God’s Bless Ya!!! 02 – Hel – Ragnarok Mythology Festival, Denmark
(for bookings visit our site.)
As part of our show featuring myself with Alda and Sigrun Bjork Olafsdottir and our stunning models we present costume, music, song and story for a Goddess experience.
Here are poems inspired by Lady Hel herself, ruler of the dark lands of the in-valiant dead followed by my narration for the cat walk and the stunning Hel costume designed by Sigrun is elegantly shown for us by our talented model displaying for you to the unique magic of Alda’s composition.
The Hel Poems
Warning; Enter if you dare – here is contained the Viking history of belief in death, suffering and hell.
Read on only if you are of strong mind, will and maturity.
Ride beyond Modgud the bandaged and bleeding one if brave enough to cross her chasm path.
See eyes in the dark as growls rumble; guard hound Garm will let you in – yet will never let you out: see fire-eyes, hear blood drip as you slide by.
Hear forever screams from the long long long drop of the worthless as you leap the abyss.
Hel Poem 01 – What is Done Can Never Be
Born her of giants,
their shape-changer essence perverted her form
Until she matured monstrous
Living and dead
Rotten and luscious mixed
Yet somehow alluring
Attracting you into her power
Commanding in presence
She pulls you into her will
You forever admire
Beg to endlessly serve
Wise Norns spoke of the danger of her
Born of beings of evil
Begatted by badness
The evil pretender god
With the hulking death volva
She was destined toward greatness
Forever to be fearful
Hel Poem 02 – Kenning
If you wish to share,
Hel is just down there…
Hel poem 03 – Go Now Down
To where the cursed one fell
Ride nine days down
The north beneath the north
The world beneath the worlds
Hel’s citadel in hel,
Built forbidding from her mighty will
The darkest of powers of construction
Power out of destruction and death,
Here recreated from dread essence
Built of bitter cold,
The unending nights very core
All that remains of the dust of suffering
These her tools
The falling screams
Welts poisons spray cements and bonds
Take not your toe nails with you long
Naglfor is rising in the rising sea
To fly to war, to death of all
Oath-breakers island over rivers of spears
Living serpents bind and twine,
to bite the liar encased within
Niflhel her misty hel
Her towering walls are thrusted
Meer strength of will these gates forbidding built
From living witches buried deep
There grows the putrid plants of undead sustenance
Hel built all this
From dastard whim
Hel Poem 04 – Enter Forever
Doors open for you
To cavernous hall
Countless faces turn to you
Slowly the new dead turn grey face
The rotting and green see you
Further in the darkness,
are the less flesh than bone
Hear a drip drip drip
Watch your footing as you walk
Welcome to the land of the dead
Of the waiting
Lives of the countless
The pitiful, the unanswered,
The resigned and the scowling
Here are the leering, the most treacherous
You are stared at by the murderous
Feel if you can for the agonised
Beyond them the angry
Eyes only for you
Speak not to the dead
For then they can all speak to you
All, all at once
In their many moods and wishes
Many broken sounds.
From her glimmering veils of misfortune
She steps dangerously forward
Mottled and mouldering
Be caught in a tear fall forever to have seen her
To be doubt-filled, untrusting, contrary to the full.
This is a testing, so beware her
Let all weep for your passing
Or scream silently forever in living hungry death
Shades in the shades see you
She holds the very god of light and beauty in her power
Your tears melt the rime, these are meltwater tears
Beware her lest she summons her father
In his shape-shifter form he will remove all your hope.
She has you under her power
Will feed and keep you, all bedecked in gold;
those of you who see yourselves witches or herbal
Prepare to whimper under deep dark earth buried forever
You are summoned
Weep till you weep dry tears
Hel Poem 05 – Witch Burier
Rust Red the cockerel awakens the dead
There is one who has not slept
Alive she is buried
Buried by Hel,
Daughter of Angraboda, born in Jotenheim
Here in Niflhel she buried her witch mother
Aware under there
So she Angraboda will know forever
That she is dead
Summon her from the earth if you dare
She will answer three questions
Yet all she wishes is,
to return to her dark earthen misery
She will take you with her too if she can
All she needs to know is your true name
Down you will go
Hel Poem 06 – You Cheater
If you spat in barrel,
and then broke your word
Then yes you shall go to her
Are you a liar?
