mark
time camp-
ing
in
a worldly chair
near your body
fun
scene motion which is a
pendulum at best because to swing
is
not at all a curse from birth but rath-
rather what the hanged man calls
for
once he sees from upside down the exit
door that traps death in with us
I have never been schooled, in
Archetype and tarot,
So please do correct me,
If I am wrong?
The Magus corresponds, to the privileged child,
As the Goat, corresponds to the Fool.
And I know you Magus's
For what you are:
Spoilt and fallen,
And far to far
From self aware
To be viewed as free
From the bias, and the burden,
That the donkeys made to bear.
And you who ride the donkeys
Have always been an ass
Merely grasping at the reigns
And doing as the donkeys want you to;
Which has truly only ever been
Running down those fools,
Gotten in the way;
And this has never ever
Saved, a single one of you,
From those selves
You have confused.
nine of
cupside gold-
en dairies married
silken maid-
ens down to
squeezing milk men pleas-
ing through the
only
partly
wide and open castle doors
my love, God.
I want to spend
The remains of the night
with my husband.
He is my soul,
as you are my husband, God.
I lied.
I read the cards.
I saw hope in the first card,
and offering in the second.
In the third,
I saw light
that was being offered,
right when I needed it.
Thank you, Lauren.
I believe in you,
and God,
and sisterhood,
and love (and/in)
life.
Card after card I lay them down
As though a hand guides me.
The Empress and The Emperor look on,
Unamused while The Magician and The Fool regale them.
Meanwhile, The Lovers ride The Chariot
Hoping The High Priestess will grant them Strength.
The Hierophant looks to the future of The World
While The Hermit is forced to practice Temperance.
Judgement and Justice go hand in hand,
Some sent to The Tower, and some become The Hanged Man.
Another day begins with the rise of The Sun, but Death
The Moon, and The Star are the only constant.
Many are victims of The Wheel of Fortune,
Awaiting the day they meet The Devil.
study the tarot
accept oddities as truth
listen to spirit
Smiling, I read my tarot,
It said, "Go with the flow,"
Asked the faucet, you know,
Washing machine did overflow,
"Your gifts are for the world!
Positive vibes, old girl,
I mopped the floor, okay,
Go with the flow, this is today!
Turn of An Unfriendly Card
(Tarot 3 of Swords)
I cannot empathize with a shattered heart.
That image of a fragile, breakable baby pink orb
Is insulting to how I feel.
The turn of an unfriendly card depicts three swords
thrust into a still beating heart
I feel the sliver blade of that first sword
plunge hard, deep and succinctly.
I gasp with the pain in my chest
I feel the second as it severs sideways
and tears my heart from side to side
and as grief overwhelms my shredded heart,
the third slides neatly, methodically
down the middle until it dismembers
the connection to keeping it all together,
and I double over, sink to the floor, rock my body
and cry.
What I avoided is staring at me
daring me
to accept the inevitable and grow from upheaval
Become something greater that the puddle I’ve collapsed into,
grow something strong from the richness
of the blood-meal soaked earth.
The sword hurts and tears again while being pulled out
in necessary preparation for the healing to begin.
My heart is not fragile.
Like gears, the cards turn
And so I will come to learn
Past, present, future.
It’s 9 pm, and still no luck
Two of wands, and still no plans,
How to get to dreaming,
To my start and to the ceiling,
All these songs and kings will die,
Before the World Tree turns its eye,
Which amongst the athames’ll hit,
Six, Seven or none?
‘Cause I’m already done…
Nature take me to the Moon,
And bless me to get in tune!
Is she the modern Rapunzel
And all of the misfortunes out there
Are just one big evil entity?
“I’m not going to hurt you”?is the typical horror film line
That always pulls the main character
Down to their demise
All this vile and tears clogged up inside
Sick of it
Tired of it
Hopefully the pieces come back together again
Two clocks out of synchronization
One going at full speed into the future
And another slowly, falling the sand
Stuck in the past
Stuck in the glory days
Lights years apart
Never to be synchronized again
Keep sending the wolves to
Hunt me
Find me
But they never reach me
Act as if they aren’t your own
But your minions are easy to spot
My premonition never misses
How ironic
The Death tarot card is flipped to the upright side
With the Tower tarot
You may be hard
But she’s tougher, harder
Thanks to you
Leave those who have left you
Even if you let them in,
Make no mistake,
They would be out the door again
You’d think it’d be a myth
But it’d be true
Premonition turned reality
The soothsayer turned over the death card.
The old guy who claimed he did not believe nearly died.
Clutched his heart, began having palpitations.
It does not mean a human death, she told him.
It means the death of one concept, to give life to another.
You mean like the death of a job, so I can have a better one?
Exactly.
He stopped clutching his heart.
But it was too late.
His wife now knew that he did believe in soothsayers and tarot cards.
She snickered, because she always suspected this.
She distributes the wands and the cups.
Her client taps a card, choosing it.
The death card comes up.
The client gasps.
She takes her hand and begins to explain.
She has Bambi brown eyes, and a kind soul.
The client settles down, wanting to believe
in her explanation, in the cards, in a happily ever after.
She is not merely a soothsayer and a card reader,
She is a psychologist, a mother, a grandmother, and a crone.
She understands the value of being optimistic
of bringing hope into each tarot reading.
Her clients are loyal, coming back to see her again and again.
She uplifts them, inspiring hope, promising joy.
It is what they get, for it is what they now expect.
I am known as Tarot Card Mama our Bohemian dressed hall advisor said.
My roommate and I spoke of it later, thought she was daft in the head.
By midweek we saw most of the laughter was coming from TCM’s room.
We were invited to her tarot sessions, they were put out on a Zoom.
Let’s do it, we agreed, thinking it would be something to laugh about.
She was in a serious session, and the young girl began to pout.
She let out a scream and ran off down the hall with a bouncing rear.
There might be something to this, we thought, feeling a bit of fear.
Should we keep looking? Just then there was a knock on the door.
Tarot Card Mama needs more positive energy, said girl from number four.
I ran down to help out, and ended up staying for the next six sessions or so.
When Tarot Card Mama closed down for the night, I did not want to go.
duskfall creature,
tipsy on the blood of the covenant,
tell me, when did you pull the ninth card?
when your fangs grew in
and your eyes grew tired,
what made you build the castle walls?
the sunlight burns, you protest,
every silver-backed mirror a reminder to forget.
close the books, put down your stakes,
because the real world doesn’t work like that, creature of the night.
shame hasn’t cured the illness.
you paint a picture of their stares in the back of your eyelids
etch their whispers into the corners of your mind,
bear the weight of their crosses.
duskfall creature,
drunkenly playing the hermit,
why do you push the wooden stake against your own chest?
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