Thor, the Norse God of Thunder, had a hammer named Mjölnir. Mjölnir was considered a fierce weapon that could level mountains and summon lightning with every blow. In this poetry blog, every Thursday, (Thor’s Day), Mjölnir will forge only song - sing of the mysteries and beauties of the world.

Thursday, December 12, 2019


If we don’t see
the idea of SKY

in the open sore
and suffering

within a wound
we can’t soar.

If we only
pine and whine

about the depth
and darkness

of the hole
we’re standing in

and forget
we’re actually in

a WELL, well then 
there’s no way we will

feel whole and at one
with ourselves.

We must be with
where we are, always—

listening for the here,
in what we hear,

the experience,
strength and hope

that’s at the core of
who we are. In other words:

we need to look
for the living

homonym hidden
inside our humanity.

The name 
in anonymous.

Thursday, December 5, 2019


I hang dormant 
in the cave of your closet.

I am a beast
waiting for the season

to wake me.
For you to

finally have
a need for me,

my girth and length.
Climb into me 

like a lover. Let me
surround you,

the whole of you,
like a lover,

so you become the man
you are meant to be.

Wear me like a king’s cloak.
Winter is coming.

Together we will
stand fortified

against the besieging storms.
Claim your kingdom

and the gold inside
one jeweled button at a time. 

Thursday, November 28, 2019


What if you were so moved
by the movie you just saw
that you channeled Terry Gross
as you left the theater
and asked the stranger next to you:

Why did you choose to see 
this film and not another today?

Did it make you remember your life
and how you’ve been broken
and how you came to be healed again?

Whatever provoked you to wear
rainbow-colored spandex in public?

Does the name of your dog sweeten your day?
Was your son promoted this week and were you proud?
What makes a crime a crime?

Where are you headed now?
 for a drink, across a bridge, into a fog,
or to an orphanage in your mind?

Do you know where you’re going?
Are you a tourist or a traveler?

The film made you curious,
made you want to interview
each and every by-stander
about their deepest desire,
so strangers became less strange
and humanity became more human.

You want your questions to take you,
without censorship or any hesitation,
into the magic,
into the mystery,
into the grand tour of life.

You want to know your brothers
and sisters of the world
in all their colors and complexity.
You want to peel back the layers
of the living and see there is
a beating heart inside.

You want to believe that trust
is not a nonsense song
with lyrics like Semolina pilchard
but is full of hidden anthems
and the trill of a high-pitched horn
and a singing satellite.

If you actually had these conversations
with strangers in public places
then maybe you could leave
whatever movie you were just in,
step into a November night,
and really breath the outside air, 
the fresh air, like a gratitude 
that fills the lungs and life
with all that’s needed: love.

Thursday, November 21, 2019


Source after source,
layer upon layer,
are woven into one track.
We call this density music.

Sometimes, well-intentioned engineers
lost in the act of bringing
so many disparate elements
together in one place
mistake distortion for harmonics,
merger for marriage.

There is no fixing a mix like this
when every sound
is wedded to every other sound
and is overwrought
and can’t be uncoupled.

The only thing to do is to start over,
to scrub the tracks clean
and return to the source material,
to the native sounds
before they were married,
before their essence
got lost in the mix.

Thursday, November 14, 2019


Build them 

and with 
anything you can.

With nursing bras,
life vests,

even lighthouses.
From conversations

had from middle seats,
from fugitive oceans,

or for the sake
of the sudden arrival

of a hospice bed.
Make them from

the playa of life
to remember

what’s been lost
and the journeys 

dutifully taken.
Your green fuse

will blossom 
and make room

for more life 
when you do.

Be like the Asian moth
that causes the elephant

to cry and then feasts
upon its faithful tears,

like a babe
at its mother's breast.

Thursday, November 7, 2019


A terrarium
called Life

overrun with

This is what we see
when we put

paralysis between
us and the glass room.

Why not
chunk fear down

into nibby bits
we manage

a piece at a time.
The distance between

us and our phobias
disappears if we do,

along with our 
fear of fear.

When it does
maybe then we’ll venture

behind the glass,
march into the room,

and let the little beasties
cover us

from head to toe
and not care.

Thursday, October 31, 2019


Everything seems
so precarious
these days

with so much wind,
fire and smoke,
and rolling blackouts

in the mix. This
morning, in one room
then another,

quite suddenly
and by accident,
sugar plum

tomatoes and
push pins fell
from their counter-

tops to the floor
to make a carpet
I dared not walk on.