[0_0] is composed in Old Norse alliterative verse, not rhyme or syllable-counted meter. Its rhythm comes from stress patterns and alliteration (repeated initial consonant or vowel sounds) linking half-lines together. There are three main meters used across the collection:
Fornyrðislag (“old story meter”)
The most common meter, used for narrative poems. Each line has two half-lines of two stressed syllables each, linked by alliteration. It’s the plainest and most epic-sounding of the three, used in poems like Völuspá (in parts) and much of the heroic material.
Ljóðaháttr (“song meter” or “chant meter”)
Used for gnomic, dialogue-heavy, and wisdom poems — most famously Hávamál. It alternates two-stress alliterative half-lines with a full third line that has three stresses and its own internal alliteration, giving it a more incantatory, uneven rhythm. It feels almost like call-and-response.
Málaháttr (“speech meter”)
A variant of fornyrðislag with an extra unstressed syllable per half-line, giving it a slightly more relaxed, conversational cadence. Less common, found in poems like Atlamál.
The underlying unit in all three is the stress, not the syllable — so unlike, say, iambic pentameter, you’re counting beats of emphasis, and alliteration (not rhyme) is the glue holding each line together.
^-.-^ That’s probably why I wrote the limerick instead. Hm..
The postcard, Local Flavor. My son had a college project building a web blog. He asked for Gaming Related Content Contributors. I made banners and wrote articles about my banners. I was still a bit fragmented when it came to writing back then. The hard part for me was #1 so much outmoded tech, [It’s like having the floor fall out from under you once you finally got used to trusting it(again and again and again.)]
#2 production schedule.
Drawing a blank.
It was a problem for a long time.
Staring at the fresh sheet of paper/newly opened doc.
Visually it’s there. I just didn’t have the Words.
Inner Critic? Yeah I had a few.
AND
Outer Critic,
orbiting, loitering in the doorway, suddenly Needing my attention, has to “check on me,” reading over my shoulder, reaching over and squishing me to take over the mouse.
Almost a decade later >> The last guy I was with… when he tried the same maneuver. I was 15 feet away, before he repositioned the pointer on screen (so focused on his objective) he didn’t realize I had moved. Full body trembling, trying to manage my nervous system. T-t-t-trigerred.
The perception argument:
The intent argument:
The ACTUAL evidence:
Last post is linked to my hammer post. Which had my most recent (at that time) map video Smite Hollow attached at the end.
Full Body trembling, trying to manage my nervous system, Pushing to meet the deadline. The worst video I’ve taken. There were no pans or zooms without trembling.
Yep real things happening in real life in real time.
Last year.
During the time I was trying to “make content,” (a decade or so ago) my eldest tox-sis dropped off a box of things our mother decided to get “let go of” >> all related to me or their memories associated with me.
This newspaper section, preserved in the plastic newspaper bag of its delivery along with two notes I took during the class described in the article.
Not a scrapbook page that exhibited the accomplishment like the important two got, for every award and recognition.
My poem was published.
This was a crisis for my mother.
She demanded the Proof.
I gave her what I had.
I had to turn in most of it and some were kept by the poetry teacher.
My mother argued that my rough drafts didn’t match the published and concluded
>>The poetry teacher wrote it for me.
>>That was cheating.
>>Did you catch all those spelling errors?
>>She copied somebody.
My mother wrote an Edda.
A poetic edda.
My notes the coffee coaster for her spontaneous and absolutely necessary all consuming Creative Work.
It got published!
Under my brother’s name in his high school poetry magazine.
– A treasured artifact as it included my eldest tox-sister’s artwork too!
Lets transcribe my notes:
Shadows
Shadows are secrets
hidden in the darkness
in which evil may strike
with in the caves
sorrow clings
caused by the shadow of evil
By Charlene
All caps, because it was taught in all caps.
Her edits in which to “where,” spelling error, caused by suggested “to,” and the redundant evil suggested “like a ghost.” Note I think this will be more effective, Great Please make me a copy
And the puppy tail… reminding me of the prompt. Darkest Memories. Snips and snails and puppy dog tails … a much darker story for another time.
I worked out that the poetry teacher was uncomfortable with the word Evil, or the redundancy of it, I found another word witchcraft.
Silence
Thoughts are the deepness of your mind
Light is the brightness of your heart (mispelled)
Memories are to the delicate softness of the wind to the roughness or the rapid rain.
Time is the fingers of mist of the past to the present to the wonder’s future (mispelled)
Not a poem >> Lesson notes.
Evidence of my mother’s twisted fixations.
She was re-claiming the title of Poet
from the thief
and bestowing it on
the proper heirs
of her talent.
At that magical Harry Potter age of 11,
>> when kids get to find out what they have the potential to be when they grow up.
Not a poet. It’s not for me.
Slot issue again.
My Part. What I DID >>> to instigate all the drama?
I showed up at school. Took notes and turned in my work.
Traveler Chimiru 
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