blackberries

When I was young my family moved a lot, but we mostly lived in the Pacific Northwest. Wherever we went, we stayed to the outskirts of the towns, where things grew wild and the animals and kids had room to run.

I remember the blackberry brambles. Wide expanses of thorny tangles, growing tall along the sides of gravel roads and spreading along the edges of fields. Among the thick barbed branches and the broad leaves with fine hooks hidden on their undersides there would hang bunches of fruit in various stages of ripeness. There were tiny berries, hard and pale green, dark black berries mummifying on their stems, berries that were half pink and half black, and berries that were large and shiny and perfect, but made my mouth pucker unexpectedly with their pure sour juices.

venus

Venus moving across the face of the Sun. Source: NASA/SDO

Many people are aware of yesterday's rare cosmic occurrence: The Venus Transit. As a lover of astrology, I know that this event also carries a significant energetic influence. So here is a quick explanation:

Every 18 months, Venus goes retrograde, which means that, from our perspective, she moves backwards in relation to the zodiac. This happens 5 times every 8 years, and her path forms a perfect 5 pointed star. During her retrograde cycle, Venus moves between the Earth and the Sun. Normally when Venus and the Sun are conjunct, meeting at the same degree in the zodiac, her orbit places her either above or below the Sun from our perspective. Yesterday's transit, in which she visibly moved directly in front of the Sun, only happens approximately every 120 years. So this was a big deal.

Astrologically, when Venus goes retrograde, she influences all of us, bringing tension to our relationships and and prompting us to take a deep look at ourselves, our relationships and our values. I don't intend this to be an Astrology blog. If you want more details, I encourage you to look it up on any astrology site.

sound and vision

There is, not a fine line, but a broad grey area between being "psychic" and being "mad". But there is a distinction... one can gravitate to either end of the spectrum. That is what scares me the most.

~

It happened again last night.

I tend to sleep with one ear open. I think I have developed this as a survival instinct because I am a single female living on my own. I will hear a noise in the house and surface out of my subconscious state just long enough to determine its source, register it as normal feline activity, and fall easily back to sleep.

It was about 1:30 in the morning. I had been asleep for over an hour. It was probably just one of the cats, maybe even the little black and white boy kitty that likes to sneak into the house when I leave the back door slightly open. But when I heard the noise I went into alert mode... regaining full consciousness to listen for a possible intruder.

My eyes flew open. And there it was, in the dark, hovering above me. Barely visible, as if it were merely a trick of the eyes. Kind of like the colored spots that briefly obscure my vision after looking into bright light. But optical illusions of that nature don't trigger my depth perception. And sensing something that close to my face isn't just a visual thing... I can feel its proximity.

back to the dark ages...

Ok, so I just got done posting a bunch of poetry written during my last relationship in 2007 and 2008. But there is still some writing on my computer's hard drive that dates back farther still. Back to the previous relationship and much darker times.


Well, I might as well put it all up at once, right?


So in this blog post I am including 3 poems. I don't want to post them in separate blogs, in case my readers get confused and worried about me. The following were written in 2006, during the darkest period of my life. I was in a relationship with a very psychologically abusive man, had recently been diagnosed with bipolar disorder, and was actively suicidal. In retrospect, I really had little idea of the truth of my situation. I did not recognize myself as being a "victim". Yet the words I put down at the time were very insightful. That is why I am sharing them with you now, along with some art from the same period.

Full Moon Interrogation

As the Sun drops slowly
into the horizon of the turbulent
Cancerian sea
the Moon pulls tight on the cord
as she swings around our watery globe
in the eternal celestial dance

And the waxing Moon pulls on the tides
draws the blood from my womb
and causes a multitude of emotions
to be released into the shallows
like the seeping ejaculate
of cliff hanging starfish

My thoughts are carnal
exciting, rising
until her Capricious Highness
turns her head in my direction
blinding like the interrogator's lamp
staring with unblinking eyes
into the freshly dug graves of my heart

CONFESS!

Fantasies of new lust
morph unexpectedly
into memories of the recent past
smears of gleaming crimson
turn to dried stains on his skin
his words a mantra
summoning my inner divine
"I always wanted to taste a witch's blood"

CONFESS!

I thought it was fading
the pain replaced with smugness
but one simple night to confirm my suspicions
of his glaringly obvious downfall
has had a slow acting effect
that doesn't feel like justification at all

CONFESS!

All those well chosen words
sincere at the time, before...
before I realized that he's still not going away
like the never ending climactic sequence
of a cheesy horror film
I hold my breath, bite my tongue
fearing, waiting, for that plunge
as the white tipped wall of unfettered emotion
rips me from my narrow perch

I rip the covers from my sleepless bed
blood seeping from my womb
and tears streaming from my eyes
confused and obsessed at the meaning of my
reaction

Why should I feel guilty?
that's only the shell of the man I love
dancing like a hollow puppet
as he is tossed away on the surf
too far out of reach
he's drowned himself away


Originally written by Marion V. Darkstag  **Note
July 16th, 2008

Obsessive Ramblings of a Girl Gone Cold-Turkey

Finality.

I slam into it like a brick wall.

I'm bruised, concussed and retching from pain.
Yeah, sure. I'll get up and brush myself off.
But right now I really don't want to.
My head hurts
and I'm going to bitch and complain about it.

Denial.

