The Nine Realms
9 months, 22 poets and writers, 22 Artists, 3 composers, 1 Viking boat: a magical reworking of Norse Mythology for contemporary audiences
Poems and Writing inspired by the Norse realm of Asgard
Featuring:
Greg Mackie, Lenka Monk, Rebecca Audra Smith and Rob De Born
KILLING YMIR
by Greg Mackie
.
Between my head and my heart,
there was a no man’s land
the size of Iceland –
all frost and volcanoes.
Ice, to the north –
cold, clinical,
sceptical and cynical.
Fire, to the south –
a passion burning in my gut;
the inevitable contradiction.
And at the centre of this,
rising like a geyser,
Ymir, the primeval us –
a mystery
to be broken,
into smaller mysteries,
given names
and meanings.
And so I did –
shatter and scatter
his body and blood,
across worlds –
Until there was
no more left
of him,
to remind me,
of my ignorance.
.
.
.
Heimdall’s oath
by Lenka Monk
.
I’ve seen it, heard it all
From Midgard of men to mighty Asgard.
No matter the rise, no matter the fall
The rainbow bridge I guard.
The prophecy once told
In the lieu of eloquence,
Speaks of shadows born in a cold
Doused in frosty decadence.
The twisted knots of fate
In the monster’s breath of ice,
Will untangle at the gate
With last roll of a dice.
I will fight to the end
For my realm and my land,
Our hallowed reign I shall defend
With sword in my hand.
.
.
.
Poem read by Nicky Mortlock on Lenka’s behalf.
.
Frigg Beginnings
by Rebecca Audra Smith
.
We began in war,
splitting apart the giant man,
white and frosty with age.
Frigg like an itch a scratch of mothers lives.
Can’t you see, we said to her,
your daughters need to open the world.
One woman hefted a mallet.
We used his lungs to embryo the earth,
wrapping the atmosphere in a fine pink gauze.
The soft tissue of his brain the ocean bed,
here is where the gracious mammals float,
unwieldy and full of old knowledge,
his hippocampus their swimming ground.
Many things were birthed, first came
The small thoughts, then the larger ones
Till we’d built a city out of our need.
And the men, we got them from the flotsam,
The sea-spray, the wreckage of the ocean floor.
We began in war.
.
.
Eight Legged Stallion
by Rebecca Audra Smith
.
.
.
Two Children
by Robert De Born
.
Odin and God
made saviours,
grave minds
held prophecies:
the rune and the tablet.
Hung from wood,
pierced with spears;
God knew everything.
Odin didn’t.
God’s child arrived immaculate
in the spaces between
Herod’s fingertips.
An angel watching
held him from apocalypse
in dark places,
fragile as plaster of Paris
but Charis colludes where grace is.
God knew everything.
Odin, when he found
his child taken,
salvation pierced with the spear,
sought the holy virgin;
and appeared first
as a soldier,
broad-shouldered
with polished shoes
and medals from neck to navel
and he asked nicely.
Then appeared a bard,
voice gypsum-rich
with melodies winding as the gamut of the amber trade,
fingers flickering on the lyre
like demons’ tongues
and he asked nicely.
Then appeared,
hands full of washrags
and he raped her.
Blood never looked darker
than against those sheets
as white as Baldr’s skin
and seen through the milky mistletoe
transparency of Odin’s cornea.
And then, collapse.
The eyes of wolves have the golden gaze of a God who knows everything.
An eye bright.
An eye dark.
Night and day fog into one.
Nine nights and days fixed to the tree.
I pace by the wall,
take a lung of air,
a lung of smoke
waiting for poetry
to blossom like murder
on my lips.
.
.
You can read the overview of Asgard here
.
Find out more about Greg, Lenka, Rebecca and Rob:
Greg Mackie
https://twitter.com/FrenzyOfFlies
Lenka Monk
Contact ArtiPeeps
Rebecca Audra Smith
https://twitter.com/BeccaAudra
Robert De Born
https://twitter.com/RobertDeBorn
Watch out for more Asgard poetry next week!
As always, thank you for your interest.
.
