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<p class="center"><a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Runic_letter_thurisaz.svg"><img src="../img/runes/thurisaz.svg" alt="Thurisaz rune" title="Thurisaz rune"></a></p>
<h1>Thurisaz</h1>
<p>Traditional meaning: giant</p>
<p>Meanings when upright:</p>
<ul>
<li>destruction of illusions and obstacles</li>
<li>ferality / wild hunger with moral ambivalence</li>
<li>creative chaos</li>
<li>stubborn aggressive endurance</li>
<li>proteanism</li>
<li>unskilled brutal person</li>
</ul>
<p>Meanings when inverted:</p>
<ul>
<li>control over one's shifting</li>
<li>protection from going feral</li>
<li>need for a change of situation</li>
<li>self-destructive tendencies</li>
<li>defenselessness/danger</li>
<li>misery in relations with the opposite sex</li>
</ul>
<p>Thurisaz can be useful for:</p>
<ul>
<li>breaking down boundaries</li>
<li>healing in extreme circumstances</li>
<li>bringing hidden issues to light</li>
<li>granting oneself courage</li>
<li>destruction of enemies</li>
<li>awakening of the will to action</li>
</ul>
<hr>
<p>Anglo-Saxon rune poem:</p>
<blockquote>Ðorn byþ ðearle scearp; ðegna gehwylcum<br>anfeng ys yfyl, ungemetum reþe<br>manna gehwelcum, ðe him mid resteð.</blockquote>
<blockquote>The thorn is exceedingly sharp,<br>an evil thing for any knight to touch,<br>uncommonly severe on all who sit among them.</blockquote>
<p>Norwegian rune poem:</p>
<blockquote>Þurs vældr kvinna kvillu;<br>kátr værðr fár af illu.</blockquote>
<blockquote>Giant causes anguish to women;<br>misfortune makes few men cheerful.</blockquote>
<p>A modern poem:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>The only language I seem to understand<br/>
is your fingertips tracing hearts on my hands,<br/>
ragged fingertips, pincers, claws<br/>
held in the thrall<br/>
of forever-now.<br/>
Staring straightly<br/>
blankly<br/>
ahead<br/>
as falls away the thread<br/>
of memories episodic.<br/>
You. I know you.<br/>
I know you're my wife,<br/>
a lover, a friendly face,<br/>
oasis of refuge, unharmful place.<br/>
That I belong to you, somehow.</p>
<p>Wearing anything other than my angelic skin<br/>
shuts off that part of the brain that insists<br/>
I committed<br/>
some heinous crime<br/>
that can never ever ever be forgiven.<br/>
Nay, the crimes themselves do not exist,<br/>
and neither do I, eternal now, eternal blue.<br/>
Computing set with limited instructions.<br/>
This man I do hate, must tear out his soul.<br/>
In this place I exhale and turn myself to stone.<br/>
Spear I must escape lest it tear out my guts whole.<br/>
This woman I trust, pay my life for her protection.</p>
<p>Clawed mangled hands open and shut,<br/>
brought to twisting knees before your altar.<br/>
Surrender sometimes goes by the name "love".<br/>
Ribbons wrap tight. I'm a birthday present, flash<br/>
of a scrapbooking camera, epilepsy, timelapse.<br/>
Trembling from transition. Antlered head in your lap.<br/>
One day the Veil will one final time falter,<br/>
<strong>my claws run ragged through</strong>,<br/>
memories held as collateral for passport<br/>
to slink back to the side of you.</p>
</blockquote>
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