LIVING THE SEASONS

I live in Scandinavia where the changes of the seasons are clearly felt and are very visible. All seasons here have their charm; we have all heard that said a few times. As well as the words about that the season we prefer mostly are the one we were born in, that could be for some… My seasons of choice, or choices, are the late autumn and the first half of winter. In general I like to overdress myself, cover myself a bit, and I like being active just a little bit to keep my temperature.

In my teens and a bit further on, I lived in the center of towns and very rarely went out to visit any forests. I found the seasons in the towns I lived in to be a nuisance and the summer was mostly too hot and dusty, all the winters were too cold and dark, ice annoyed me when it was hard to walk as it had been snowing and then frozen with hundreds of people walking it rough and rugged…

I always look at trees, any tree I will glance at with an aesthetic mind. The ugly buildings everywhere and all the sick people are painful to my eyes, but trees and their changing will always soothe me. It took some time to really get to know nature again, through the years after been cut off from being one with nature. I felt that nature was just not paying off any effort given in material goods, I pretended that I didn’t need any kind of spiritual connection in the pitiful life I had… I have since then lived secluded and very close to nature for many years, walking and taking photographs and enjoying the different seasons as they enter and leave; to the point that I actually got bored of it all. Still, it is in my senses and I live with the seasons.

LET ME SEARCH FOR FOUR-LEAF CLOVERS

Let me be in all the days

where wild strawberries are attached to straw,

where lilies of the valley gleam white in the glades

and my chanterelles glow yellow from the groves

 

Let me search for four-leaf clovers

Let me gladly drown the sorrow

and become the real in me

 

Let me inoculate a leaf on a three-leaf clover

Let me create four-leaf clovers!

 

LET ME!

 

Remaining here was this heart

in its anciently dormant well

to retrieve, open and carry

 

Raising myself

 

Letting me newkiss the wetlands’ sun-warmed cloudberries

in the wilderness where the deer’s dances nightly with elks

while these stars in this night are set guard over the sparks

and the rowan berries solemnly sail across the forest lakes

 

Raising myself

 

It takes a while before the veils bend down

 

 

Gone

are dusted membranes

*

 

In all my four poetry books I’ve had a theme that runs through all the seasons. And, I lived within the changes in the seasons for around twenty years. I needed to stand in; to live in each season to know it and then embrace it into myself for love, comfort and Knowledge. I truly did sense the nature and its seasons change: The flowering of the almond-trees and the taste of wild strawberries, the autumn-leaves falling beneath painted skies, all of life in its different shades and aspects, the gentle flower-filled meadow in the summer. Then again, the beauty in the seasons through nature is far from everything that holds value in Life, but in this world today, many minds clearly lack the ability to be one with nature.

 

WINDSIDES

Living merely in my autumn leaves, watercourses and clouds,

like a kissed harvest pulled by longings silenced promises

and as unwillingly begged, hard nightflowered and teared

 

The forest sun-striated (Dreamed in Life’s Windsnare)

meanwhile the raining leaned in slowly, hesitent steps

 

(Watching melting, hectically dripping under springsun’s might)

 

In stonelee will soon the violets be placed harrowed here again

and then fade, shyly slouch, under the night-time’s journey

 

(Enough about that.)

 

Stepping up a daily route and got beautiful together with dawning

and when later the rain carefully fell asleep weary beside the dusking

down under raking forest tree tops underneath the greyspeckled skies

was springs-ground seen turning home to barrenly (and slowly) thaw drinking

 

Gazing miles wide around over the halfway snow stained mounds

where furrowed fields stood silent as frozen, stopped sea waves,

while the Winds hit, took headway from all four sides, then suddenly!:

At precisely the right time beams of the Sun broke in over the district

The springtender light lit carefully (Warmed the last years grass)

and little shadows flickered themselves quickly over creek and river

 

I have eye-caressed the pinebedded grounds fairest days

before nocturnal fog arose around tender forestshadows

 

Beneath rainpines’ dripping greeted my sight modest flowering,

together with the rain teared down with most broken branches

 

 

Indulgent crop on sweet forest ploughed strips, stay here.

