Unknown's avatar

I ETT TIDLÖST

Klarvaken.

.

Tar över gryningen,

sparkar runt nere i strandbrinkens sand ―

urskiljer en grålada stå bland sommarens ruiner

.

Stiger upp på kanten till en ännu sovande stenbro

när en liten forsärla flyr iväg med ett slocknat skri;

nästan ohörbar i vårt samtycke till tysta vindkast

.

(Det sårar att vara så bottenlöst utsatt för misstro.)

.

Det skär till hårt i min inblick.

.

Trist. Är en alltför lättsårad; en inåtvänd snarstucken,

lurad till att träna mig balanserad; plågas hudlöst,

vara en sårbar och samtidigt undvika hårda sårnader

.

(Har alla såren kvar och nattar min fägringsdröm igen.)

.

Har ovårdat mig till att komma ner till andras likhet;

att envist sättas på undantag som en okänd egenhet

Men…, det ena ger ändå det sista ― In till ett olöst

.

(Var kvar i en sent lagd höst, i ett nyckfullt ― I ett tidlöst.)

.

Äntligen hugger smärtan klart.

.

Det är sent.

Gitter inte gräva mer i murknat trä nu.

.

Klarvaken.

I ETT TIDLÖST

Unknown's avatar

VID FASTSLAGNA MISSTAG

Kom när vad det hela innebär.

 

VÄNT RÄTT ÄR VÅR VERKLIGHET

VÄRMANDE ALLT SOM ÄR VILSET

OCH KASTAT HIT RÄTT OCH VIST

VRIDER VI HÄR OVISST VISST!

 

Känn väl rättad orsak och verkan.

 

Släng dig ner rubbad åt de rubbade!

Slakta ytliga betraktelsernas slöjor!

Slå mynt av olösliga grumliga tankar!

 

Ska ni tigga här om att bli dödade

så kommer ni aldrig att bli nekade.

 

Sällan orkar framtiden innesluten fullföljas när

sävlig dumhet på grönbete, i sin dödade glädje,

säljer Ödet till en närmast ofattbar aningslöshet

 

Stärkt återvänd blir återfunnet

ställt bland villkorens alla ogräs;

ständigt mellan sällsynt och… Inget.

 

Gott att tydligt se vad tomheten visar

där minst ovilja mot blir mest vilja till

 

Du är nu vad det hela innebär.

VID FASTSLAGNA MISSTAG

 

Unknown's avatar

NEW YEAR!

I reached my goals for this year when it comes down to showing up with some productivity, granted be that it was for the most part writing as far back as seven years that went into small print and production. I also managed to reach post number three hundred and got over five thousand followers on this blog/homepage. And, I started up www.asatruth.com again with a dozen posts.

The two books I made this year with my translated poetry; AS ONE and HUNTED IN INVIOLABLE BLOOD has been read by a few thousand and understood by too few, they will of course be read by many more; and much more interested people in the future. I also did a book in Swedish with poetry; I KLARHET     IMMA (IN CLARITY     MIST) and I had my second photo exhibition under the name 1 SIGFRIDSSON; called DUSSINFOTO (DOZENPHOTO). As my grand finale for this year I did the magazine: NEW TIME (THE SOLSTICE WELL) that gathered some of my articles, naturally I found some minor mistakes here and there after it was completed…. O! I continuously avoid perfection. 

I’m rarely as productive as I would like to be so I’m pleased anyway. (Honestly, I’m a bit humoured by how I always wait so I can start up from zero with everything I have done in my life. It has to do with that I would get bored and leave it if I didn’t keep it a bit shaky and interesting until final day of production. It gives it that unique one of a kind touch, perhaps or perhaps not… I can always fix it in the mix some other rainy day.)

