11/2/17

Summing, coming to conclusion, studying illusion. wisp ghosts grasp without touch, lick viscous tears, slip, drift, dissolve. Obscured signposts, numb of cold insists: There! hope for succor, for warm reception – just a silly scare a sullied scar, a bully war, a stab of sorrow. Better sums tomorrow, less confusion ... more resolution. jupiter, saturn and pluto in circular reception Barefoot in the snow icy roads winds so strong I could not make you hear. I thought you were my destiny. Crazy thoughts, far from clear; but I believed song lyrics from Saturnine deities would not lie, leave me dying, fading into winter's grey drifting clouds, endless sorrow endured for naught. Lost on this careless corner, dreaming of oblivion, intent on visions like rain tapping against eternity's vast windowpane. Scenic serenity. Nature's gradations of green soothe tired eyes, trembling nerves, throbbing veins. Slivers of moonlight reflect in withered refrains, unearth secrets embedded in song effervescing through cool pure air cleansing the uprising nestling set aflame resurrected tempered mettle, pure, wise, tested engorged with the will to rise" astral vision Mystery mists of history holy crescent lightening sky Calm anticipation early pinks crescend from eerie violets Thunderous Jupiter twinkles like a happy kitten, tummy extends for adoration Omens, prophecy, hope for endless happy returns quests into/out of space/mind (without gravity, how can we fall ... or love?) Aching for stars, planets, dreams, silent assent that means all is promised I touch a cosmic peak breathless at such altitude Winter born, Saturn ruled, not a saint nor a fool, Capricorn. Discreet ascent into deeper truth. Saturn, an old friend in the way that long relation is often contentious, I have been seeing her as something of an employer, demanding with dour countenance her tasks to be done yet in some wee hours letting her hair down for quiet intense talks about what really matters. taking on colours Plutonic, ambient dark encrypted in the depths of Father Saturn as in in death (and the meta) Old enemy a friend in waiting -- teaching if I will but listen instead of running, silent screaming, beating my breast from within, re-breaking, re-breaking a heart so shattered, not to reset but to bleed and then, a whisper: "yes, reset, remember with new respect for who you have always been but feared to see" This ally silently screaming within my deepest heart, my darkest dreams "Listen, love and revere this wild child who laughs at whirlwinds and dances to life's changing, challenging melodies. Be free to sing along without inhibition or internalized mockery. This is our time, yours and mine, to be wonderfilled."? It Is Written I stand, open and defenseless, Waiting for Pluto to overpower me, Take me where he will, Suit me to his purpose. Or, is that my sister Hecate Coming to meet me, Coming to embrace me, To set me free? Wondrous are the ways of the shifty, glamour-ridden mind. We peek out through rainbow slits Onto a sinuous landscape. Slippery bits of meaning slither along Hissing out of forked tongue Oracular riddles. "Oh, yes, my love awaits me. In the tall grasses we will twain. Great fortune is to befall us. It is written." And rewritten, and rewritten On and on through the fever. Burning molecules, organic fuel, Dancing, wildly, within a fiery pentagram, Within channeled schematics, Ignited by a living passion. I am beyond words. Tumbling through shiny bubbles And iron-wrought hieroglyphs. There is nothing to depend on But pure will And the ability To suspend belief. Pluto Transit like a hurricane like a natural disaster wind and rain lay waste to my life. tossed, torn, left astray and a stranger in the way, or at least not accepted norm. a sad wastrel adrift in tempest’s storm. sing my wanderers' song tonight. let callous wind carry fading melody off onto gale whipped ports of call. my breath's been carried out to sea nothing left to become of me once the hurricane has passed into the day the foggy, rainy day . . . I gaze upon the ragged sea.