FOUR FEATHERS PRESS ONLINE EDITION: ZODIAC ENERGY Send up to three poems on the subject of or at least mentioning the words zodiac and/or energy, totaling up to 150 lines in length, in the body of an email message or attached in a Word file to donkingfishercampbell@gmail.com by 11:59 PM PST on July 19th. No PDF's please. Color artwork is also desired. Please send in JPG form. No late submissions accepted. Poets and artists published in Four Feathers Press Online Edition: Zodiac Energy will be published online and invited to read at the Saturday Afternoon Poetry Zoom meeting on Saturday, July 20th between 3 and 5 pm PST.

Wednesday, July 17, 2024

Lynn White

So Much Bull


“You’re just like me,”

said the woman in the Art Group,

“we both paint freely in bright colours

and constantly re-paint and make make changes,

wear the paper thin even until we’re content with it all.

We’re both Taurus you see - stubborn, dedicated, determined”


I used to reply that I wasn’t into astrology,

didn’t believe it at all.

Then she would describe the Taurus personality

and I recognised her.


It fitted her perfectly:

patiently determined to persevere till the job is done,

relaxed and reliable

but not afraid to speak out, a force to be reckoned with

bravely eccentric enough

to dye her hair green long after punk and youth had passed.

And so focused,

ultra well organised she had everything smartly sorted.


But I could also recognise myself

as she described herself,

so then I wondered…




Fishy Tales


I thought you’d left me

forever

that I was beyond rescue

drowning

but I see you now

full of energy

in your element

floating

rising to the surface

ready to pluck me

out of the water,

warm me up,

carry me home.

A true Piscean

you knew me better 

than I know myself.

Knew me in those watery depths

where I even grew a fishes tail.

You can tell me about it later

you know I love your fishy tales.




Scorpio’s Secret


I’ve kept our secret a long time, 

the mystery of our passion

and, ever resourceful, 

I stored it

deep in the watery underworld.

But now I’ve forgotten 

where 

I buried it

and my crabby comrades are long gone.

Their hard shells tell me nothing,

perhaps they never did,

but it was guarded by Pluto

to make sure it was safe.

We had a deal then,

back in the days 

when I thought him reliable

now I’m not sure

if I can trust him.

Perhaps he’s already dug it up

I won’t know till I find him,

if I can find him,

and when I do 

it’s resting place

will remain

my secret.

I’ve already lost our passion,

it’s buried forever.

And now

I shall become a hermit,

give up my hard shell

keep myself secret,

I need no one else.


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