I still buy and sell a few books, records and other crap now and then on the internet. I find it curious that many believe that I must be a “fan” of what I “trade” with… Trust me, I’m not a “fan” of any junk-culture. As far as I’m concerned it can all burn and be erased from this world. Why do I even touch it? It keeps my mind occupied a few hours here and there every second month or so. Maybe I just need a small hobby to avoid going out and stabbing people? (By the way, I have stopped with this small trading, I might sell a few things once or twice more…)

Earlier this year there was some goofy literature magazines that complained about that I gave them material through e-mail without treating them as very special individuals, as they all are so important that I just have to send them a few words each for their magazines that I would never read, at least not without puking. Why send them anything then? It is merely for spreading my material around a bit. I really do not wish to be in any of the junk-culture magazines. I have stopped sending out material altogether now, not a copy was sent out of NEW TIME (THE SOLSTICE WELL). I might send out something in the future, but I doubt it. (I might become forced to, for some reason or another…)

You know, if the world was perfect then I would sit and dream and write aesthetic and fragile poetry all day long. I would have some peaches with cream and some cold mineral water and then go out and smell the forest after the rain in the Spring/Summer/Autumn. Etc. I do not sit and daydream as the nightmare of the present reality in this world will take over in a few seconds… Now there is a Winter… I do not have any papers to write on… On the positive side I do have some cream in a can… It is fattening.

I figure that I’m now about 0,001% of what I should have been some twenty years ago, that is slightly depressing. At least I’m on the map for the New Time and that is more than most who lived in this sad middle-period of time have. Next year will be mine.

I will raise One fulltru-glass on New Year as a first, last and always.

 

1 S

NEW YEAR!

Unknown's avatar

IDENTITY AND IDEALS

I lived my life for more than a decade without clarity in my identity and my Knowledge; without much of any thoughts about ideals or truth, for forced upon reasons. I might as well have been dead. I did not have any kind of ideal in mind at all and to explain away this would be insulting to the current and normal low-life; if that could be insulted, for I did not find much in anyone or anything I could admire, or just find any kind of “respect” for.

The ideals that I now hold, again, since close to nineteen years back, are based on what I recall from past life’s experiences: Truth, honour and my name. With side dishes as gladness, strength, knowledge, intellect, you know the drill. All values that can be found high and tasty will make the plate. I will true that it’s much less costly to just live inside these ideals and not walk around as too much of a “normal weirdo”. But, the strength to live these; for a real human quite average ideals, when personal will and lust for anything readily available in the current society is made into brainwashed garbage is nearly impossible.

I hate this controlled, fake and sick society that our foes control more than anyone can imagine. And, I would rather cave in than feed it in any way. We all had to live in this period just before people will get their minds back, and we sure do have problems now with the collective mindset… Should I make a list for you? Many listen to the tune of; “Others think this and that”, and are thus led away to become accepted as part of being “normal”, and since a long period ago it is a killing joke. Also, when blindfolding Life to never see or live beyond what words can hand over within them to feel or understand, then there is a huge problem. Reacting strongly to these words, or not at all? That really is of no concern. Truth is always pretty and everything we got. Know it. Go and live it. Words are nothing if never lived, as I’m sure you know.

I am from Uppsala, which is the strongest place there is for identity in this world, being the place of Odin and the Gods since way back in time. But, as everywhere the identity “on the street” is taken from days and times gone by. When I visit or live in my hometown, every now and then, I see people that wish to have their identity shared in some way; most notably have some part of the Viking Age and walking around in “Old Uppsala” to gather strength and honour from the last time real humans could be the normality. Any strength and honour shared from a past that would transfer without having any strong and active belief in the Gods; or even knowing what bloodlines, or even down to what Folk they are part of, is unlikely to give much. (Some of us of course know from other sources where we belong.) Anyway, this kind of identity reminds me a bit of the “We went to the moon-thing”. I remember hearing this motivational reminder a lot in school when I was younger, so we all had to think back sitting in Apollo 11 and looking out the window back to earth and then stepping around on the moon… Do you remember doing that? “We” invented all culture and all inventions; “We” even invented our own forefathers the Gods… “We” are really great then. I wish. To take identity from the highest and greatest imaginable is nice, if you truly know what that is, and you actually have a real part of it… “We as humans”; and that is a quote, have what we are and do.

