Off and on over the last few years, I've posted book reviews and book related posts on various blogs. They have always been mixed in with my other posts, just as my poetry often was. A little over a year ago, I moved my poetry posting to Muninn's Laughter, to have it all in one place. I've now done so with my esoteric book related posts as well. I have imported the posts I have of that nature from both Blogger and LiveJournal, and plan to post more reviews and book related posts in the future. The new blog is Tomes of Lore, Grimoires of Wisdom.
For reference, here are my blogs and webpages:
Across the Abyss (General):
http://muninnskiss.grimr.org (Blogger)
http://muninnskiss.wordpress.com (WordPress - Mirror of Blogger)
http://muninnskiss.livejournal.com (LiveJournal - Try to post everything here)
http://muninnskiss.tumblr.com (Tumblr - Miscellaneous)
http://tradwitch.com/component/option,com_myblog/blogger,muninnskiss/Itemid,38/ (Blog on The Traditionalist Witches Companion)
Muninns's Laughter ( Esoteric Poetry):
http://muninnslaughter.grimr.org (Blogger)
http://muninnslaughter.wordpress.com (WordPress - Mirror of Blogger)
http://muninnslaughter.tumblr.com (Tumblr - Mirror of Blogger)
http://hellopoetry.com/-muninns-kiss/ (Hello Poetry - Mirror of Blogger)
Tomes of Lore, Grimoires of Wisdom (Esoteric Books):
http://tomesoflore.grimr.org (Blogger)
http://grimoiresofwisdom.wordpress.com (WordPress - Mirror of Blogger)
Social:
http://www.facebook.com/muninnskiss (Facebook)
http://twitter.com/muninnskiss (Twitter)
Grimr:
http://www.grimr.org (Homepage)
http://www.facebook.com/Grimr.org (Facebook)
http://www.despoena.org (Home of Arcadian Mysteries)
FFF,
~Muninn's Kiss
Wednesday, 27 June 2012
Sunday, 24 June 2012
The Willow Moon
 |
By Muninn's Kiss
The leaves are coming, slowly budding,
The Aspen catkins are long past gone,
But on each willow branch buds are forming,
Pussy willows stand and face the dawn.
A world reborn, each day grows older,
A thousand branches each reborn,
The willows wait in pools of water,
On banks and marshes, low but full.
The barron winter is long past gone,
New life that started from the thaw,
Each branch, each tip, each growing twig,
The pussy willow cotton has come again.
The Aspen Moon has fled the world,
The Willow full and full of life,
Soon it will go as all moons do,
And the Willow Moon a lost memory.
The Risen Lord and Laughing Queen
 |
A Beltaine Poem
By Muninn's Kiss
The wakened sleeper clothed in gold,
Warmed with Spring and rising sun,
Drapped in green and newborn leaf,
Who once had died but rose again.
Golden scales and raven hair,
Skin of blue and feathers fair,
Who began a journey by candler's flame,
And rose in glory in first leaf's show.
In comes his Bride the fair Corn Maid,
Whose blackened veil now glowing white,
Grass stains on her small bare feet,
And bloodied sword upon her back.
The dancers dance and singers sing,
Risen lord and laughing queen,
The snow has melted and green grows strong,
Winter then Spring give way to sun.
Veil of white over golden hair,
A cotton dress with playful tears,
Small feet dance as if on air,
She laughs in joy at his peacock flair.
Round they spin just like the year,
Celebrating life and new found love,
Love reborn from past the grave,
Youth and Maiden, lust and joy.
The time has come to start again,
A marriage feast and strong bond hands,
New life, new love, all is born,
Eternal love, past Death's cold hand.
Around the pole the ribbons fly,
Dancing round in lustful fun,
In honor to the fair Corn Maid,
And Peacock Lord reborn again.
Saturday, 23 June 2012
Fear
 |
By Muninn's Kiss
Oh, sweet lover,
How I adore you,
Yet how I dread you.
The lose of you,
Would be my death,
I need you more than life.
We dance around,
The dance of life,
You warn and I ignore.
But sometimes dear,
I heed your call,
And that is why I live.
