The Skald looked at the Facebook and observed the various discussions about privacy notices and supposed talismans that the masses posted to protect themselves from the Facebook’s varying whims. The Skald concluded that a talisman of his own would be a good idea. He then posted this verse, but it had a rather different purpose than the others. (Please share the picture, without alterations, as much as you like.)
Having reached at last the end of 2014, the skald and his lady enjoyed two Icelandic New Year’s traditions — the bonfires and fireworks. Then Eirik composed this ríma in the ferskeytt meter:
Mighty bonfire, burning fierce
brightly will shine, searing.
Deep it will the darkness pierce,
undimmed things appearing.
The onslaught of work spewed forth by the semester grew greater and greater, and it seemed to Eirik that attempts to get ahead of it were succeeding less than they had before. But the semester was mortally wounded, and the brave skald knew that he had only to fight a little bit longer. On December 12, final victory was gained. The skald had conquered, and the semester lay dead at last. Then Eirik composed this verse:
Black Knight’s challenge at bridge was first.
Though “none shall pass,” a knowledge contest,
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On October 20, the first snow accumulation of the season fell on Reykjavik. Then Eirik composed this verse:
Reykjavik’s snow rested on ground
an October morning autumnal delight.
Its fair flurries had fallen at night
on the sleeping city at sea-shore’s edge.
But the winter wonder, welcomed too soon,
had melted down in muddled drizzle,
with a likeness of memory left in waters
that the well of wyrd had away taken.
Copyright © 2014 Eirik Westcoat.
All rights reserved.
On October 9, I got to see the annual lighting of the Imagine Peace Tower, an outdoor work of art by Yoko Ono, located on Viðey Island just off the coast of Reykjavík here in Iceland. Its name in Icelandic, Friðarsúlan (lit., ‘the pillar of peace’), immediately reminded me of the ancient heathen toast, “til árs ok friðar” (lit., ‘for abundance and peace’). From there, I wondered if perhaps a second tower is needed, a hypothetical Árssúlan (lit. ‘the pillar of year’ in Modern Icelandic, but in Old Norse, “ár” also has meanings of plenty, abundance, and fruitfulness). Thus I wrote this verse:
“Hof” is my room: a heathen temple
to higher learning, where a horn is raised
to the elder gods of the Medieval North.
Repeating paradigms, I practice Old Norse,
and runes are written for raising consciousness.
The tales of knights by Chrétien I read,
and grails are sought for gain in my soul.
Of a Corpus of Lit, I acquire knowledge,
and mead is made for many to enjoy.
Copyright © 2014 Eirik Westcoat.
All rights reserved.
Whistling winds were whipping about
and sideways rain had soaked my clothes.
Oft is the weather in Iceland’s capital,
but to fimbul flurries, forward I look,
and the wondrous white of winter’s beauty,
ere darkness deep draws o’er the land.
Copyright © 2014 Eirik Westcoat.
All rights reserved.
Today starts a new experiment on this blog that will hopefully involve more frequent updates, though they will generally be shorter and still somewhat random. For now, I’m calling it Háskólavísur, which translates to “university verses.” These will be short verses on various aspects of my life here in Iceland as an M.A. student. The name is inspired by the term “lausavísur” (loose verses) used to describe the short bits of poetry that occur in Icelandic sagas, often as a poet’s response to some situation or other as part of the narrative. The meters I use for these verses may vary, with fornyrðislag, ljóðaháttr, and anglo-saxon being most likely. Later such posts probably won’t include much, if any, in the way of introduction, though the title will always include “Háskólavísur” with a steadily-increasing index number. Today’s verse is about some of the infamous Icelandic specialty foods.
I’ve posted a call to Thor previously on this blog, but like all the other ritual calls, it was two stanzas of ljóðaháttr. (See the Minor Poems list for the rest of the calls I’ve posted so far.) Since there is a lot of surviving lore about Thor, a longer call is possible. So today I present a seven stanza ljóðaháttr call to Thor. Like much of my poetry on my blog, it will be included in my upcoming book. It is titled “Call to Thor.”
Thunderous Thor,
threat-destroyer,
Asgard’s chosen champion,
we boast of your might
and bounty of main
in the call we declare today.
Back in February, I mentioned I was experimenting in writing slam poetry in the alliterative meters. Today I present one of the results of that experiment, which I actually presented at the Steel City Slam on March 25. However, it appears that the world of slam is not yet ready for metered Viking poetry. (Indeed, presenting a poem in meter is virtually unheard of in the slam scene.) Nevertheless, I enjoyed writing in this particular style and tone and will probably do so again in the future. I may try something even more unusual in the future: writing an “MFA-style” poem, but in my own voice and using the ancient meters.
The poem is titled “Ancient and Modern Dragons” and it is written in 48 lines of the Anglo-Saxon continuous style that is not broken into stanzas (which first debuted here on my blog). Of the various alliterative forms I work with, I think it is the one best suited to slam poetry. The poem features famous dragons from ancient and modern literature, and more political commentary than is usual for my poems. It’s still heathen to the core, however. 🙂
Of ancient dragons, the elder poets
left us stories of their strength and size:
Of hungry Níðhögg, who gnaws at the roots
of the great green tree, a glorious ash
that nurtures the worlds, named Yggdrasil.
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The Skaldic Eagle 