Tag Archives: Realm of Fire

Muspelheim: Sparks and Flames 3/4 The Nine Realms- Poems and Writing

27 May

nine realms8

The Nine Realms

9 months, 19 poets and writers, 22 Artists, 3 composers, 1 Viking boat: a magical reworking of Norse Mythology for contemporary audiences

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 Muspelheim

(the realm of fire)

Featuring:

Shirley Golden, Ross Beattie

and Karin Heyer

 

 Battling Infernos

by Shirley Golden

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All summer the fires seethe out of control. Lauren’s been reading the books her father loved as a teen. She’s at an age when Judgement Day can seem poetic.

Danny hastened to the call out first thing; he’s in the thick of it with his unit, fighting the inferno. Before he left, he told us, sit tight. It’d never spread this far. Pollution sweeps in wave upon wave of heat, more intense each summer. No more factor fifty. Cover up, is the current advice. Air conditioning pumps into house after house.

I aim the remote at the TV as Lauren bursts in.

“Leave the news on. It’s coming this way, isn’t it?” She sits beside me. “Has Dad called?”

I shake my head. “If something had happened, we’d have heard,” I say. I hope. I stare at the screen. The blaze consumes the pine forest, eating its way through the landscape, leaving a stream of dense, dark smoke, and ash where once wildlife and a scattering of houses nestled. Ranks of dotted fire-fighters are speckled ants across the ground.

“Ragnorok,” Lauren breathes. “The giants in Norse mythology called fire, ‘Hungry Biter’. Did you know that?”

“It’s not the end of the world, love,” I say and attempt a smile. For some it will be.

“S0 why does it feel like it?” she says, not taking her eyes from the screen.

“Your father should never have given you those books, with those stories.”

Lauren didn’t have Danny’s practical nature that kept him from stressing about each fresh blaze. She took after my mother: artistic, complex, prone to worry.

“They don’t frighten me,” she says.

But they do me. I shrug. “It’s just stories, Lauren,” I say.

“Myths,” she says. “The realm of fire where Surt stands guard with his sword that shines brighter than the sun, a place where only those born to it can pass.”

I didn’t want to think about it. “We should pack some things,” I say. “Just in case.”

“I’ll get the carrier and food for Rusty.” She stands up.

Rusty is her orange and white Netherland Dwarf.

“Yes,” I say and I have to stop myself from telling her to hurry.

She lingers at the door. “The realm of fire,” she breathes. “Dad says it’s a part of nature. Without it, no sun, no stars.”

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Through Words

by Ross Beattie

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This land of fire holds the secrets I long to know.
To watch the wolf rip the life from my throat, to see this perfect end.
To be touched by the flames as I become what waits beyond the line of belief. 
So tired of the place where the fire meets the ice.
Looking into the coming moments and waiting only for freedom.
The last way out of this. 
Through words into tomorrow. 

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MP3 to come

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Blood-Snake

by Karin Heyer

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To begin with there was fire and ice
and there was a universe,
in this universe there was a realm
and in this realm
there was the land of fire,
where Surt,
the fire god stood guard
at its very gates,
beheld a shining sword
that gathered sparks across
the moon’s hall
that became stars
and shone over pending,
desolate destruction.

He set one foot,
one foot only,
onto the rainbow bridge,
his bold flaming blood-snake
held up high,
defending the powers
of volcanic, furious fires.
Ready for the fight,
the cruel blood-snake was dancing,
inflicted hurt to many a man,
holding tight to its punishing power.
Raging Ragnarök ,
cold killing,
might meeting might,
clashing blade on blade.
After this endgame,
amazing Yggdrasil still stands,
man and woman did remain,
the waters of hope are flowing,
and after that
each man told this tale to the other.

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Translation of the Kennings: moon’s hall = sky
blood-snake = sword

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Find out more about Shirley, Ross and Karin here:

Shirley Golden

shirleygolden.net

twitter.com/shirl1001

Ross Beattie

https://twitter.com/blackpoemblues

blackpoemblues.weebly.com

Karin Heyer

Contact ArtiPeeps

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As always, thank you for your interest.

