Under My Thorns

My skin is made of sentient thorns,
coated with well lived words
and a patch of forget-me-nots,
which shields all that grows
in the chambers of my heart.

Once upon three forevers ago,
while my hips were lines
and my chest was too new to feed
anyone but me, I believed

my forget-me-nots were too dear,
too costly for me to afford a blooming coat
that could cover me from thought to step—

then and now, I’ve been wrong
so many times. The flowers do cost,
but deep-deep-deep, under my thorns,
forget-me-nots grow wild and free.

Where only I (and my chosen) can feel,
thorn turns to petal, love rules the field.
Outside, where hate often licks unseen,
my thorns are ready to impale its tongue,
to deny its rotting kiss.

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a wee note…
The last few days have been emotionally charged to the brim. The horrors that touched France are rippling through the feeling world, making anyone (with a brain and heart) rage and mourn. I tend to cope with most of my raging and mourning, by morphing them into words. So I was thankful when Sanaa, over at Prompt Nights, asked for poetry that reminded us that “Hate’s a parasite that rots the Soul”. And at the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, Karin is “In the Market for Poems” that make us “Consider some kind of bargain, exchange, purchase, promise.” I’m also linking this piece to Poets United (Poetry Pantry #311).

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Frankenstein and Forget-Me-Nots, by Winter Moon“Frankenstein and Forget-Me-Nots”, by Winter Moon Vintage
(You can find this art print and much more on her Society6 shop. And if you delight in her work as much as I do, you might also want to follow her blog).

The Approach of the Witches’ New Year…

With only three days until The Witches’ New Year—All Hallows’ Eve, Halloween, El dia de los muertos, Samhain—I’ve been working on my lists.

List-making relaxes me; not only because it conjures a good old sense of organization, control and accomplishment (when I get to cross something out), but also because the act of transferring thought from mind through hand to paper is a marvelous psychological release (at least for me).

I was surprised to find that not as many items from 2015 are being carried over into 2016, only three important ones… and one of those might be fulfilled before the end of the calendar year *fingers crossed*.

So what’s going to fill my witchy life with excitement, you might be asking? Um… you weren’t really asking that? Oh well, I’m telling you anyway… I’m bad to the bone, remember? The biggest items have to do with my health and my writing. But I have to wait a few more months before working on a likely list. Still, I foresee the publication of a poem collection, a compilation of my published work (did anyone say print edition?), and a bit of agent hunting…

Worry not, my Wicked Luvs; not all of my schedule will be listed in this delicious planner, which I got from my even more delicious Piano Man…
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For instance, I will be adding wee tales and poems to Discordia: a Collection of Drawings, by Jeremy A. Bastian. I love Bastian’s dark and intricate ink-work, so when I met him at New York Comic Con, I was very pleased when he said that he would not be offended—“but honored”—if I scribbled my dark fiction and poetry all over his book. Yes, I will share the results with you. 😉
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I was gifted two lovely lined journals and a bunch of red and black markers. The package included no name, but the note said, “I hope you never stop sharing blackout poetry and poem bits. I read them every morning. Some have made it to my refrigerator door. If you sell them I will buy them. Until you do sell them here is a toking of my appreciation and thanks.” As you might imagine, my Luvs, I’m over the Moon and way beyond Pluto with delight. Thank you!
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What else? Oh yes, I will do a mock NaNoWriMo bit. It will be mostly editing… I might share my weekly progress… not sure yet. And, of course, I will certainly host Poems for the Cruelest Month, in April… but only 13 days/entries; I just don’t think I can (or want) to manage 30 days).

No, don’t leave yet! There is more. I was the recipient of Winter Moon’s All Hallow’s Read yumminess. I was more than excited (and misty-eyed) when I touched my copy of My Brother’s Ghost. And because Yvonne is such a darling, she surprised me with the cutest of red journals, one of her flower filled glass vial pendants, and a few other goodies that scream Magaly. I’m seriously thinking about mailing the frog skeleton postcard to myself *cough*. Thank you!!
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Then, my Piano Man came home with a box from Judy. Meet Bones the Purple, a cutie that brought all sorts of grins to my face. Look at those ears, skull, mouth, ribs… Thank you!!!
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On the chronic pain (in my ass) side… Yesterday, I went for my first long walk in about a week. It wasn’t the most pleasant of experiences, since my previous (very short) exercise hiatus left my flesh and bones in a rage. But I soothed myself by ending my walk with a visit to the thrift shop.

I found a stunning, tiny copper dish to use as an offering plate for my little brother. I also got a color-changing, moonstone-like wee bowl, for liquid offerings (but forgot to take a picture).
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I unburied The Crow: Shattered Lives & Broken Dreams, a collection of poems and short fictions, which I had no idea existed… but is perfect for the season.
The Approach of the Witches’ New Year… 7I almost offered The Crow as an All Hallows’ Eve giveaway… but my reader’s greed refuses to allow it *sigh*. Can you blame me, though? Look at some of the artwork and description:
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So… my Wicked Luvs, what adventures have you been listing lately?