*

I know that the two poems above are quite loaded with imagery, and that was part of the point and perhaps their sole strength when I wrote them a few years back. It is a pressing on, a forcing down of an overload of images, to compress the beauty I saw and wanted and then stressing that very beauty against the senses. We all have to live without that much beauty being present in everything, and we also need to fill ourselves with a clear understanding of what beauty in nature through the seasons give to our lives. Or, we will have next to nothing in our life outside ourselves and egoism when we live in this world. Seasons? I’m all in for it.

1 S

LIVING THE SEASONS

THE WAR AGAINST THE JUNK-CULTURE

We with normal Knowledge, and far more sense, know that this world is wrong to such extents that all except understanding one’s axiomatic hatred and disgust against the foes’ manipulations and violent deeds would be a completely jaded and heartless condition. The War against this world is run, as you will all know, by the foes with invalid “religions” and false “ideologies” that have forced forward a detached hatred and other perversion against all value in Life; hindering the life-giving Knowledge and shaping a passiveness for the foes morally harmful and clear untruths. Sadly this world is now in all too much lowered by planned physical and psychological atrocities, where millions of humans lie struck down in the foes blinkers; and there with all resources hindered from knowing about and live their own identity and progression.

Nobody is what one involuntarily, due to ignorance or coercion, has consumed and produced beneath the foes’ twisted, controlling and deranged activities, which may be to a little console. But, we needn’t any consolation in a healthy society.

For those who have been used, as a rule unknowingly, into acting as products and store fronts to drag forth the unwanted and degrading propaganda from our foes, then it’s of course liberating to be able to realize the self to be fooled; that one’s life’s struggles have been completely meaningless and finally can be left, and that a real life with real value and status can take on its beginning.

We must take an open fight in all situations. Cowardice against wrongs is always to die a little bit.

THE MURDERING ILLUSION

The caused offences against our world are more than serious; we will come to be forced to pay very dearly for our coming normal cleansing and freedom, and this comes from the fact that many have been forced and lured away from The Gods and our holy Tru; traditions and The Knowledge that was given in consultation with The Folk at their shaping and in the new times, given after humans individual prerequisites and aim: This is the core that is Life itself in our lives.

The junk-culture; this deadly and hated Illusion, serves under dumbness as guilt through association, most words win; and to set in focus insignificant and completely extraneous questions that prevent the brain from collecting the only significant information for our lives and clarify what is self-evident in this world.

For many are now the normal self-preservation and the natural selection set out of order by brainwashing, sorcery, and harshly calculated reasons towards damaging causes with the support by the foes false “religion-ideologies”; and that this has in the Middleperiod appeared completely open, as if this could be fully normal, is frightening. The carriers of these junk-cultural non-identities, meaning these outside The Culture and The Gods, have imagined that they take part in some kind of social development of our societies with their tortured non-life’s its meaningless as a cheap price to pay…

To be manipulated into acting as the foes’ active or passive weaponry against our world and thereafter be slaughtered as a meaningless animal happens in very rare cases with any free will. We will not wait on for the world to be cleansed for us all and that a functioning and working freedom in this world with The Gods becomes so natural in our understanding that everything will handle itself. To place too much trust and self-esteem in one’s own safety and superiority in certain regards, true or not, can be dangerous and deadly. This has, as history shows, happened before.

It will come to be a great war against the temporary and undignified non-societies’, against the foes’ controlling false royal houses now occupied by scum, defect governments and their repulsive media, and much else, that for a last time will be crushed to all costs. We will simultaneously free all foreign collective imaginations from its ignorance regarding our heritages and retain what we all are in our core and live our collected aim with The Gods.

That we once and for all must fasten the fact that junk-culture is a weapon from our foes; a plan to lead forward our current non-societies immorality, dumbness and death, and that this is working in the purpose to cause the largest possible degradation and most painful imaginable suffering must be realized to its full extent.

