Poetry collection

[Adge]

Thank you to all those whose native tongue is Finnish for the translations of Lalli's invocation here (and for all the translations throughout ssss). This one is mostly due to Incánus - though all errors of translation, culture, theology, understanding, etc are of course mine.

Chapter 3

High-mooded Mora, hill-girt capital,
Its station filled with still rail-cars
Profitlessly stored for stubborn pride
Of Swedish folk, faring southwards
To the ocean bridge of Öresund.
Few and hardy the folk riding
The Dalahast road through dangerous lands
Where trolls and giants the trains have shent
And passengers slain. The companions join
The waiting folk, few and nervous
At the boarding ramp. The route-master,
Steel-horse ostler, sturdy folk-guard,
Leads them aboard, but Lalli night-scout,
Wise-eyed noita, noes the command –
Feels in the dark a future threat,
A baleful power; begs from Kuutar,
Moon-queen merciful, mighty guardian,
Her cleansing light to clear their way:
“Gracious Kuutar, great Moon-lady,
Heaven's Daughter, Highest Wisdom,
Hear your faithful follower's pleading
Hear my weeping, wanhope fearing,
Hear and help this home-far servant;
Shield my way with shimmering silver
Lead my path where light will guard me,
Where no death can whelm my spirit
No fell goblins gape my earth-home,
Grief remove from my long journey
That to Tuoni's teine I come not
In his halls not held as captive!”
Forlorn, fearful, Lalli, night-scout,
Couraged by light from Kuutar sent
Boards with the others the bastion car.
The strait bunk-beds, with straps harnessed,
By cats guarded, give them problems
As the tracks rattle the rolling train;
Swede-tongued Emil, Suomi Lalli
With mute distrust of restraining belts,
In their crossed tongues cry a good word
As they lull to sleep. Lalli night-scout,
Wight mage-gifted, wakes in the dark;
Noita wary, in the night sensing
Fiend-ettin words in the wireless noise,
A troll presence in the train’s path;
An unfurling giant, a foe too near
In moonless night. Nudging Emil
To lock his belt, Lalli night-scout
Abides the crash; belt-slack Emil
Is flung to the floor, flying to ground.
As the train-guardians for control fight
In the lurching car, Lalli mage-scout
Dives to the coach-hall; dumb and steadfast
Points to the roof; the route-master
His tenor grasps and the team prepares
For the giant that rips the roof away –
A fell serpent, its folds cascade
From the cabin’s ceil to the coach-hall floor
Through warrior’s shots; a worm gore-sparging,
Its blows dunching the bloodied walls,
The star-cracked doors; stiff-hearted, the crew
With gunshots shear the shent screamers,
But defiant guns are futile to scathe
Or hinder the thirse in its hunt for prey.
Rib-fingered arms reach and strangle;
Claw-tentacled heads clamber and flail
For their fresh meat. Masking the folk
In the locked sleep-car, the line-warriors,
Car-folk guardians, with courage strong
The fell foe-giant fight undaunted,
cutting, slashing, slamming, punching,
Barring the steel-hold from the beating arms
Fishing for prey. But their fierce attacks
Halt not the giant; their hand weapons –
One mark making on a manifold enemy –
Stem not the foe, till a stour unguessed:
Foe-limbs and blood fall among them
Snipped at the roof; the snake-ettin’s lich
Scoured from the car, scotched and severed;
Its doom a tunnel. But death for the foe
Comes not at once; cut and divided
Each foe segment, each fiend-hame scrap
Still lives and fights. Fearing for Lalli,
Emil, panicking, punches a face
Of the giant’s core, casts it to silence
From desperate woe. One by slow one
The coach guardians uncover the threats,
Shend the fragments and reassurance bring
To the terrified folk: that task endures
To morning’s edge; the iron-road mare
Surfs breaking day to the Danish bridge.
The train is met by the tricky old fox
Trond, eld-fighter, and travellers two,
New companions for the purposed quest.

