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 28, 2018

THE FORCE FIELD

Always on, keeping
threat at bay,
usual suspects
at arms length,
yet never calling
attention to itself.

Like a lie that masks
the truth, a yes
that hides a no,
it is there
out in the open
yet invisible.

A feigned interest
that conceals fear.
An intimacy 
that baits the trap.
A diffidence
that snaps it shut. 
Avoidance that tases
like love.

Thursday, June 21, 2018

FAILURE TO ISTHMUS

The land beneath my feet
has been narrowing
and I did not know it.
But I do now.

The geography I see,
that I thought would meet mine—
a trick of the eye—
does not, cannot.
An ocean is the edge I come to.
Ocean is what’s between.

A bridge…
How do I make one from here
when everything I’d use to do so 
I left behind?

Thursday, June 14, 2018

CO-DEPENDENCY

One day on a narrow switchback
the beast just up and stops
dead in its tracks, stands there
stubborn as a mule.
It ain’t going no further—
not with this lopsided load
or any other for that matter, ever again.
It’s been a pack animal far too long
carrying a weight it has no business carrying,
‘cause the burden on its back
belongs to somebody else.

Thursday, June 7, 2018

CARBON

If only the industrialists
could find it—the ore
within themselves—maybe
they wouldn’t have to kill canaries.
Maybe they wouldn’t be sending
miners into the depths of darkness,
into a place where the air is thick
as coal dust, where song
and a speck of color, feathered
like the sun, can’t possibly survive.

Maybe all they know, the industrialists,
is suffocation. Maybe they have no way
of getting to the diamond inside,
because their carbon keeps it caged.