Bits – an anniversary, a call for poets, a call for artists and a confession…
As I respond to requests for books and CDs and bank the cheques, (on-line buyability coming real soon), I see on the list a request for Road To Ragnarok. This is a book of action poems from way back. The actual performances were in 2005 it seems, and were perhaps the best shows I have ever done. When I go to print the book to pop in the post, I see that it was published in 2006; that was the last show I created which was poetry based. I became a storyteller as a result of this project.
I went to my monthly poetry show and said it is all stories tonight.
It is the tenth anniversary of my becoming a storyteller.
Advice on charging for e-books and sound-and-image downloads greatly appreciated btw
There is a snippet from Road To Ragnarok below….
Call for Poets
I was inspired in my latest Blog – https://adrianspendlowblog.com/2016/03/02/hey-ive-done-it-ive-remembered-the-first-poem-i-ever-wrote/
I have been inspired again as a result.
First Poem Ever
A monthly blog of first poems. Your own and those of famous people you admire. Join the amazing experience and offer your poems (this is just for fun at the moment but may lead to a profit share publication in the end). I look forward to seeing your offerings.
PS If you have never written a poem., all the better, do your first now!
Call for Artists
The Horned God and the Wild Hunt – Viking Comics Inc. are leaping into their second publication. Join us by offering the art work to be part of things.
We need over a hundred drawings. This will be a blog and then later a downloadable display for presentation at, markets, festivals and museums and for sale on line as a profit share. Maybe even as an actual book too.
Here is the blog so far….
Start talking to me now….
For the confession…
I may have caused my family trouble, and all mums visitors too. Everytime I am over there and mum says can you fetch me a paper I buy two. I am not keen on her getting all her news from a tabloid, so I’ve tried everything; i, The Telegraph, The Yorkshire Post. She is sticking with the Mirror. So this time I was over, I thought I would try something else. What did I buy her? The UK edition of National Enquirer (“The truth is out there, but sometimes it is hard to find”).
I didn’t tell her that its all made up. I am already imagining the conversations.
So this morning when I rang her I asked what she thought of that new paper. She really liked it, a real good read.
Be ready to hear that Elvis is alive and the second world war never ended, or that martians have landed in Scunthorpe.
But then again, she will love the celebrity stuff.
Here’s that snippet from my book…
Out of Chaos Can Come Life
The magical Seeress in the gruesome start of this adventure shows us the way to the start of all time and the birth of the very angry Giants. Your first chance to play all the parts.
Soon-grown Norse, we gather in the company of the Seeress
Dark dark this earth-smell fusty low-roofed home
Choking smoke weaves, fills, to cause a tear
As crackle fire builds, dazzles, “See in the flame” she says
Flickering flare it builds to glaze; to change the mind See the Scinn-beings climbing to your eye,
by Wiccecraeft spell”
The whole of story of the Norse,
the Viking-gone, the rich-return
All the stories, tales so old-old old-old old, we know
So long told we know, and hold in hearts/In soul.
They tell us how, and who, we are.
Be. Believe. Drink, juice of berry dark -in true-carved cup. See.
Hints of creatures;
writhe about; in all we see. Supernatural/freestyle
Wild-Charging from the thicket of this plate
Leaping at us fierce, so full, from all that’s carved
Curling up so sinuous/sly throughout the very foliage we hold
Up from eye-glazing flame spout creature/spirits to fill
To fill us, fire us, blind us to all fear or doubt
A badger in the soul, A wild cat in the spine
The rise of wide ‘splade wings inside the eye
Serpent, fierce rodent, bragging stag, bulbous bull
Experience the essence of fierce animal within us all!
We feed her, the tall fine seer all dressed in rarest fur
Gluttonous yellow glob of goat’s first-ever uddermilk in lump;
Beaten brass spoon is soon unwrapped, – a Walrus tooth to hold
Still pulsing pulled is beating heart of wolf that howling dies
Obsidian blade that glistens raised – stabs-out a pumping chunk
She, Thorbiorg-girl, throws off her sable mantle. She is beautiful.
Clinging-smooth: all precious glittering stones,
she reaches into low-slung Tinder-belt
Then scattering blasts of magic, be it bones or skin, “Draw in!”
“And so we know,” she says, “the Gods are deep inside”
“May we have: The far-sight of Heimdall”, Hush, listen, hear.
Nod to know all knowledge, as wise good Balder
Feel thrumming thrill of calling on the thunder-power of Thor!
By the wealth of all you feel: You truly are. “Go Viking!”
“Dare now: For all the world will end – in Ragnarok
And as you quest, as I send, let all spirit make you brave
Huge walrus ring, Bull rush bracer – intertwined with spidertwine
Helm n cloak n belt n gown all inter-wound with power divine
“Worlds will end! Or we at least will slow!”
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