tomorrow's horrorscope

[Doreen Peri]

Hi Hest!

I get my horrorscope in my e-mail every day. Why? I donno, just a fun thing to do, I guess. Tomorrow's horrorscope says this....

" Things may be moving a bit too fast for you to grab a hold of anything, DOREEN. There is an element of the unexpected entering into the equation. Be prepared for anything. The mood of the day is especially light and perhaps a bit superficial. People may not be entirely reliable, so if there is something you absolutely need to do, you might consider just doing it yourself. "

What do you make of this? Isn't this like every day?

Or??? Should I take this seriously?

I was born July 21, 1953 in Washington, DC at Columbia Hospital for Women. Rumor has it, it was approximately 7AM but then again, another rumor has it that it was 10PM. (My parents could never agree on this and there's no published record of it anywhere as far as I know, but I KNOW I have a navel and therefore I WAS born and so, I'm coming to you for advice.)

What's up with my chart?

What should I expect?

I'm feeling a bit lost tonight and so I thought I'd stop by here since it's too cold to go outside and look for the moon.

I love the moon. I'm a moonchild. The moon is my lover. I consult with him often.

I'm not kidding.

And I've written many poems to him or about him, too, though he'll be the first to claim I was USING him as a metaphor! The ingrate!

HELP! I need Mysticism and Magic!

[stilltrucking]

HELP! I need Mysticism and Magic!

My pink bike, nobody told me it was a girls bike, my grandmother fished it out of a pile of scrap on a junkman's horse and wagon. Her house on Eastern and Carline was Next to a junkyard, when I first moved there in fthe forties the junk yard only took up one corner of the bloackwe were on, but over the years they bought up house after house and tore them down. Until my grandparents house was the last one standing in sea of scrap iron and junk. I rode that bike through a magic land for a kid, the waterfront where me and jitterbug would climb the ladders of the Cranes and see the whole harbor, catch the slow moving frieght trains up to fells point, I rode that bike and jitterbug never made fun of me for being on a girls bike, but he must have known, he being a couple years older than me. Then one day a kid teased me about it and I was mortified, such was my frail male ego at the time. I still believed one sex was superior to the other.

[Doreen Peri]

the first one is me almost totally

the second one is nowhere near as close

the fact that these two are so totally different based on the time of day of birth is spooky... or it's just arbitrary zeros and ones selecting a text when you punch it in

i donno but..... the first one is definitely me in most all regards

thank you for doing this for me, sweet miss hest... let me see if i can come up with a more accurate time of birth and if i can, i'll ask you again

otherwise, i knew dad was probably right



you're a sweetheart

and when there is a full moon, i put water in jars
and store them outside on the wood deck or next
to the fence and i remember rainbows coming after
when the blends of color come to reside and execute
themselves in fury and want on top of a daunting day
and i remember the way we exchanged verse
and matter and i remember the chatter of birds
as they chirped good morning when ghosts
wanted to disappear

when there is a full moon,
all things become clear
and since i am a moonchild,
i hear echoes between the distance
of unnavigated craters and i shave
my perception to allow ears
to hear

the full moon rising,
clear as a new day




(thank you, my friend.....)

[Doreen Peri]

contradictions abound in each and every scenerio..

... almost every period or subtopic contradicts the last...interesting, hest -perhaps it's saying that ......




i am an arbitrary click of a mouse
on a ones and zero combo trick
coming to conclusions
with itself in an algebraic
manner, both sides of
the equation
balanced

or else, maybe, i'm just a short forecast
of dust, sprayed in an arbitrary display
of jive and currency,
currently correct,
risen from neglect
and scorpio
moons.

i know when june suits
the 7am report, a sparrow's song
awakening sobriety,
the earth summed, multiplied,
divided by the end of the
beginning and the
beginning of
equilibrium,
demands
sacrificing
provisions
for repairs
and psychology.

organization has nothing to do with
chronology, no matter how better
coincidental the accidents.

if you take a minimal scope
or curbed energy and
effortlessly concentrate
objectives, no matter how
constructive the opportunity
may be, no matter how far
reaching your plans,
structure of a tour desire
would never undermine
elements
by sea
or air.

travel tempered with
mercy and compassion
roughly adheres
to salvage
and scatter.

[stilltrucking]

i am an arbitrary click of a mouse

fingers typing
lining up thies words across a white field
black foot prints on virgin snow
then an arbitary click of a mouse
all the pixels vanish and

and scatter.

carbon based life forms to silicon
a brief extenstion of my life
longevity has its blessings St Martin the king said

lord knows I have had time enough

I am only a child, an ignorant, innocent, trusting, greedy for more life child
___________________
this was a writting assignment at VU.org about five years ago, I was supposed to write 250 words about myself from the point of view of the opposite gender, I wimped out just could not put myself in her black dress that day in that clinic in DC back in 1974.

...........
I am a two-fold continuous multiplicity in your field of visual sensation.. I am these photons bouncing off this screen onto your retina. I am the square root of negative one. I am a stranger to myself.. I am something that exists for a time in this best of all spatio-temporal worlds, and then will not exist. I am a compulsive scribbler. I am a language freak.

I am still trucking. I am trying to learn how to drive on this virtual highway. I am smiling Jacky, a knight of the highway, and a sailor on a concrete sea. I am a guy in a story about adultery, acid, and abortion and I am running away from home to join the circus. I have found true love, and fled from it . I am a virgin. I am crazy. I am a truck.

I am ridiculous, and this is a farce. Every thing happens twice once as tragedy and again as farce. I am trying to write 250 words here without embarrassing myself to death. I am not sure what kind of writing course I have signed up for here. Am I being too arty farty . Is this the wrong place to do spontaneous prose. St Jack would probably be doing spontaneous HTML by now

This was a assignment, for a writing class at vu.org

As I remember I did not follow instructions for the assignment. I was supposed to write about myself as if I was of the opposite gender. I tried to imagine myself going into that clinic for an abortion. The full weight of what I was responsible for did not come down until that day on Cape Cod when I first read St Anne of Sexton's The Jesus Papers.

Its funny what goes through one's mind at traumatic moments in life. The most mundane stuff, TV shows, dialogue from trash novels. I was thinking about a Novel, The End of The Road, What would I say if they asked me who I am?

............................................

Jesus Suckles

Mary, your great
white apples make me glad.
I feel your heart work its
machine and I doze like a fly.
I cough like a bird on its worm.
I’m a jelly-baby and you’re my wife.
You’re a rock and I the fringy algae.
You’re a lily and I’m the bee that gets inside.
I close my eyes and suck you in like a fire.
I grow. I grow. I’m fattening out.
I’m a kid in a rowboat and you’re the sea,
the salt, you’re every fish of importance.

No. No.
All lies.
I am small
and you hold me.
You give me milk
and we are the same
and I am glad.

No. No.
All lies.
I am a truck. I run everything.
I own you.

[stilltrucking]

"god is not mocked except by believers" Anne Sexton

I don't think there is any man here more clueless about poetry or women than I am, I suppose one woman's poison is another man's meat.

Revere Beach, MA. 1974 I read her poetry for the first time and it got me through many a bad night since then.

http://katebenedict.com/BadSexton.htm

http://www.mla.org/ade/bulletin/n112/112033.htm