Airmedh's cloak

 the hand of Nuada cut off in battle

Credne Cerd, the smith, made a silver hand so skilfully that all the joints moved

Argentlam // silverhand

 No maimed person might rule.

Miach and Airmedh, son and daughter of Dian Cecht  arrive

They replace the eye of the half-blind doorkeeper with that of a cat

Gain access

Nuanda is tormented by an infection at the join of the silverhand and the flesh.

Miach has Nuanda's long-buried hand dug up

He chants a charm enjoining each sinew, nerve, vein and bone to reunite

In three days the hand and arm have feeling, deftness and touch

 Dian Cecht is furious that his son is a superior physician

He attacks and Miach heals himself until

his father cleft his brain in two.

out of Miach's grave there grew 365 herbs, each specific for healing the part of the body from which it had sprung.

365 herbs picked and laid out on Airmedh's  cloak according to the part of the body where it had grown to aid remembering its healing property


Dian Cecht shook up the mantle and muddled it

Coltsfoot // Coughwort

LUNGS

Viola Odorata 
HEART
< 3

<3heartsease br="">

 anti-neoplastic, antiseptic, soothing

Brigid's cloak // brat

She said to the king that the place where she was standing was the perfect spot. It was good fertile land, with access to water from a nearby lake and beside a forest where they could keep pigs, collect firewood and forage for foods like nuts and berries. The king refused. She smiled at the king and said “Will you give me as much land as my cloak will cover?” The king was intrigued, how could that be enough land to build a convent? The king agreed, interested to see what would happen. He knew Brigid was a very resourceful woman but he couldn’t see how this could work in her favour. Brigid spread her brat on the ground, she then asked her four companions to hold a corner of the brat and walk in opposite directions. The four friends walked north, south, east and west. The brat immediately grew and began to cover many acres of land. The king kept his promise. 

 

3D filament print containing mugwort, viola odorata, coltsfoot, rosemary

 

Housing experts call them “stigmatized properties.

The differences are minor, but nagging. Hoffman has “trickles of red” running from the keyholes. The book has “greenish black slime” that flows up the stairs and oozes out of the walls.


There are several versions of exactly what did happen, mainly a Good Housekeeping article


“The Amityville Horror” was the second-highest-grossing movie of 1979, behind “Kramer vs. Kramer,


“The house has been trouble in and out for a while,” she said.

from Hinge Picture By Susan Howe

“Crawl in,” said the witch, “and see if it’s hot enough to put the bread in.”
—Hansel and Gretel

All roads lead to rooms.
—Irish Proverb

a stark

                  Quake

               a numb

                  Calm

                      *

               clutching my Crumbl

               ejumble

                  among

               Tombs and

               in Caves

                  my

                Dream

                Vision


https://www.theparisreview.org/interviews/6189/susan-howe-the-art-of-poetry-no-97-susan-howe

William James says that in times of trauma and crisis a door is opened to a place where facts and apparitions mix.


When I was a visiting poet at Temple, I encountered two huge volumes called Melville’s Marginalia. Its editor, Wilson Walker Cowen, had collected and printed all the passages Melville had marked in his personal library. At first glance, this alphabetically arranged collection of quotations from numerous authors resembled a giant Charles Olson poem. The preface said Cowen died young. All this immense labor had been for his graduate- student degree. I thought of the pale usher and the sub-sub-librarian in Moby-Dick. Then, as I was going over the material, I came upon Melville’s notes in his copy of the Irish poet James Clarence Mangan’s collected works. I remembered singing Mangan’s “Róisín Dubh” with the Reddins. I looked into Mangan’s life and work, and by following Mangan—God! I couldn’t believe it—I found that he may have been a source for the character of Bartleby.
Earlier, when I was writing the poems that would become Frame Structures, I stumbled on Longfellow’s wife Frances Appleton, who died by fire in their home library. She was trying to paste locks of her children’s hair into an album, using a candle to melt the wax, when a spark fell on her dress. His beard you see in the famous photograph was grown to cover the scars on his face, which was badly burned when he tried to save her. The Longfellow House is now a National Historic Site, and when I took the tour I asked the guide which was the room she burned in. He brushed the question aside as if such a thing had never happened. It doesn’t fit the sunny portrait of the author they are hired to exhibit.
In the same way, I came upon Jonathan Edwards’s sister Hannah by chance when I slipped her “private writings” out of a folder in the Beinecke Reading Room at Yale.
I don’t want to be so arrogant as to say these are recoveries. Maybe certain people find me.

***
 from My Emily Dickinson

When I love a thing I want it and I try to get it. Abstraction of the particular from
the universal is the entrance into evil. Love, a binding force, is both envy and
emulation. HE (the Puritan God) is a realm of mystery and will always remain
unknowable, authoritarian, unpredictable. Between revealed will and secret will
Love has been torn in two.

noltland bitch

A wide variety of ominous or hellish supernatural dogs occur in mythologies around the world, similar to the often seen dragon. Features that have been attributed to hellhounds include mangled black fur, glowing red eyes, super strength or speed, ghostly or phantom characteristics, and a foul odor.