All oath-breakers travel to her
Worst of the worst is the unfaithful
That is a promise which must not be broken
Meer human you have faults
So hence you will go to her
You know in your hearts
You are unfaithful; a liar
You cheat and you steal
And the tower awaits you
Step now though the waters
The icy waters of the river
The fast flowing river
Forged only of frozen
Each of the ice parts
Is formed as a spear head,
A seaxe or a dagger point
Bleed as you scream as you wade
Do not hurry though
For a torture of forever is waiting there
A tower of serpents
They will bite you forever
They will burn you with poison
Forever is forever
Oh how you will scream
Hel poem 07 – To Dream of Hel as Balder Did
Escape dark shapes in nightmares if you may.
For she will call for you
And oh yes, you will offer to go
As now each night in readiness she grooms
She brings you the despicable. Yes,
Gasp and moan. Be in half light, turn grey.
Whitening to the emptiness of the whitest weed
Feel not the sun’s warmth ever,
even when you walk awake
Seek deeper sleep…
Shadow skulkers shapeless now
Ghostly skull guests creep
Monstrous forms will snuff you
Thrash and kick all you will
Oh hope your screams will wake you
The lingering feelings will remain:
Naked doomed fear has grasped the living
As she was hurled into mist and darkness
You too now yearn for the world beneath worlds
Odin’s curse Hel wishes to share
are falling and falling
Hel (Prose) Poem 08 – Half Dead She Will Kill US
In her home beyond the sheer rock, she still hears the curse words,
“Share all that you have with the dead, adorn them in gold and feed them your putrid foods”
Her brother encircles the world.
While her other brother above bound to earth howls to be rescued.
One day her father will howl out in agony with hope in his dark heart that his offspring shall aid him, vengeance will be theirs together; Oh yes.
Capable of great structures, dark creation, from dark materials.
She has a ship readying, a dread vessel filling with undead.
Her Man-servant Ganglati and Maid-servant Ganglot they move so slow as not to be seen, until they are upon you; like weeping dark angels of stone.
She eats from Hunger with her knife Famine thinking only of the moment.
Sleeps in Sick Bed, her bed curtained by Glimmering Misfortune.
She dreams of the death of us.
Vengeance shall be theirs, Oh yes.
The Catwalk Talk
Born of a giantess who loved the unfaithful-one she was taken away because of her monstrousness. Her mother Angraboda was bound in her sleep by the Gods who despised her, and so hated her daughter. Hel is a putrid thing, half dead half alive. They cast her to Hel as her home down below us. As she fell and fell through the misty dark gloom the words of Odin echoed through her. “You are cursed, in your half-rotten half-beautiful self you are fitting only for death, live the forever death building cities for the dead.”
As she fell, as she landed, as she built, she swore her revenge. Oh how the world will end. Her great halls are filled with the myriad dead, only those fallen, who lost badly or while running, none of the brave go there. Die well my friends or you will join her. She looks at you now and feels the lies in your heart, the fears from your dreams and she knows. Your twisted dark desires glow out from you like a punishment, you have it in you to be one with her. For yes Hel is beautiful, entrancing, but once in her power when she turns to her other side there is the putridness you will worship forever. Oh yes, she knows. She knows you will be coming to her, you will feel the call in your nightmares and then forever in her halls hungry and bitter, awaiting the battle, the final battle to end all battles where everybody dies: Ragnarok is coming and you dark ones are ready, to rise up, rise up, rise up.
See also God’s Bless Ya!!! 01 – Skadi the Huntress