Trickster Ravings


This infuriating principal decline of all things living, converting the outward center of sundry colored organisms that were in emanation from above directing their impulse perennially, exteriorly through an invisible middle door, unseen & unheard of, a devastation to the barred cerebral behavior of any well dressed rational idea! That would pertain ostensibly to a well ordered syllogism. Having Greek or Hebrew meanings in our words’ beginnings?! Giving us intellectual redemption?!



The Spirit plays the game,
in truth,
Without its asking any kind of permission;

A Wild Wind easing
the horrendous pressure between the tired eyes.

You must give & give again, again yes & once more :

Hugin shall with all the Aryan Peoples, excite Munin in his righteous
Racial Clime!


A Time celestial in a Sacred Place escaping the infernal clutching of jealous contempt.

Res cogitans, res extensa! Res cogitans esse Omnium, ego video, coruscent!

The 1st one said to me, « Brother ». The 2nd indeed repeated across the 9 encircled expanses : « Me too but I’m a woman! ». And Othin like a trickster understood.

« To win the battle, fight your foe on his own filthy turf, with weapons he has no idea of. If he cheats on your kindred, invading the Middle of the Earth, then learn the tune, just like they did at Olympus.

Your heart is with me in Asgard.

It’s from on high, I’ve come like you, my Kin.

In the skies & heavens of this World, Valhalla with its ale & mayhem will precipitate again the Gods! A great thunderbolt grappling at the sides of the glacial air, ripping open the Inner Earth where demons mixed with angels!

Afterwards, the fires will have receded. Purifying the Castes. The Varna here and there. And Baldur kiss his Bride again, but better than before! »

It’s the Spirit, plays the Game,
a Wild Wind erasing
that horrible pressure that was between the eyes!

You must give no more than taken
taking back what was yours.

   Hugin said to me, « I’m your spirit, the aether in the heart. » His sister then said, « I’m in the blood stream, a drop of golden green, your memory. »
Wotan said, « I’m the single eye like a lantern beaming, laughing interminably, the Father of Tîwaz and of Thor. »


Laisser un commentaire

Entrez vos coordonnées ci-dessous ou cliquez sur une icône pour vous connecter:


Vous commentez à l'aide de votre compte Déconnexion /  Changer )

Photo Google+

Vous commentez à l'aide de votre compte Google+. Déconnexion /  Changer )

Image Twitter

Vous commentez à l'aide de votre compte Twitter. Déconnexion /  Changer )

Photo Facebook

Vous commentez à l'aide de votre compte Facebook. Déconnexion /  Changer )

Connexion à %s