[corncobman]

Pg 105

Tending The Patch, Hellos To Match

Out of the leafy glade,
Continuing on the horizon.
After some distance made,
Houses they laid eyes upon.

A man with shearing blades,
Tending to the bushy patch.
"Visitors, hello," he bade.
"...Hello?" replies the cat.

--------------------------------------------

Pg 106

In Norwegian Commander, He Understands Her

Does he have a brother elder,
A similar looking fellow?
The aforesaid he beheld there,
Stopping by some time ago.

"When?" he asks, "Where did he go?"
It's been any number of weeks.
But the man, he remembers, so
Departing towards to the east.

They didn't exchange many terms,
Thus he couldn't tell him why.
So, is he some crazy hermit?
Sigrun asks, in Norwegian, on the sly.

Is this a mad guy obsessing
With tidying this garden?
He just works here, embarrassing.
He speaks Norse, begging his pardon.

-------------------------------

Pg 107

The Polyglot Keeps The Plot

It is a strange place indeed,
For a working multi-linguist.
He's a warden, tending weeds,
A gravekeeper culturalist.

This island will be settled
One future day once again.
He makes sure it's not bedevilled,
Or he brings a crew along to cleanse.

His colleagues do the same
For the other islands immediate.
So likely settlers can reclaim
The land when it's convenient.

All settlements were lost
In this area a decade ago.
The details of it he glossed,
But it wasn't a troll attack he knows.

Defence protocols have been updated,
So further outbreaks won't reoccur.
It's on a need-to-know basis,
Visitors aren't included, sure.

-----------------------------------

Pg 108

Line Of Gravestones, Why'd He Go On Alone?

By the gravestones they wind,
Of Finns long departed.
Lalli's family line,
In order they're charted.

One in particular stands out,
Of Tuuri Hotakainen.
Onni brought it here, no doubt,
A memorial for her then.

So why did he continue
On eastward, there's nothing there.
What now, the unlucky few,
Do they continue this affair?

[corncobman]

Pg 109

Fatter And Shorter, Body Distorted

They'll spend the night there,
Stopping all activities.
So Lalli don't you dare,
Go on your hunting proclivities.

A frustrated figure cut,
As they roast their caught fish.
Till night has eyes shut,
He won't yet get his wish.

The Swede enters a bubbly,
Familiar atmosphere.
Shifting, wibbly-wobbly,
In a dream forest appears.

Something's the matter,
Metaphysically not right.
Somehow a bit fatter,
Somewhat lacking in height...

-------------------------------

Pg 110

Short And Weighty, Sort Of Hatey

Looking quite bothered,
Both glance at his peer.
Asking each other,
How? Where is here?

This consciousness feed,
Proportions contort.
Why is the Swede
In the dream here so short?

He's a kid to the core,
Vertically challenged and fat.
Hasn't been here before,
What a nightmare is that!

Conversation truncated,
The cat stares, eyebrows angled.
It just got more complicated,
If looks could strangle...

[corncobman]

Pg 111

Stout and Pudge (based on Out of Touch by Daryl Hall and John Oates)

Shaken up, with room to grow
Changing our bodies up just like so
I'm waking up to fantasy
The dream's all around like a nightmare I used to be
No joke, I'm in hell in the sun
It's mentally bogus, it's gotten me once again
On soil unknown
Control really matters to me
Take a look around

All stout and pudge
I'm lacking height
But I'm only a kid
And I'm short an' round
All stout and pudge
I'm lacking height
But I'm only a kid
And I'm short an' round

Reaching out for someone to scold
Looking like a dumb and only I get trolled
Panic moods and lousy dreams
Or slipping in a puddle between the changing scenes
Broken up, it's all too much
Out of town, you see, looking full of fudge, yeah
On soil unknown
Control really matters to me
Too much

All stout and pudge
I'm lacking height
But I'm only a kid
And I'm short an' round
All stout and pudge
I'm lacking height
But I'm only a kid
And I'm short an' round

(Short and pudge, short of height)

All stout and pudge
I'm lacking height
But I'm only a kid
And I'm short an' round
All stout and pudge
I'm lacking height
But I'm only a kid
And I'm short an' round

------------------------------

Hairs Raised, Their Place

The dream team kids will
Follow the adults Finnish.
Upwards onto the hills,
With cats that are skittish.

