A Dozen Steps Through Hel
Page 1
A Dozen Steps
Through Hel
By
John J. Beach
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Published By
A Dozen Steps
Through Hel
Copyright © 2012 by John J. Beach
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License Notes:
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Contents
Introduction
1. The Hel-skór Linden
2. The Waters Before Gjallarbrú
3. The Deficiency Beneath The Precious
4. Happened, Happening, Ought To Be
5. The Aurochs Horn Forged In Gold
6. Wells Within Us
7. Son and Sacrifice
8. Hoddmimir’s Holt
9. Heimdallr Ponders Mothers Day
10. The Mouth Before the Nine Caves
11. Bilröst
12. The Hall Beyond Glasir
About the Author
Introduction
The terzanelle is a poetic form that combines elements from the terza rima and the villanelle. Terza is italian for one third (of three equal parts), while rima means rhyme. Each stanza of a terza-rima poem contains three lines—often ten syllables each—and the poetic structure uses an end-rhyming pattern: ABA, BCB, CDC, and so on. A terza rima poem consists of any number of these interlocking tercets, but it usually concludes with a couplet (or a single line) rhyming with the second line of the last tercet. The subject matter can be about anything, but anecdotes or descriptive portraits are popular.
The villanelle began life as a loose, ballad-like song in France. As it matured, the villanelle gained more formal structure: five tercets and a concluding quatrain. It uses the end-line rhyming structure of A1bA2, abA1, abA2, abA1, abA2, abA1A2. The A1 and A2 lines appear four times each, end-rhyme with each other and with four other a lines. In between are five rhyming b lines, which end-rhyme only with themselves. Due to the regular repetition of lines, a villanelle tends to showcase obsessions.
The terzanelle combines the interlocking transitional mechanism of the terza rima with the obsessive, yet not-as-obsessive nature of the villanelle. It features five tercets and one concluding quatrain, 19 ten-syllable lines (ideally using iambic pentameter), and only four of the poem’s lines do not repeat. However, since no single line is echoed more than once, the poet has some increased flexibility over using the villanelle. A terzanelle often uses the end-line rhyming structure of A1BA2, bCB, cDC, dED, eFE, and fA1FA2.
The twelve terzanelle poems in A Dozen Steps through Hel are based upon Norse myths and folklore, specifically those regarding the afterlife in Hel (which was considered a lush, if somewhat boring paradise for those people who had led good lives). Fallen warriors and princes, however, merely passed through Hel on their way to Valhalla, while those who had led wicked or unproductive lives were condemned to second death (and eternal suffering). Those thus doomed had to witness paradise firsthand so that they could see what their evil lives had cost them. My thanks to Viktor Rydberg whose work from the late 1800s I wish I had discovered three decades earlier. However, it’s also good that I didn’t and was able to reach many of the same thoughts independently.
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1. The Hel-skór Linden
We hope to see compassion on display,
the truthful garments of the inner form.
At the beginning of the thorny way,
we’ll gather at the gate, a growing storm
set to depart along the common path.
The truthful garments of the inner form,
our soul possessions, represent the math
of life, and always it’s flimsy to those
set to depart. Along the common path,
we’ll lot with a doom prepared to foreclose
based upon who’s stood with us at the end
of life (and always). It’s flimsy to those
who rely just on the gift of a friend
dangling there from the tree extending
based upon who’s stood with us. At the end,
as the gate yawns to dark dales descending,
we hope to see compassion on display
dangling there from the tree extending
at the beginning of the thorny way.
2. The Waters Before Gjallarbrú
Beyond the wasteland of elk-sedge and heath,
the departed reach a river rushing
venom cold with edged iron underneath.
It mangles the merciless, blood gushing
from wounds equal to those we’ve inflicted.
The departed reach a river rushing
in search of the floating planks predicted
to convey safe passage. But all must bleed
from wounds equal to those we’ve inflicted
while living. Only then may we proceed
upon a fourteen-foot board, which steadies
to convey safe passage. But all must bleed
enough as we wade through bladed eddies.
Anguish measures our own validity
upon a fourteen-foot board, which steadies
us for judgment of our morbidity.
Beyond the wasteland of elk-sedge and heath,
anguish measures our own validity
venom cold with edged iron underneath.
3. The Deficiency Beneath The Precious
This covered bridge reflects our golden mean:
the divine ride over darker forces
as dawn lights life upon meadows in green,
it resounds the footfalls of proud horses,
challenges us, spans beyond our belief.
The divine ride over. Darker forces
are waiting, wanting untrimmed nails and grief
they can sail when the twilight of the gods
challenges us, spans beyond our belief
we cannot be strong. Instinct is at odds
with our conscience. A fear blows through our lungs
they can sail. When the twilight of the gods
encroaches, our mouths are cold with stiff tongues
unable to voice for ourselves. We wait
with our conscience. A fear blows through our lungs.
As we’re passing beneath each gilded plate,
this covered bridge reflects our golden mean.
Unable to voice for ourselves, we wait
as dawn lights life upon meadows in green.
4. Happened, Happening, Ought To Be
The road forks from our birth toward mysteries
woven into roots as time unravels.
A man’s shadow holds fast his histories
until that shade is measured. Our travels
will end here within a circle of stones
woven into roots. As time unravels,
the benches populate before the thrones.
When final judgment is pronounced, mankind
will end here. Within a circle of stones,
our life’s attorney speaks her mind—our mind
she has followed, and, as psychopomp, serves
when final judgment is pronounced. Mankind
best listen to this vestige. She preserves,
where we illuminate the future. While
she has followed, and, as psychopomp, serves
as guide, she’s also our innermost smile.
The road forks from our birth toward mysteries
where we illuminate the future, while
a man’s shadow holds fast his histories.
5. The Aurochs Horn Forged In Gold
The doomed swallow poisonous rescission
of spirit and image, and leave their soul
draining. The horn with serpent’s incision
harbors the d
rink of strengths, which may console
the mind from sorrow, gain an uplifting
of spirit and image, and leave the soul
able to sing. The doomed will sink, drifting
to Niflhel where they cannot divorce
the mind from sorrow, gain an uplifting
pause, nor feel anything that is not coarse.
They’ll parade through paradise in the sun
to Niflhel where they cannot divorce
their appearance from the wrongs they have done.
Yet those judged for bliss will be united.
They’ll parade through paradise in the sun,
bathe in cool sea, be always delighted.
The doomed swallow poisonous rescission,
yet those judged for bliss will be united
draining the horn with serpent’s incision.
6. Wells Within Us
Bubbling cauldron, cold breath of the ghost,
mingles with soul, conciliation’s Son.
The Wyrd is blood, blooming hue for the host,
a pool of consequence from actions spun.
The intuitive know truth of the self
mingles with soul. Conciliation’s Son
accepts a body of teaching yourself
control, an emotional acceptance
the intuitive know truth. Of the self,
our fair complexion reflects song and dance,
a creator’s appetite. Our desires
control an emotional acceptance
tempered by intellectual fires.
Shivering within, our poetry knows
a creator’s appetite. Our desires
are the mill of the world, whose walls enclose
bubbling cauldron. Cold breath of the ghost,
shivering within our poetry, knows
the Wyrd is blood, blooming hue for the host.
7. Son and Sacrifice
Monsoons of magma meet the rimy sea.
Howling, whining, tearing free from the womb,
this