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, March 31, 2016


One day all the stray
and unspoken musings
will come into fine focus
like the light of the sun on a dry leaf.
They will ink themselves across a page
left to right, left to right
with a grammar, a syntax
and a rhetoric that moves like
the hooves and nostrils of a stampede.
This is a sentence you will write.
How much longer
can you put off writing it?
How much longer
can you keep us from reading it?
Make today be the day
the censors are silenced,
the day you dispatch yourself
as the emissary of a statement
only you can make, a mission
only you can commission.

Thursday, March 24, 2016


Encapsulate it
any way you can.

Call it what you like.
The casing doesn’t matter.

If it enlightens and enlivens,
ignites a fire inside,

and connects you
to something greater,

and mixes well
with your own chemistry,

then take it.
Pen your own

as often as possible.

Become your own

your own
goddamn dispensary!

Be the patient and
practitioner at once.

Thursday, March 17, 2016


Whenever faith
is torn from your hands
and your mind
becomes the monster,
go out into the night.
Let the hillside cradle you.
Let the blossoms and the stars
surround you with their safety.
Let the night be the pages,
the affirmations,
the Daily Word you seek,
that no one, no one
can ever take from you.
Not ever again!

Thursday, March 10, 2016


the silver
in me
is the silver
in you

let’s get out
of the way
and let light
do its thing:
it can draw

Thursday, March 3, 2016


Put all that eludes you
in a shadow box.

Arrange the accumulated enigma
into an assemblage,

like the ephemera
of memory,

like cuttings,
deadwood and thorn.

Fix it within
the case. Hang it

in a gallery
for all your acquaintances

to see. It will be though
the conversation piece

no one talks about.
The auctioneer

can’t auction off

so how can your guests speak
to what's not theirs to know:

the secret desires
and strange curiosities

nervously collected by another
once upon a time.