March 15, 2020 | Filed Under Admin | Comments Off on Twitter Troubles, Part 2
Twitter locked me out of my account again today due to yet another “possible violations of our Terms of Service”. Given that I was locked out for most of the last two weeks, and finally got back in Tuesday, and have not posted since then, I’m wondering what Terms of Service my lack of posts violated.
Anyway, I’m back in—for now. If you’re looking for me on Twitter, and I disappear again, you can rest assured that Twitter has once again blocked my account for . . . something.
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| Filed Under Tarot, Runes, Oracles, Weekly Insight | Comments Off on Weekly Insight from the Oracles for March 15, 2020
The Weekly Insight from the Oracles for March 15, 2020 is live on my Patreon!
Many thanks to my delightful Patrons!
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March 7, 2020 | Filed Under Poem for Hela | Comments Off on Poem: Climbing the Ling-Ying Terrace and Looking North ~ Po Chü-I
Climbing the Ling-Ying Terrace and Looking North
~ Po Chu-I
Translated from Chinese by Arthur Waley
Mounting on high I begin to realize the smallness of Man’s Domain;
Gazing into the distance I begin to know the vanity of the Carnal World.
I turn my head and hurry home—back to the Court and Market,
A single grain of rice falling—in the Great Barn.
March 3, 2020 | Filed Under Poem for Hela | Comments Off on Poem: Death & Co. ~ Sylvia Plath
Death & Co.
~ Sylvia Plath
Two, of course there are two.
It seems perfectly natural now —
The one who never looks up, whose eyes are lidded
And balled? like Blake’s.
Who exhibits
The birthmarks that are his trademark —
The scald scar of water,
The nude
Verdigris of the condor.
I am red meat. His beak
Claps sidewise: I am not his yet.
He tells me how badly I photograph.
He tells me how sweet
The babies look in their hospital
Icebox, a simple
Frill at the neck
Then the flutings of their Ionian
Death-gowns.
Then two little feet.
He does not smile or smoke.
The other does that
His hair long and plausive
Bastard
Masturbating a glitter
He wants to be loved.
I do not stir.
The frost makes a flower,
The dew makes a star,
The dead bell,
The dead bell.
Somebody’s done for.
