Saturn Transit To The 3rd House & A Little Poem For Monday

I am going to post someone else’s poem for my Little Poem for Monday.

I am looking through poems that I wrote when I was 23, 24, 25. Poems that were in my manuscript.

They are mostly erotic poems. That’s what they were to me. I was obsessed. They are hard. They are full of longing, desire, masochism. Plain-spoken. That was romance to me.

I should check where Pluto was in my chart during those years. I should make a little ebook of these. Lord knows it’s trendy what with 50 Shades of blah blah blah.

And this is the first time since late January that I haven’t published a poem of mine on the blog and I’m not sure if I will keep this project going. I realize I’m not so comfortable putting up these NSFW poems. And thinking to myself: will I lose clients? Maybe I’ll gain some, but not the kind I want 😉

It is interesting to me though. My devotion to my subject matter during those years. And I wonder about your obsessions, where Pluto is making his presence known in your life.

With Saturn transiting my 3rd House I’m revisiting the old (Saturn) writing (3rd) and wondering if the retrograde will bring more of this or less (I think more).

And finally, yesterday, I submitted two poems to my college friend who will be editing a new on-line journal so news to come about that if it works out 🙂

What is Saturn up to in your life? Remember Saturn is fear. And Scorpio just wants to feel safe. What will make you feel safe? So that you can do the work of Saturn?

**

Turns out I did find a poem to post. This is actually a piece of a longer poem so maybe I’ll post it, piece by piece. It was published in 2008 in The Louisville Review. It’s called Isaac and Rebecca. In this section, Rebecca is speaking:

4.

That you must have been so tired by the end of that story.

All that walking up the mountain, not a young man anymore.

And then the animal instead of you. What were you thinking?

About unconditional love, maybe.

Years later, we were married.

And you loved kissing me, you said,

because it made you remember yourself that day.

You remembered him holding you down.

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