Face-masks the men donned,
With rifles in hand.
On the black path beyond,
To the ravenous land...

[wavewright62]

You're a star, corncobman!  (Although I get the feeling you're kind of picking on poor Emil here.  For that matter, so is Minna, I guess.)

[corncobman]

Pg 112

Fine, Defeated, Grandma Greeted

Don't be mad, Lalli,
He didn't on purpose.
Doesn't know how he
Even got in this circus.

One looking sheepish,
One grinning like mad.
They can stay if they wish,
Lost all resistance he had.

Fine, in no mood to attack,
That's his grandma, he lets slip.
They've just come back
From their fall scouting trip.

The bags he's to secure,
As the adults get to chatting.
Physical contact to endure,
Much dreaded head-patting.

[corncobman]

Pg 113

Absent-minded, Semi-Invited

The adults of old,
Can't see us kids, huh?
Winter clearing done, all told,
Nothing nearby hidden, yup.

They indeed crossed paths
With Hilja a week ago.
Absent-minded is Hilja,
And her recognition's slow.

After her name's called,
Like a stranger not known.
It's not her fault, the
Light's on but no-one's home.

On them all, eventually,
Old age takes its toll.
But her magic, potentially,
Can still play its role.

Lalli inquires if they are
Coming along for the ride.
They can understand greater
The past life of the guide.

[Adge]

It's the first of a new month, and so far I'm on schedule. But I'm getting slower and slower as I approach Chapter Fifteen.

