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, January 28, 2016


River, boat, oar.
Fox, rabbit, cabbage.

These are the things
you'll think you’ll need

to authenticate, decorate
your dilemma.

Whether you are
a farmer

or a merchant
will not matter.

What matters
is what you carry

in your heart.
The arrival

is inconsequential.
The crossing

is everything—and how
you carry it.

Thursday, January 21, 2016


It is there
In the darkness
Like terror
Like Time
Like fire
Waiting for you
To touch it, hold it
The mirror is

Take it
See if you can
See yourself
In the circle
Of wood
In the round glass
See if you can locate
The messenger, the Self
Beyond the mask, the mirage
The metaphor
That is the memory
Of the message
The face of truth
The eyes within the eyes

Thursday, January 14, 2016


It comes with the territory–
with the choice of

cold-rolled steel,
being corset-bound,

harnessed and hammered 
into place.

There is a heft
 in every plate,

in every lamination,
from comb to saboton.

Every movement
is a rasp, a groan

of metal
against metal.

You look and walk
like an alien.

This is what it means
to be defended, guarded.

In other words: a prisoner
safe behind bars.

Thursday, January 7, 2016


Glass is 
your medium.

Find the biggest piece
you can.

Cut it.
Install it.

the pane.

Give it a squeaky,
streak-free shine.

Then watch how
the window disappears

and all that’s left to see
is what there is to see.