 

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Muspelheim: Sparks and Flames 2/4 The Nine Realms- Poems and Writing

20 May

nine realms8

The Nine Realms

9 months, 23 poets and writers, 22 Artists, 3 composers, 1 Viking boat: a magical reworking of Norse Mythology for contemporary audiences

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 Muspelheim

(the realm of fire)

Featuring:

Eleanor Perry, Jim C. Mackintosh

and Nat Hall

 

 

Capture Concept of thickness

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Under the Damage Tree

by Jim Mackintosh

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what is this brooding shape
fire licking across my vision
I smell it in the ice : shimmering tongues

in the destroyer’s raging silhouette
whose leaping flames freeze to the sky
in the impassable surrender to fire

a frozen corpse under the damage tree
cracked by the kiss of Surtr’s shine
his shadow bleeding over the moon

too late to stop the sway of travellers
mirrored in the crunch of brittle death
jammed to the parapet of Bitfrost

time straining against the reins
burning the days to come
quickening the battle’s build

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Fiery Us

by Nat Hall

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Look at the eye of the dragon.

Emerald
shining inside night,
from neck to
crown,
leaping red,
scalding scales 
lost inside orange,
in between
flames
and
Valhalla;
out of
earth’s plume,
world’s underworld, 
where lava flows,
fire giants,
fire demons
obey the land & their master,
the arsonist,
maker of sparks,
glow, ash-filled  sky –
the one
a seer
saw in a dream or
a nightmare.
Now lay your shield down
with your axe,
stand at the 
edge of
the
ocean,
your sheepskin
boots tied inside kelp,
and mind
the 
eye
of 
the
dragon.

© Nat Hall 2015 

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Find out more about Eleanor, Jim and Nat here:

Eleanor Perry

https://twitter.com/nellperry

Jim C. Mackintosh

bigbaffy.com

https://twitter.com/JimCMackintosh

Nat Hall

nordicblackbird.weebly.com

 https://twitter.com/nordicblackbird

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As always, thank you for your interest.

 

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Muspelheim: Sparks and Flames 1/4 The Nine Realms- Poems and Writing

13 May

nine realms8

The Nine Realms

9 months, 23 poets and writers, 22 Artists, 3 composers, 1 Viking boat: a magical reworking of Norse Mythology for contemporary audiences

.

 Muspelheim

(the realm of fire)

Featuring:

Lenka Monk, Tom Murphy

and Rebecca Audra Smith

 

 

Flammable

by Lenka Monk

Inspired by story of Surt and Sinmara

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……Everything is ablaze
with you in my realm.
Even the stars seared themselves into the black vast canvas above.
They can never go out. Not while your afterglow ignites
the very last inch of me.
My Twin flame you have become.
I am a firefly, drawn to your inferno
in an eternity of firestorms.
Our power combined, forged by the fiercest heat
inside a furnace consumed and spent on all levels.
The embers aglow.
You are my beacon to guide me
through darkness.
You are my lighthouse inside a storm’s eye.
I burn in you.
I burn with you,
while everything around us still smoulders…..

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Part 7

Muspelheim

by Tom Murphy

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there is this thing like a memory
a bridge between the living and the dead
between past and future

this thing is in the grove
this thing is in us
a bond even when we’re apart

it is a thick iron chain
it is a thin filament of web
it is a bridge of ice
melting in the fire
it is a waterfall
very high
and very thin

this beam of sun and moon
shining from the eyes
holds the gaze
holds everything in it’s lattice

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Baltimore Fires

by Rebecca Audra Smith

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the stars slip out of the way to show the unending tale
of what is done in their names, it’s Baltimore
Rocks thrown by men thrown by children thrown by police
Arson is their attempt to lick the sky with flame
Headlines tomorrow read, Michael Brown, Freddie Gray

In the midst of all that noise
Comes the sense the fight’s still hot, quell the flames
They cut the hose, when the store started burning
the protestors for peace, held up their hands, said don’t shoot,
but still sons are being shot, mother slaps her boy hard,
you’re not Freddie Gray, Walter Scott

earth swallows the sun, the flames are burning fire,
vapour and rage have made the air both crisp and dry
you don’t want to be famous, known for the hands by which you died
someone says it like a litany, Walter Scott, Eric Garner

I heard strange fruits being sung upon these police lined streets
As she spoke of her neighbours death, body swinging, heavy tree
Your name is a future hashtag when you were born dark skinned
In the midst of all this noise it seems no one has had their say
Protestors hold their signs up, Michael Brown, Freddie Gray.

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Find out more about Lenka, Tom and Rebecca here:

Lenka Monk

Contact ArtiPeeps

Tom Murphy

https://twitter.com/sandcave

Rebecca Audra Smith

https://twitter.com/BeccaAudra

beccaaudra.wordpress.com

 

 

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As always, thank you for your interest.

 

The Nine Realms Indiegogo Campaign:

http://igg.me/at/the9realms

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