Chapter 4

From Swedish woods and Suomi’s lakes
Tuuri skald-maid, scout-cousin dour
Clear-eyed Lalli, cleanser Emil,
By three federates through fearful ways
Conducted safe to the Danish-built
Sea-bridge wardstead. There waits the fourth
Of their trip's planners, Trond fox-wily,
With the final pair: fierce-heart Sigrun
From deep Norway’s undaunted halls
Their fell captain; and cook Mikkel
Sturdy, massive, many-crafted wight
From Bornholm farms. Babbling Tuuri,
Eager skald-maid, skirls at their height,
Pleasing the two. But their replies miss
Doubtful Emil; the Danish speech
No sweetness has to Swedish ears
Or to frommed-tongued friendless Lalli
Who silence keeps in the social mix
Of greetings misheard and ungrasped words.
Uncomprehending, captain Sigrun
The lay questions; can she lead a crew
Without one tongue? So Tuuri skald,
Grasping all speech, spells to the group
That language bars must let them not
From their common task. Their captain Eide,
Fierce-hand Sigrun, her folk courages,
Declares confidence with clapped shoulder
From a swiping hand that Suomi-bred
Lalli far-homed, lone-working scout,
Treats as uncouth; comrade Emil
Minds their trouncing the train-ettin’s shock;
Guide and cleanser, together now
Fray-sealed comrades; friendship asserts
With a cordial fist – furious, Lalli
Shuns his gesture as the shield-house lord,
Loud-voiced admiral, Olsen the Dane,
Deplores the waste of the water-fort
To civilians lent since invasion failed
Land to reconquer. Loud he shows them
The field-crawler, cramped and ancient
Trundling cat-tank, their transport, wain,
Homestead, shield-wall, shelter and castle
In the Silent Lands. Sad-hearted Tuuri
Hurts that it's tiny. Haughty Emil
Broods on a mirror, which breaks and falls.
For shame he affirms the fault to be old;
His point to show picks up the glass
And with careless force casts it aside –
An unguided throw over guard and rail
To the lower deck, to the loading bay
Where a worker sorts and signs for lade
The required goods to equip the team.
The mirror-struck wight mixes the tags –
Undetected fault. Tuuri fordoes
Her one keepsake; her kin's picture
Cracks at the threshold, across Tuuri –
Lalli and Onni left undamaged –
Wakens Tuuri, wend-maid eager,
To her cherished home, childhood's refuge,
Keuruu mere-fort. She admits to her kin,
Noita Lalli, her need for speech
With her mage brother in the mere-girt lands,
Hiraeth to quell. Healer Mikkel
Sees Emil’s face the first time clear
Notices the bruise from the night fray,
Offering treatment; Emil, haughty,
Swede-tongued, doubting, Danish mishears
As unprovoked slurs. While divided they stare
The rest explore the road-plodder
And stow provisions. They stand ready,
Tender farewells; wain-taught Tuuri
Cedes the driving to Sigrun earl,
But the spear-maid spills hoarding-stacks,
Misses the roadways, demolishes walls;
So she returns the seat. Tuuri hand-skald,
Steers the cat-tank on the stark sky-road
To the Silent Lands and their long purpose.
The crossing gives time for the crew to share
Their past stories and to state their skills;
Sigrun main-handed, most best warrior,
Hall-earl’s daughter, dived at the chance
To fight new marks; Mikkel erst-long
Fought in Dane-war, farm-travail bored –
But the rotting bridge interrupts the tales
As Tuuri eludes the collapsing piers
And crunched car-way; the crumbled deck
And flailing guys their gear threaten
Till asylum found at the sunken reach
Of the drowned tunnel. Dreams the sleeping
Lalli scout-mage lead to the flet
Of his woning-stead, willow-girt raft-home
In the mage-kingry. His cousin seeking,
Onni ward-mage, he walks the board-path,
To the stone-arched way, the water’s gate
Through the rock barrier, and reaches the shore
Of the wide cloud-mere, where wise under stars
Seidhkona and noita know in the silence
The call of friend and the catch of foe.
With his voice’s main he invokes Onni
Over the mage-sea. No message replies
Over bubbling deep, but a bird fluttering,
Wide-faring tern, his attention draws
To a red-braided wight, running the strand
Fearless, unwitting. Wise-hearted scout
Lalli calls him, but catches unware,
Summoning foes from the seal’s highway,
From the horde-deep hands to gulf him
In the trolls’ lich-sea. Lalli, untrounced
By the mer-vermin, his voice’s power
Unleashes, shends the shuck-born horde,
Shoots through the waves to the shore’s welcome
And dances for joy. At the door homeward
To his woning-stead he stirs in sleep
So Emil friend, with anxious hand,
Gentles Lalli, as the lapping waves
Tell of the end of the tunnel-road
At the last defence, where the lost Danes
Of Kastrup's fall are carved by name
On the sad gate-wings. Sigrun, eager
To tread under foot the troll domain
And defy her foes, forces her rank
On leer Mikkel, demanding the gate
Be opened wide ere evening's gloom
Forbids their sight. Banks of concrete
Clad in tangle climbing allow
To first long view of infested streets;
The way forward to fame and gold –
Or doomed lich-life. But darkling shades
Let the trail-fellows from the troll-haunted
Kastrup's sad field, so the comrades return
To the warm cat-tank. Canny night-gang
Scout-mage Lalli through skald Tuuri
At Sigrun's word is sent to find
A cunning road and secure refuge
For their first seeking in the Silent Lands.

[Róisín]

Wow! Adge, you are making an excellent job of this! 'Let' in its original usage, as in 'without or let, pause or stay'. Nice to see in this context words used with their old meaning. Is 'Captain Eide' what you meant in line 25, or have I missed something about the silver orfe? 'Train-ettin' is a wonderful word-coining, and one I can see happening in the Scandinavian languages, from which, I believe, 'ettin' came originally into English?

I like that you included the scene with the foreshadowing of the picture with the crack across poor Tuuri. And 'hiraeth', a loan-word into English from older Welsh for which I have never found a precise equivalent in English. I have heard my Welsh cousin use it in context, and it was heartbreaking. And 'flet' in its old usage of platform, bier or raft, a word which most moderns would not have heard outside Tolkien! And 'lich-sea' - how fitting! And 'doomed lich-life'!

