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, June 23, 2022


There is something 
so calming
about the wind 
through the leaves
of a palm tree

that tells this body:
make your own sigh,
relax and be at peace.

Thursday, June 16, 2022

petals on acid

death to metaphor 
        is like
tie-dye tinted 

            before a time 

in a chemist's lab
           at dusk

Thursday, June 9, 2022


As if the sky.
As if from the sky and looking down
at cities
or water
as water moves through streets and skies.
Or mountains and deserts
of foreign planets.

Moves as a hatchery
spawning interlacing 
necklaces of light.
As honeycombs fractured from glass.
A hive diving into itself 
through mirrors and sand.

As if the sky
were a citadel of seeing
a firmament
under water 
watching the watcher
scatter and refract
in every imaginable

Thursday, June 2, 2022


backlit by the sun
leaf         electric

a body 

a breathing
                like a lung 

open hand 

           to               ambiguity
in the 

made green

Thursday, May 26, 2022


What if the you you call “you”
is more like the invention 

of the barcode 
that first appeared

on a pack of Wrigley’s 
Juicy Fruit Gum 

on June 26, 1974
and later became 

ubiquitous the world over 
as the premiere way 

of conveniently carrying 
basic product data? –

but that in no way held 
or conveyed 

what the gum chewing 
experience would be: 

joyous and free
at the child-like discovery

that bubbles as large 
and larger than 

the human head
could be blown 

just by intently 
breathing into

the space within.
No, this information

is nowhere encrypted 
in the inky black lines

of that little identifier
that is scanned 

in the check-out line
at the time of purchase.

What, do you think, we are 
trying to “purchase” 

with the barcodes 
we call our identities?

Before you answer, 
take a moment to scan

your own consciousness 
to see if it is actually 

bigger than you think it is.
Does this question leave you

with an expanded sense of self 
loftier than any thinking 

the head-mind can hold
or existentially befuddled 

with a face vaguely pink and sticky 
and somewhat sugarcoated?

Thursday, May 19, 2022


We come into this world already 
having forgotten who we really are

and where and what we come from.
We arrive as amnesiacs 

who maintain our stuporred state 
by attaching ourselves to something called

Identity, that only deepens the depth 
of our forgetting.

The only way back to the oneness we came from 
is by forgetting again: 

by forgetting the self we’ve become, 
through all our thinking, 

by letting go of knowing anything,
and by turning ourselves over 

to an emptiness
that is everything.

Thursday, May 12, 2022


I couldn't’ see them
drawing their dark circles 

over my house.
But I could hear them.

They were going at it today
squawking up a storm.

Not seeing them
sharpening their knives

with all their cawing
made my imagination 

turn them into 
two people 

that only knew
how to shame and blame.

Two people 
who couldn’t find

their way to kindness 
through the scattered shrapnel 

from their broken hearts.
The commotion

was so loud,
like blade
rusted blade,

I filled me up with
a sadness so heavy

 I felt like 
a barren tree
spontaneously spawning 
leaden leaves

as black 
as crows.