Poetry, Tarot, and Twitter—Truth Be Told

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It’s not like I haven’t been writing poetry, although I haven’t written as much lately as in the past. Throughout my life, there always have been periods of time where the poetry, in verse form, is slow.

But if you’re a poet, you know that the poetry always expresses itself in one form or another.

A lot of my poetry writing now comes in the form of interpreting Tarot cards for readings. Tarot is symbology, pure and simple, The language of Tarot and the language of poetry is the same for me.

Both Tarot and poetry are a form of expression for me. My worldview plays an important role in how I interpret the cards and the words I use, just like when I write a poem. The worldview for both come from my soul as informed by my relationship to the unseen.

God is a word I have used to describe this unseen force, but I have enhanced my concept of God over the years. The Divine/the Universe are also words I use to describe where I get my inspirations from.

Source.

Spirit.

But most importantly, I understand that the separation between The All That Is and me is indistinguishable. I belong to that larger entity. That entity is me.

I am so indiscriminate when it comes to where i write. I have papers stuffed in drawers of things I have written, I used to try to keep everything, but over the past ten years I discarded much of this clutter, including journals I wrote when I was an adolescent. Anything worth keeping I tried to put on a hard drive So whatever I have left, I’m going to put some of it on this blog, little by little. I’m going to to identify which is which,  but I will intersperse it with new writings as I do them.

Also, I have a lot of poems on Twitter that I have written in various accounts that I had not made clear belonged to me until now. These accounts were places I could hide various parts of me. These days I feel more whole than ever before and I feel more secure to freely share who I am. With that in mind, I will be remixing my poetry tweets and sharing them here as well.

Today I feel as if this is an ending of a chapter and the beginning of a new one.

 

proof of concept

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i wanted to believe the concept
to know that the mirror of air
reflected something back
that the hope of becoming a life
would not be miscarried or aborted
that in the end
i in the nursing home
would not wonder
why i am there sitting
on a worn brown chair

i needed the proof
that fits and starts
could become conclusions
i needed the numbers
the operands
the equation
the four parts equally divided in two
if a then b
and if b
then all things are possible

i had to know
i had to know
i had to know
and you showed me

©A. D. Joyce, 2019

shoures soote

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there was once a time we elite
knew what that meant
and I once believed i was that

probably the last of my generation

even so
was it ever the way i remember it

i forget the color of your eyes
downcast as they are
caught in the glare of your cell phone screen
your conversation is an enigma
of iconery and shorthand
your voice the chime of bells
and musical phrases
never songs

i soften the hard ground
with my faulty memory
the smell of dirt
the butterflies the bees
where are they now

I thought i saw you yesterday
a college student
but how could that be
you must be as old as i am now

©A. D. Joyce, 2019

the life

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when the story ends
all the highlights told
life still goes on
the everydays
the good and the bad
repeat repeat
shadows grow longer
love grows deeper
or maybe love fades
happy ever after
sad thereafter
sometimes one
sometimes the other
when the story is written
on the pages
the life is left
to the imagination

©A. D. Joyce, 2018