I met this woman that had been acting as a völva, sadly in some seriously warped belief in how a völva was supposed to act, at some tourist spot up north. After that she had “understood” that she actually was a reincarnated völva. This is nothing to doubt. People are helped to find other reincarnated people they can give or get help from in the Oddest ways. Ideally and in reality a völva is a holy woman that is kept pure and untouched by people, her inherited gifts are to foresee time and make remedies from herbs, and other things to help. We met once and walked around a few hours, with a mutual friend, and visited old burial mounds, a cave and some other places up north. These women spoke about these places as if it was their ancestors in the burial mounds. It was mostly Sami and Scythian remnants, which people that live there now tend to “forget”. Not that it matters greatly today as all the old “northern” tribes are a bit mixed. That is what spitting in the same bucket would mean. She told me that she did not really like Odin, influenced by propaganda in a book or two, and was all for “Jord”, that is sort of “Mother Earth” in some warped sense of a “Goddess” that is “the soul” of soil and rocks… Jord is another name for Frigga, and she is not soil and rocks, I have met her a few times. It was more of a thing that this “völva” wanted to identify with a “woman”, not knowing the very basic fact that a völva, like a valkyrie, is a follower of Odin… That type of deranged thinking from this low time when some try to become what is imagined to be closest to your ego to identify with is pitiful. That “thinking” has no place in Life at all. Identities are too often taking a share of credit where there is none to be taken.

Moving on…

I would hate to be young again and only have my youth as a fake resource handed down as a present for my identity from the junk-society to live on. Being “young” is currently an excuse for behaving immature and retarded, and anything past twenty years of age can absolutely not be called young, so do not be fooled. We have all been told that; “Everything is in the mind.” I understand it my way. I see people that do nothing good at all and still hold a belief that they are important and all wrongs they do can be traced to the fault of others, and they sure can be right about that. It happened to me. Others believe that dragging others down is making them bigger and better somehow, without putting any real effort into making something of value for Life. (Do not wonder where this deranged thinking in society comes from…)

I recall that I was told to think that my productivity and producing was equal to my life. “What I do is who I am…” Naturally, any kind of productivity is just a survival tactic. I really didn’t work that hard on producing most of the time…Anyhow, I don’t want anything in life for my ego other than maybe to walk in the forest alone and feel good from rain or sunshine, write a tiny bit. That would be my egoism in full, to get by with. And, I am not alone with having a humble and modest need. Any grander thoughts I have to spell out here and there, as the slightly unrehearsed modern day shaman that I am, is for love and protection; good against evil in Reality. I do not want much for myself, and I really do not care enough to get “a common good life down in the lies”. I can easily have that. But, it is worth nothing if the world is rotten to the core.

My life is not normal by any standard; it is greater in all valuable aspects and at the same time it’s been made into a horror of bitterness. Well, to do anything right in a world that now is so wrong in most aspects, if not all aspects, takes Knowledge and a lust for life. Anything else is of course futile; a time-consuming nonsense. We need to fight the Illusion. Just clean it out and find your identity: Your Life.

 

DAGAZ

DAGAZ

Unknown's avatar

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 evening

down under raking forest tree tops underneath the greyspeckled skies

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

 

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 from 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.

WINDSIDES

WINDSIDES

 

Unknown's avatar

ULTIMATUM

O!

You so easily bought, mightless and tarned,

trapped scabby with the loss of lust caught,

fully emptied of rights: Necessarily trashed!

 

You…

 

You! Forgotten remaining in a worn and fouled

You! Eyetiredly drowned in permanent quicksand

You tracelessly left to be helpless,

you filthy weak and meek, listen up a while!

 

Long enough has wished for been searched down in unwanted

while illusions has been emptied of gladness

where false found thought-worthy qualm unthought thought

and exertedly spilled its power on the pitiful needs

 

Only misanthropists can love what our world has become

while deprived and crushed promises been mortarized

for the weed itself has scuffled in thirst after our blood,

around, and down, at the poisoned well’s places

 

And few wish little more than to qualify as wretch…

 

It is me anyway so bitingly bitter to break

with ripped apart society’s broken

where the crippled and dizzy demand Life to crippled be

 

Hardly.