Thursday, 19 April 2012
Of Veils and Movements
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Of Veils and Movements
By Muninn's Kiss
A heart black veil,
Quickly she dances,
First born,
An ancient youth,
Twirling round,
A black veil spining,
Playful dances,
Spinning youth.
A pure white veil,
Now she's walking,
Second born,
But mother of all,
Hand in hand,
Her consort-lover,
Sex and love,
and marriage vows.
A blood red veil,
Now she's standing,
Third born,
And oldest still,
All is done,
But none is finished,
Knife in hand,
The altar bare.
Sunday, 15 April 2012
Reborn from Down Below
 |
By Muninn's Kiss
Two months he swam,
Up through the well,
His scales flashing in the dark.
Twisting, turning,
Swimming, soaring,
Through the Veil of Worlds.
Into the light,
He pokes his head,
Sun flashing of his scales.
Reborn at least,
After Winter's grave,
Reborn from down below.
Two months ago,
He heard the call,
His Bride invoked his name.
And now he rises,
From the grave,
To live and love again.
Heat of sun,
In Spring's cold wind,
Coiled on a rock.
Prepare he does,
For May's fine feast,
And Marriage to his Bride.
Infinite Webs of Fate and Time
 |
By Muninn's Kiss
At the centre of the web the spider sat,
And felt the wind blow by.
Each gust, each gale, rocked her web,
And she sat calmly by.
Each strand went out from where she sat,
She knew where each one went.
One for Fate and two for Time,
And three for everyone.
When each one spoke, when each one sang,
She knew from hence it came.
She listened calmly to the wind,
And listened to each strand.
Those that taught and those that learned,
And those that truly saw.
The web is many strands she knew,
But knew the web was one.
And the expanse of web around,
Began with just one thread.
Friday, 16 March 2012
At the Gates of Dusk
 |
By Muninn's Kiss
I stand alone at the Gates of Dusk,
A fire blazing in the sky.
The trees are shadows, the clouds they glow,
The water reflects the light.
A sun half down but still half up,
Dying but still alive.
A time of change, a liminal time,
A time that is between.
She stand before me and opens the Gates,
The oldest but latest born.
She beacons forward to follow the sun,
Down to its lonely grave.
Alone I stand with only her,
The enticing and love Dusk.
But back I step from that fair breach,
And turn my eyes to home.
Wednesday, 1 February 2012
The Call
 |
By Muninn's Kiss
As the metal hare settles to sleep,
The water dragon stretches and stirs,
The world serpent around the world,
A curled serpent in a cave,
Slowly stirring, his coils spread,
In the underworld he's made his nest,
And waited through the coldest time,
Darkling serpent, shining snake,
His head he raises and starts to move,
Crawling forth on fair Bride's day,
Up the Well of Worlds he comes,
Across the Veil from world to world,
He hears the call of a thousand flames,
Candles lit and fires bright,
The heat, the light, it calls him forth,
Through deepest dark and waters cold,
Up he crawls, reborn from death,
Cthonic darkling, to worlds above,
Ravens dance the dance of death,
And flames the flicker, the spark of life,
The Bride she calls, the serpent comes,
Reborn and new, the strange Horned Child,
And a ring around the moon.
Thursday, 29 December 2011
Her Scars
Her Scars
By Muninn’s Kiss
She is not a spotless virgin
not a flawless bride
not without blemish
not young and in her prime.
Her scars are like canyons cut in her skin
the Grand Canyon
Zion Canyon
the Marianas Trench.
Her skin it ripples with stretch marks
like hills rising and falling
ridges and valleys
from the moment of plates.
In her sickness a fever rages
like wildfires and forest fires
grass fires and oil fires
burning away the sickness bringing new life.
She hasn’t shaved and seldom does
hair standing up on her skin
like trees and bushes and shrubs
uneven all different covering her skin.
Blood and puss bubble up from her skin
blood spewing forth like lava
flowing down the mountains of Hawaii
puss shooting forth like ash covering the land.
She is not spotless not flawless not young
but the scars of her age show her beauty
each scar a work of art adding to her perfection
Would we have the Earth any other way?
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