All honour to your noble word-hoard.

[Adge]

Thank you! No, line 25 was a misprint - I have corrected it - but I missed it because there is a perfectly good word 'ide' meaning a woman of noble birth with authority of some form. I will be using it later, but only for the priest in Reynir's aisling. My word-hoard is a bit off-piste; my father's birth dialect was 'Lancashire' (though he had it beaten out of him at school) and there is quite a considerable literature in that dialect which he always enjoyed, and passed that love on to me. His dialect was close enough to Middle English that he could read Chaucer without any difficulty, and that too I picked up on. Then living in a 'Scouse' dialect area, and having bilingual (Cymraeg-English, Irish-English, Yiddish-English) friends at school, my vocabulary is now almost as messy as my desk. 'Flet' though is a builder's word for a temporary platform made from loose planks, and 'let from' came from my early acquaintance with the 'Authorised Version' of the Bible. I wouldn't be surprised if 'ettin' is Scandinavian; Sir Gawain meets ettins, along with bulls, bears and boars, in the Wirral near Liverpool, (where I believe they are now extinct,) and that was written in walking distance of the house I grew up in, so well within the Danelaw.

[corncobman]

Pg 114

Village Friends 'Ere, The Forest Defenders

Is this a memory?
Of Lalli's real past?
"I think so" says he,
With disinterest cast.

He doesn't normally
Have these weird dreams.
Are the people his family?
Just the village hunting team.

Troll hunters and scouts,
That're dear grandma's pals.
For almost two months out,
Cleaning the forests local.

An occurrence yearly
He says, meanwhile,
A building seen clearly,
That's the quarantine isle.

----------------------------

Pg 115

No Expert Knowledge, Didn't He Just Go To College?

Two weeks to tick off,
The confined charted date.
The surly Swede gives off,
Dreaming while they wait?

Are they all in the cooler
For this dream isolation?
Didn't he just go to school for
This garbage in education?

As if they're in sync,
The weather and time alter.
The physical body blinks,
The cat stares without falter.

[corncobman]

Pg 116

No Time Complaints, Town Cosy And Quaint

The time was quickly killed,
A surprise 'twas to behold.
Why's he standing around still?
Pack his things, he was told.

Away from the lone hut,
From the boats onto the pier.
So they can look at that,
The home town of the seer.

One of them says "It's cosy."
The cat agrees with you.
With tinted glasses rosy,
They share a moment or two.

[corncobman]

Pg 117

Sighted Capricious, Mighty Suspicious

Senses of the boy mage,
Triggering a fit.
The bundle he's gauged,
A weird feeling about it.

The little scout meek,
He pipes up to the elder.
Grandma's aid he seeks,
To stop that bag held there.

She calls out to Hilja,
To hold on momentary.
From the woman bewildered,
That package they be wary.

[corncobman]

Pg 118

Look Her In The Eyes, Inspection Denied

That's an interesting
Looking package she's got.
Would she mind sharing
What's inside it, or not?

Look her in the eyes,
It's just a package, okay?
Okay, Ensi replies,
Letting Hilja slip away.

The little young mage,
Notices something amiss.
But at this late stage
Can do naught but reminisce.

---------------------------------------

Pg 119

Icelander - He Wants To See Young Onni

Indeed it's horrendous news,
Her children just left.
Ensi just looks amused at
The company she kept.

Shoo, off and do something,
Then Lalli is dismissed.
Reynir is there jumping
To see young Onni, he insists.

Over there, helping harvest,
On smelly sheep and farm island.
Quarantine to be started,
It's a few weeks 'til they're at hand.

Can't he just blink again?
And be skipping past straight?
He could do that but then
The young scout mage wants to wait.

---------------------------------------

Pg 120

Joy Raised, Acting Amazed

Look at things, just,
For a little bit, at least.
"Show the place to us"
Enthusiasm increased.