I hear the sound of its death rattle.
The blunt truth is that there is no going back.
We can't push for more comfy good times.
There isn't anything I can say or do.
But how the fuck
am I supposed to stop obsessing about it?

Frustration.

My fantasies were unfulfilled.

I was hoping we could go out with a bang.
We were ripe with that sexual tension.
I lusted for that primal, simultaneous closure.
Not a chance.
Anti-climactic goodbye. So defensive. Discordant.

Confusion.

What were our motives all along?

Stumbling across each other in mutual need.
Pull me close. Push away. Testing... testing...
We danced around the boundaries of body and emotion.
I'm insecure.
Was it co-dependent love with hidden resentment?

Martyrdom.

The trump card of us Piscean folk.

I sit in stoic silence as I'm screaming inside.
I refuse to whine about you in front of my friends.
I can't admit that my resolve isn't flawless.
I'm ashamed.
I am so ridiculously pathetic about all of this shit.

Speculation.

Not that I really want to know.

Of course we will meet up again someday soon.
I know that it will be just hapless coincidence.
Over and over I imagine how, where and when.
So awkward
when I see that life without me is just how you want it.

Cold-Turkey.

Always tempted to pull you closer.

Do you see now why I couldn't be friends?
I'm going absolutely fucking crazy
waiting for your determined knock at my door.
Withdrawal pains.
You are the hardest fucking addiction I've ever had to quit.


Originally written by Marion V. Darkstag  **Note
May 28th, 2008

Coyote Smile, Crocodile Tears and The Bottle

I will no longer be a part of your

"best of both worlds"

when I have been for so long

the very best

of both your worlds.

Such a convenient facade:

The sweet, sensible girl

behind the up-and-coming man.

"With a girl like that he must be

doing something right.

He must be turning his life around!"

No.

I was the ever trusting booty-call.

The one you could take home to Mother.

Just a small part of

your double life

playing into your double entendres.

Your only ambition

was to be popular and care-free

to care for nothing, no one

and least of all

yourself.

You had it all:

Sanctuary from the effects of your hedonism

in the always open arms

of the woman

that loved you with uninhibited honesty.

And escape from love and the dangers of truth

in the witless praise and

shallow embrace

of the latest charmed stranger.

So get back on that stage and play the fool

call the masses to your show and

juggle with their affections.

Play it through in your comical style

when you cause the balls

to drop and roll away.

After all

it's so easy to seduce them

with the Coyote smile, Crocodile tears

and the bottle.

Always the bottle:

the problem, the solution

and your favorite excuse.

Run away

your cowardice consumes you.

Silly Rabbit

nothing chases you

but your own shadow

the aftermath of your habitual folly.

And worse still

is the nagging awareness that

life meaning and fulfilled purpose

could so easily

be attained.

You have chosen the hard road

and the path of least resistance.

Red pill in one hand

blue in the other

and you dared to swallow them both.

Outrageous Fool

where are you now?

Originally written by Marion V. Darkstag  **Note

June 13th, 2007

Peace Treaty

I sit here in the dark

a silent witness

to the epic battle between logic and emotion.

I wait patiently

confident in the knowledge

that history always repeats itself.

In the end

no matter what love I lose, what truth I gain

or what compromise is found

I will have peace in reunification.

Originally written by Marion V. Darkstag  **Note

June 10th, 2007

When I Forget

I love you when you are here

when you are with me

when you are fully

present

When I forget your inclination

to run

I forget

that you won't be my beautiful

feral pet

I love you when you stride out my door

after a hearty kiss

when you beam like a

vaudeville hero

When I forget how easily a simple errand

can go awry

I forget

that you lust for misguided

adventure

I love you when you return

when you are tired and scared

when we cry and embrace

for hours

When I forget that our problems will

never go away

I forget

that you are afraid

to be loved

Originally written by Marion V. Darkstag  **Note

April 10th, 2007

Don't Stick Your Tongue in the Electrical Socket

I lay awake, restless

your words bouncing around inside my mind

stripping electrons from each stable element

of my psyche

storing the latent charge within the filaments

of my spine

until my emotions explode

dazzling and erratic

from your verbal Tesla machine.

I am weary of words.

In matters of love

they prove to be redundant

or deceptive.

My naive lover

shut up and kiss me.

Let me read the Braille on your tongue

and experience the poetic truth

you express so eloquently

when our bodies unite.

The loose ions of our passion

draw us together

raising tiny hairs and biting at our fingers

seeking to course through the conductive metals

in our blood, our bones

in the circuit of our joined flesh.

And the energy builds

generated through the kinesis of our thrusts

flowing through your loins,

my vertebrae,

and sending a twisting blue arc

from my unblinking eyes into yours.

Unspoken understanding

We create love in the moment.

The truth is grounded in our shared experience.

You fall nervously again upon your words

a static filled signal is

broadcast across the distance.

In frustration you attempt to mentally engineer,

complicating us

with your talk of color coding,

safety switches,

and the dubious use of extension cords.

You don't see

how your words so easily corrupt

how verbal definition will, at best,

diffuse and drain our truth

while one overlooked wire

could cause catastrophic damage

to both of our psyches.

So I lay awake, restless

your words bouncing around inside my mind

as I fearfully watch for an upsetting spike

on the meter of language.

Originally written by Marion V. Darkstag **Note 

February 14th, 2007.