, Their pasts are obscure and their futures ignored, And few are there left you see.

Four guardians sit at the gates of worlds, Who know far more than they know, Some sit, some stand, some rest beneath, Their past are lost in the mist.

~Muninn's Kiss, February 21, 2014

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Watching the Sunrise Fade

I sit here, watching the sunrise fade to night, Remembering, forgetting, remembering, Remembering my childhood in the twilight of the gods, The Destroyer raging across the land, Remembering my teenage years in afternoon of the world, As the glory of man faded, threatening to go out, Remembering my early adult years in at high noon, When man's empires spanned the world, Rising and falling and rising again, I remember by middle years in the morning of the world, As man learned to walk, to run, to farm, And here I sit an old man, as the sunrise fades to night, Remembering, forgetting, remembering, The evening darkness lit as the sun sank and dusk came, Brighter and hotter it got, as high noon approached, And colder again as the sun rose from dawn, Bringing me back here, to the first light, fading to night, The cold winter warming as leaves rose to the trees, Then turned from brown to yellow to green, The crops fading from golden to bright green, As they grew downward back toward the ground, And the summer heat fading into spring, The plants shrinking to buds, then sprouts, then barren ground, As spring fades now back into winter, As I sit, watching the sunrise fade to night, Remembering, forgetting, remembering. ~Muninn's Kiss, January 21, 2014, with a nod to T.H. White and Luke Bryan

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I Was Crom Dubh Once

I was Crom Dubh once,  Buried in the mound,  I was the Dagda once,  My club across the land,  I was Bran the Blessed once,  My head beneath the hill,  I was Kronos once,  My stone sickle in the sky,  I was Osiris once,  My body across the land,  I was Odin once,  Ygg was I once,  Ere that I was Thund,  Who am I?  ~Muninn's Kiss, January, 4, 2014

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The Crossroads of Life and Death

I hap'ed to meet Death once, Along the Shining road, I was going up it, And he back down again, Top o' the mornin' to ya, I cheerfully put forth, And the rest of the day to thee, Came his grim reply, I asked him how his business went, If it was going well, He answered it was booming, Almost too much for him to do, He asked me about the gleaming courts, And if life there was good, And answered as good as ever, Though few notice none, We chatted a bit and gossiped, Shared a drink of whiskey strong, Then both went on upon our ways, Him down and me on up. ~Muninn's Kiss, January 2, 2014

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Krampus

In the darkness, something moves, A thing of horns and teeth, Our dreams, our fears, the things we know, But try hard to forget, It stalks the night in Winter's chill, It goes from house to house, It knows the secret fears and dreams, It knows what we try to hide, It knows when we are sleeping, It knows when we're awake, It knows knows if we've been good or bad, And feeds our secret fears, Black hooves in snow it treads upon, Black wool of grease and oil, Horns stand out like a wicked crown, And teeth a wicked grin, In the darkness, something moves, A thing of horns and teeth, Our dreams, our fears, the things we know, But try hard to forget. ~Muninn's Kiss, December 29, 2013

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Red Cock and Bloody Hound

A red cock crows, A bloody hound howls, Their mistress awakes at dawn, Comely is she, A gorgeous bride, When viewed from one side, But turning around, A hideous face, Like a corpse that has rotted through, Up she rises, From the bed, That is called by the name of Disease, Through the Gleaming Bale, She rises and stretches, And dresses to meet the throng, On her hip she straps, Great Famine her knife, And through the halls of Sleet-Cold she walks, The people they rise, And the gods there asleep, And each takes up a great sword, The the threshold they go, The Pit of Stumbling, And follow their mistress's call. The time has come, The dead arise, And march along the Hel-Way. ~Muninn's Kiss, December 7, 2013

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Hail, Regent of the North

Hail, Regent of the North By Muninn's Kiss

Hail, Regent of the North Winter Queen, Samhain Queen Ice Serpent, Storm Dragon Keeper of the Lost Builder of Storms Bringer of Tears Hail! Now you stand Now you sit

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Across the hills, The Serpent's tongue, The echo of the deep, Like thunder shaking, And lightning striking, The power of the storm, Her voice it calls, Across the hills, Answering my call, A voice to fear, Sheer power's voice, All across the hills.