He reluctantly says "suuure..."
"That's a well over there."
Continuing his tour,
Happiness is laid bare.

He lives on this street,
It's his mom and dad's house.
Grandma has to come see
Him, when his parents go out.

That place is grandma's,
A house with garden.
She even has a sauna,
With the trees as a curtain.

---------------------------------

Pg 121

Cat With Pride, Chatty Tour Guide

His memory sparked,
The buildings show.
Passing remarks,
Pointing as they go.

That's the school,
For two years went.
An old boat, cool,
Ancestors' lives spent.

Cousins of the scout,
Live within those doors.
He goes on to spout,
Like never before.

Hilja, Grandma's friend,
On a lonely stage.
At that bridge's end,
And she's a mage.

Cat scratching tree.
They eat and drink,
At the town centre, he
Can proceed to blink.

------------------------------

Pg 122

There She Is! On Ignore List...

A week had passed,
A baker sale in town.
A missing cast,
There she could be found!

Ensi calls her name,
Bids her sit and eat.
Ignores her all the same,
Refusing the group to meet.

------------------------------

Pg 123

Memory Holed, Calling Cold

The whole time she missed,
Has she been holed in?
She's been busy, she insists,
Tending to the garden.

She couldn't spare a mo,
To eat with her old mates?
She exhales a mighty blow,
As the questions don't abate.

Ensi asks, help she can provide,
But declined, she cannot trust.
The garden is her joy and pride,
And tend to it alone she must.

When the harvest party's there,
She'll see them then she says.
But they never saw hide nor hair,
After nearly fourteen days.

------------------------------------

Pg 124

Hugging And Kissing, Memory Missing

How's the little bunny doing?
As the pair there smirk and grin.
Lalli stands there, stewing,
Suffering at the hands of kin.

Onni and Tuuri left behind?
They'll hand back and unload.
Rowing back and unpacking assigned,
Then the two of them will show.

The lady's mother not sound of mind,
"She would never!" she protests.
To fetch her, the man designs,
The absent aforementioned guest.

----------------------------------------

Pg 125

Memory Cursed, He Must Converse

Forgetful is her mother,
How sad it is to be.
Not the only one to suffer,
They'll grow old eventually.

Speaking of being aged,
When does Ensi retire?
When she's got a ready mage,
And joined the invisible choir.

She shoos the babby cat,
To get his cousins late.
On her shoulder, grumpy taps,
With a purpose, soon to state.

---------------------------------

Pg 126

Remember, Buh? What's Up With Hilja?

It's time for the annual,
Weapons inspection.
It's routine, you recall?
She has the recollection.

Seems she's not alone,
In forgetting their routine.
Others forgot too, based on tone,
Their weapons to be screened.

What the devil is the matter?
He made it to Hilja's place...
Just look at the cats, there
Is fury on their face.

--------------------------------------

Pg 127

You Know Protocol, What's Within The Walls?

At the sign of the hiss,
To cupboard, face-masks packed.
They know what protocol is.
With haste they're all to act.

With the apparatus donned,
Along the path narrow.
To the house they bear on,
Like freshly loose-d arrows.

The adults armed to the nines,
And with alarm-ed cat pack.
To the rustic hut outlined,
With three children at the back.

-----------------------------------------

Pg 128

Open With A Creak, A Friend They Seek

Knock on the door,
Open it with a creak.
Ensi first to explore,
Cats ahead, in for a peek.

On the dimly lit floor,
Shadows everywhere streak.
Jars and bottles there stored,
Like a curious boutique.

[corncobman]

Pg 129

Unpacked The Furs, Smashing Figure

Candles melted,
Light that's snuffed.
The felines felt it,
Sinister and stuffed.

Cords there dangled,
Skin furs unweaved.
What is entangled
Within hidden sleeves?

That package remembered,
For whatever reason,
She never ventured
To inspect to completion.

That guy by the fingertips,
Picked up the fur skins.
The thing he simply rips
With heavy violence.