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, July 28, 2016


One day
you will be handed

a script
in which you must

find your part.
When you do

take a yellow highlighter out
hold it over the page

like a magic wand
and whenever you see

the moniker in print
illuminate the name.

Mark its every appearance,
emblazon it

with the color of the sun.
This is the way to begin

to own the role,
become the character,

learn the lines,
make them yours,

turn ink
into performance art.

Thursday, July 21, 2016


In this hamster wheel world of ours
you may just have to

play the ghostwriter and
impersonate somebody

that’s not you
to get what you need.

It’s darn near protocol
these days that

the requester write the missive,
and the advocate simply sign it.

What’s so wrong
with that arrangement,

the taking on of

another’s voice
to pen your own testimonial?

In the process you become
the cheerleader and the champion,

the admirer
and the admired.

What a perfect paradox
and marriage that is,

the I and the other
are one,

praise and gratitude
are singularly sourced.

We should all write
letters like this

for ourselves,
so the idea of

and validation

becomes less pedantic
and more prosaic, and is

finally accepted as the vernacular,
the idiom of the day.

Thursday, July 14, 2016

          for Stuart

It may take
going completely bankrupt,
losing your family fortune
trying to make a killing
in the rice trade,
for instance.

It may take this
or something else…
But the day will come
when you have nothing left to lose
and it is then you finally decide
to claim your sovereignty,
to live your life like an emperor,
and with the bravura and bravado
no city slickers dare dispute.

From this vantage point
you will see bridges 
and tunnels under oceans
that no one else can see.
From this regal ground
everything you say
is a declaration, a proclamation, a decree
that is your currency, the legal tender
that pays your way
from one day to the next.

Some may call you mad,
others may immortalize you,
ink you into the annals and pages of time.
No matter.
You are bigger than any slur
or fiction anyone can muster.
You are bigger than life itself.
Because you show us all
that the only Congress worth having
is the counsel with the Self.
And therein lies the true territory
worth prospecting and protecting.
This is the only claim worth keeping.


Thursday, July 7, 2016


At work
Only one person
Has access.
To the place
Very high-
Level data
Can be viewed,
They call it
The God Page.

I believe all
Of us
Have access
To such a page.
But I fancy
That it is
More like an
Invisible abacus,
As broad as the sky,
Where we,
If we care to,
Can record
Our gratitudes.

Have you
A bead
Its bar

Have you
Dared to
Play God
With your