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Seven Stones By Muninn's Kiss 2013-04-12 I know of seven stones, Seven altars from long ago, That stand forevermore, A barren stone upon a hill, An altar that's lichen grown, An icy stone in a valley fair, An altar that's deathly cold, A flat worn stone where two roads cross, A wind swept altar stone, A granite stone that's oak leaf strewn, An altar covered in leaves, A stone that's deep beneath the ground, An altar of iron strength, A stone that's high as the very stars, An altar that's burning bright, And a stone that stands at the world's own centre, An altar made of dust. I know of seven fires, Seven flames so bright, And burn upon the stones, A green, green flame upon a hill, That burns in a secret place, A blue, blue flame in a valley fair, The time of it's lighting lost, A white, white flame where two roads cross, A flame to light the way, A red, red flame among oak leaves, A flame that's passion's own, A deep, deep flame that glows like coals, A flame that heats the world, A pale, pale flame that's high above, In a black well cold as space, A live, live flame that glows within, A heart within the dust. I know of seven breaths, Seven winds so strong, That blow to fan the flames, A howling wind across a hill, A lonely, howling wind, A storming wind in a valley fair, A roaring, storming wind, A raging wind where two roads cross, A raging, endless wind, A rolling wind rustling oak leaves, A rolling, rambling wind, A solid wind beneath the ground, A solid, steady wind, A stellar wind in the very stars, A stellar, solar wind, A living wind that was breathed in, An offering in the dust. I know of seven wells, Seven fountains the flow, That wash the altars clean, A mountain spring and a mountain stream, That carves a path below, A valley spring and a valley stream, Where grazing herds do drink, A river slow and a canal bold, That waters fields and crops, A passionate spring and a treasured stream, Among the hills of oak, A well so deep and a stream so dark, That flows beneath the ground, A glistening stream and a river white, High above all else, A spring so warm and a stream of blood, Wetting the altar or dust.

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Round and Round the Ash Tree By Muninn's Kiss 2013-01-05 Round and round the ash tree we go, Have you ever seen such a sight? The old gods laugh and the new ones delight, At long blind dance of man. This becomes that and that becomes this, But what was it all before? What once was old for now is new, But what was new now is old. Two brothers they fought and soon lost the fight, Or did it say that they won? Three wisemen came dress all as kings, Or was it three women in rags? Seven lords ruled in old Sumer, But nine they were in the North. Twelve gods sat in the halls of Olympus, But who was the Thirteenth they called? An old man sits up on a throne and cries, There's nothing new under the sun. The youth just laughs and thinks it's a joke, For he knows all things are new. But round and round the ash tree we dance, Have you ever seen such a sight? The old gods laugh and the new delight, As the telephone rings again.

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Lady of the Lake By Muninn's Kiss There are few places, Sweet Sumner Maiden, Where I Feel you half as much. Soft light of fading dusk, Reflecting off gentle waves, Of the deep dark well of the lake. I call to you, Sweet Nimue, The gentle waves rippling, Like your hair in a gentle breeze. I call to you, Sweet Maiden, The fiery sunset blazing, Like the gold and fire of your hair. I call to you, Sweet Nimue, The deep water, black and quiet, Like the dark depths of your secrets. I call to you, Sweet Maiden, The gentle breeze across water, Your soft breath on my skin. I call to you, Sweet Nimue, The waters so gentle I see a sword, Raised up by your hand, O Lady of the Lake. I call to you, Sweet Maiden, Send your wind, Rising across the water, A soft breeze, A mighty gale, Raise the wind, My sweet Nimue, Lady of the Lake, Corn Maiden, Bringer of Wind, Consuming fire, The wind across your lake, The power of your joy, The power of your anger. I call to you, Sweet Nimue, Sweet Maiden, My Lady of the Lake.

