Digital drawing, Mythology, Norsk, poetry

Pwm 2a.k1

At the mouth of that wretched cave,

she waits.

at the boulder where she gives none but all her daily love for him.

At times,

they speak of silence. . .

they speak of good times. . .

at the memories of golden days. . .

at the bitter taste of what she could have done or not.

Yet in his defense, he wanted none but all of them were stiff

as Tyr’s metal hand.

as Heimdall’s bluntness of his face.

In spite of it all,

this was no way to live.

He catapulted into a mind of atrocities.

His mind working so he can make that which will make all of them fall.

What twilight of days can amount to single word.


For all of them.

Yes ahh. . .

the poison is not working anymore,

In his head, the poison is there.



®artsydhude 7-18


Digital drawing, Greco Romano, Mythology, poetry

NmV 0A:@4

Have I been cast aside,

into a boulder I did hide.

Can someone feed me lies,

Where they were or are of my paternal sight.

I keep praying , I keep it real as I cry.

A man’s name gave me strife at daylight,

My father told me straight,

Don’t you lie and tell me,

 “Nobody was here.”

Still I cry, 

not as a monster

not as a titan,

no one but a big fat,






Digital drawing, Greco Romano, Mythology, poetry

The choice. T

To the south beam, a headline spelled H.A.D.E.S with a strikethrough in the middle, and corrected a greek name under the headline:


With a glance of the last letter lingering and wavering,

the depths of my soul shivered and a breeze of anti-freeze,

A negative temperature of the coldest Freon I can remember.

 I can sense and see a woman up around the bend.

With a gesture to behold,


Come Hither,

come near,

I myself will be your eye,

I myself will be the guide.

Dante would not come to you,

Virgil and Canto will not dare come near me.

Don’t be afraid,

My love.

I am here for you to know Tartarus

is a place of champions,

not of those who think otherwise.

As I am fixed on her words,

A face of old came,

From Bone to flesh,

Dipped from Styx,

This time Charon would have loved to come along.

He bowed,

As he knew this time,

That loneliness is with me,

Yet she is of 

To all things gathered,

In the magick of the heart.

There she stood,

My heart in volcanic vitals,

My flesh frozen in fear,

My mind devoid,

My soul ablazed in pure euphoric sense.

Only a god of old can surmise,

Only a god of old can take,

Only a god of old can hold.

There Hecate knew,

Were I one of them,

Nonetheless she gave me a full blown kiss.

And asked.

 “Would you like to stay,

Would you be here in a fallen state,

All that once can not be broken,

All that once shatters at a single mishap of your emotions,

Once a love can only be pure,

Once a love likened to have so much demure,

You can,

All control,

And none of it all,

is yours.

One rule,

You must submit to the demi here,

You must submit not to me,

Only Kronos can make you


or be a peon for his amusement.”

 as my head wavered,


and all sensations normalized,

all vitals neutralized,

Hecate took my body and laid me as she

would be a mother lovingly.

The last I saw,

and heard.

 My love, I see you are fit,

But I need you to tell them,

All these.

I love you,

I think you would have been a good demi here,


I love you my love.

See you in my dreams.




®artsydhude 07-18


Digital drawing, Life, Mythology, Norsk, poetry

The choice. V

The north pace I try.

The tears is its own weapon.

As it drops it is an icicle bearing all my years.

A sight on my eye colors of that boreal breathe upon my face.

Leaves every doubt, remorse and my devilry mucus shows up in my face.

My foot has numbed to its core.

Making this hobbit of a feet into a mid sized troll of 15 inch length and width.

As for my face all of my vein became blue to its core.

A life struck me,

where a viking  mistakenly took me as a horrid troll.

I lie in wait,

My mind was on a memory,

But a thought struck me with a palm sized,

Mjolnir broke and shattered all of me.

In one glance,

With no utterance of discrimination,

With no winded justification of prejudice.


Took my lifeless body and asked a simple one.

 “Do you yield?”

 A nod is all I can do.

In a leap of her kiss unto me.

We came into that hall,

Where no one is left behind,

All for one,

One for all.

Not in Aesir’s victory.

Nor Vanir’s way.

Not even all of Ymir’s wisdom.

Yes hereI shall stay,

where everyone fights and keeps the love of life:

Of mead and light to

which life happens for 

the sake of one’s cause,

to love not yourself, 

but the ones you hold and protect.





Digital drawing, Drawing/Sketch, Mythology, Norsk, poetry

NsVs i.49

Am i bounded to myself,

or have I handed my earnings to that shriveled old shrunken head,

if I only knew that tarnhelm would lead me into all this.

Just for the sake of meeting one so pure of lusted eyes,

And to meet her freckled beauty.


I am now a property of one smaug of a lizard,

Now in this dankness,

And left me to become a shriveled shrunked head,

working without pay,

only grub to eat and rest my water.

To become a slave to the slaughter,

A worker of Fafner.

I know there is someone out there,

One day will slay,



©artsydhude 2008-2018


Digital drawing, Greco Romano, Mythology, Portraits

An open letter to Lady Demeter,

Mighty huntress, I am missing your shine as of late. 

For I am devoid of your nights subtle winds. And of your hours on end. I am still born to believe in your own field, that I need your shine on me on an empty sky filled with all the glory of constellations near and far beside you.

I am asking nothing, this letter is not for me. Yet I am no ambassador of all humanity, it is an open gesture from me to see your Mother Gaea, to be healed so my daughter can grow to love what nature can offer. She saw you on a night, I know in some delight you saw her smile.

I implore you my lady Demeter, please help humans to see their old majestic and ancient respect for you. To know not of escape and tend to your magnetic love of your mother.