30 Poems in 30 Days

First of all, I'm already behind. This is going for the month of June. I have two poems, one written last night about the night before, and one written just now. These are all drafts and have not been adequately revised--well, maybe Bloodletting has--to meet my own expectations. The other thing is that I am out of practice. Most of my poems that I have written over the past, oh, five years have been spur of the moment responses to some blessing or insight or funny phrase. Poetry as a craft demands a practice and a vision, each informing the other, on the world. Perhaps I'll write on that.

In other news, I have a job with Habitat for Humanity (just because it has "volunteer" in the title doesn't mean I don't get paid), Dreux has left to parts unknown (Montana, actually, but only until one of her prospects comes through), and am done with school. I'm done with the post-thesis/new job honeymoon and need to maintain discipline on my writing, my work, my goals, and keeping up with local issues. Hopefully, I can translate some of that into intelligible--and maybe enjoyable--writing up here.

So here are two poems:

Bloodletting (June 2, 2013)
My nose bleeds, as it does up here on the verge of space
in the spacecraft of my body madly tumbling through a void pockmarked by surreal objects.
Each drop recalls a beer, a cigarette, the car exhaust inhaled on my commute,
or the thin air & pine pollen that coats everything;
or the other innumerable, infinitesimal toxins and blessings crashing through my intravenous rapids.
I bleed onto my green-striped white shirt--
which I will frantically wash in the men's room--
and each drop carries those toxins in abundance
like some balancing of humors, an incantation scrawled in blood on a bathroom sink & paper towels
& forgotten sigils inscribed on my upper lip.
My lightheadedness confirms a divine acceptance of my sacrifice to Hermes
whose winged sandals I have worn for these past months--
each day a landscape blinked past on I-17--
& now try to return with fearful gratitude.
The bleeding halts, but never heals,
& I understand the exchange, the mending, the sorcery;
I return--suddenly--from those inhuman speeds.

...

Tarot, June 3 (June 3, 2013)
A star shines
not in the distance
but in the future,

& a man speaks to a judge
on a vague horizon.

The judge holds a scale
that balances a lonely man & a king:
they are the same man.

A queen holds a flower--
here, or maybe now--
& explains peace, oppression, prudence;

while another man walks
between a beautiful woman
and her wide-pawed cat.

...

Post-script: I don't especially like "Tarot, June 3," but wanted to try something out. I have fiddled with Tarot (I have a Thoth Deck and am most acquainted with the Thoth spread) for about a year now. Mostly, my readings are my own and provide some reflection. A reading highlights--to me--particular influences in my life and allows me to single them out. The Tarot is a symbolic representation of the universe and therefore all elements of my life are present in the deck; a single spread addresses just some particularly significant elements of my present, my choices, and my influences. The Thoth spread, as employed and adapted by Crowley, has some unfamiliar characteristics to more common or popularized spreads (usually the three-card spread representing past, present, and future) by articulating present state, possible directions, current influences, and a "destined" or "karmic" influence. Crowley himself used it as a form of meditation. The fantastic artwork was painted by Lady Frieda Harris, though designed by Crowley. Here are some examples (including inspirations from this spread):









Finding high quality scans of these cards is weirdly hard. I may have to amend this situation.