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If I Were to Die in Battle By Munin's Kiss If I were to die in battle, Who would invite me home? Would it be Odin or would it be Freyja, Whose hall I'd be taken to? Would Odin want me, Would I make the cut? Am I the type he'd want, To be fighting by his side? Would Freyja have me, Would I feast in her halls? Would she find me worthy, To lend her my sword? The two they stand together, Ready to make the choice, Him with his initiator, Her initiator with her. As the Valkyries fly me closer, I can't help but think, Is it them that make the decision, Or was it always my choice.

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From Blessed Womb and Serpent's Seed A Summer Solstice Poem By Muninn's Kiss Summer's heat has come again, And with it a growing womb. The union formed of May's young flowers, Begins to start to show. The risen lord's seed runs strong, The laughing queen was ripe. In summer's heat, her sweat is sweat, The warmth that forms within. She smiles sweetly in Solstice sun, Spring's rain fades away. The white veil gone, her golden hair, Darkens to chestnut brown. New moon's time, a darkened moon, A bonfire burning high. The dancers dance, round and round, A fever burning high. The Horned King sits close by her side, His smile as big as hers. The summer sun it rises bright, Round like her growing womb. The moon moves on and starts to grow, Just like her unborn Child. Summer's heat has come again, And with it a growing womb. The womb will grow to harvest time, The Child that will be born. From blessed womb and serpent's seed, The Mother of all life.

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Sub Rosa By Muninn's Kiss Around the Altar, the roses lay, Blood red pedals and black of night, A black stone Altar, absorbing light, Dark stone tower, a hollow cave, Upon the Altar, they laid me down, In black, black robes my hands are tied, Head laid back, stretched out flat, Two coins are placed upon my eyes, Beneath the gold, in shadows black, The Twins they dance and in my laugh, She stands above me, her robes jet black, Her veil of red so loosely hangs, A dagger black she raises high, Blackthorn rod it passes forth, Down and down comes the blade, My life it passed but was long long gone, Upon the Altar where they had me lie, Among the roses both black and red.

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Howling Gale By Muninn's Kiss A forked tongue is in the East, She sings to my in the early Dawn, Of the Sun's how Fire and the morning Dew, Of red, red Rock and a howling Gale. Her Mountains rounded, the sweetest Breasts, Her water hidden down in the Cress, Her light is blinding, the morning Sun, Her hair is tossed in a howling Gale. In the West a straight tongue sleeps, He rises late and strongly grows, His Mountains sharp of granite strong, His voice a roaring, howling Gale. His hair is Lodgepole, growing strong, His shoulders sharp and granite strong, From among him strong rivers flow, And from his mouth, a howling Gale. For Power flows from West to East, A howling Gale that never stops, Over Mountains and across prairie wide, And back to Mountains, his morning Bride. There is a union, where West meets East, A copulation, a uniting Power, In the valley, the very core, Where Power blossoms forevermore. And there is sits, the seat of Power, Where West meets East down in the bower, Where Northern Cold and Southern Heat, Come together in the howling Gale.

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The Aspen Moon By Muninn's Kiss The barron earth seems barron still, The snow is gone but green lost still, But on the Aspens, the catkins grow, The male, the female, each in the wind, The grow and grow and ask to be seen, A sign of life in a barron land, The males they dangle, the females erect, A source of life, before the leaves, Winter's gone and Spring has rose, The Aspen Moon approaches full, A few small leaves upon the ground, A strawberry, a flower, some blades of grass, As the Apsen Moon begins to wain, Fast rushes Springtime just like the Bull, The catkins promise, the leaves fulfill, New life, new living, the Aspen Moon.

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The Flower Moon By Muninn's Kiss Each bud opens to meet the sun, An ancient dance renewed again, Under Flower's Moon and Dancing Twins, Each flower opens, bright and full, Yellows, whites, purples, blues, Each standing out, each calling forth. The fields of green, the brilliant leaves, The water clear, the building clouds, All has risen, all has rose, All is growing, none still waits, The world is full, the May Queen wed, The Flower Moon wanes from full.