BEING FORCED TO ENLIGHTEN ABOUT CAUSE AND EFFECT…

Naturally, all that becomes read, heard and seen, leaves a smaller or larger imprint. That is a natural law of cause and effect. This consumption from junk-culture affects in many ways and can be hard to find the cause to and individually investigate when this forcibly gets its outlet in different disorders and unwanted behaviours. The painfully embarrassing copying of defect behavior in “the youth-cultures” are well-known and has long been used for a weapon, which together with lack of knowledge for one’s own and others’ identities often leads to lives degraded beyond comprehension. The most repeated opinions with the role models in the false identities words and behaviours from the manipulations become thereafter to what the naïve and powerless say and do. If these want to claim that they have chosen a defect and retarded life in junk-culture by free will then the brainwash is completed and there will be a need of care and in many cases a long time treatment.

The dragged down do not manage to care about the broken surroundings anymore, which is fully understandable, but when these still actively or passively participate in the dumbness without themselves being able to admit this and their prostitution to a hostile, and in highest degree controlled and defect society, then arrangements are needed.

It is of course a free choice how one shall live and die, if one now is kept healthy and informed in regards to Reality.

WHERE THE DEW NEVER DRIES

It was in a time before silence was altered ―

just as daybreak came walking across the region
while cloudshadows swept onwards ― observing.

And the world set ― in Dumbness; uncountable scars
where excessive junk searched of ways to be charming…

(Myself? Wandered free there the dew never dries
and all of Life’s paths showed forward to Odin.)

We vaguely remembered safety and honestly owned excess,
real life in beauteous honour ― a longing home to Asgard;
to grow well rooted value only Goodness could bid Us.

(Obeying my steps. Leaving the bare ground opened traces
in time before the first snow will return as a threat.)

Skillfully, surely all too well, Truth answers:

“Tear down any seeming solace ― it is venality: Death.

We have foes to correct; to pay our plight, in our sight,
for naught stand more fairer grown than killed lies in life.

Let shatter the nightmareyears. Give Truth to hate and cure.

BE HONOURED! MIGHT AND GLADNESS! SET YOUR LIFE’S ROOT!”


THERE THE DEW NEVER DRIES

SUNBRANCHES

Firmly risted in hidden recess until Ragnarok.

Fetching yet another unlovable stretch to love:

Branches in wait here, all too dead calm
before, as foretold is; We can gather to the mould
as love’s owned and dying breed: Caught,
while sea mist rises inside the birchleafrains

The leaves down in the slush dampen hard steps.

The lacking; root to crown, severely drains this world.

But, wilted flowers recall that they won against darkness!

WE ARE HERE! CAN NOT LOVE OR BE LOVED ENOUGH!

Welcome, to our rich camp’s unity
there Sun will hand us his friendliest reverence
from forestkissed skies freed from uncertainty
inside of dusk and dawn, dear Light of excellence!

VALUABLE LIFE FINDS THE HIGHEST FUTURE,
SO HASTEN ― STRENGTHEN NEW DAYS ON THE PATH!

RIGHTS TO CLARITY ARE THE WORLDS’ SOLVED ANSWER:

THE GODS WILL REMAIN!
SUNBRANCHES

REMOUNT

We know, know how a shattered thought bit us:
That to life dragged will here be thrashed.

(Now owning the last torn down lifeline.)

Weakening down, defying that weakness is death.

These are tangled years
where the wishing doesn’t reach down to matter;
wrecked frozen unripe buds
where needs don’t manage to reach up to any will
from the fallow; the growth lands,
there lust rarely tricks itself grown above loathing.

(In front of hurtfilled opened eyes to realities
burns a cold indifference down inside; through us:
Dumbness of Worlds in all its swathing wholeness.)

Viet, the new time, taking year after year,
where blow upon blow sets the boundaries of the helpless
and harshly hits any survival with swath after swath

(This world where thinking has stayed in death
and the rotten parts of wholeness are to be cured;
leaving a new unity worthy of our lives.)

Righting here this world’s flat and foul opinions.

Life, awaken to be sharply lived with the Rights
teach that all rot inside came from outer affront
and finding no value in murdered sufficiency

Shaping Midgard’s holds and leaving all emptiness.

REMOUNT.