Astrologer's Wand

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1. Her Overwhelming Responsibilities

First one on the scene, reserved, prudent,

Replacing force with guile, seeks security,

Mother Rhea, quick to seize a vantage point.

Her husband, a goat-foot satyr, workaholic

Helps tidy the skeletons in their closets, while

Presiding over the earning and baking of bread,

Fermented spirits and the orgies that follow.

Swimming in the moat around the house

Is a legendary garden creature, the Sea-Goat

Half goat, half snail, a bearded uncertainty

With curvy tail tied up in a squirming maze.

Beautiful beasties, but subject to stiffness,

A family weak in the knees, struggling with

Achy bones and orthopedic shoes. At home

They live in a dither, unable to feed themselves.


2. Her No-frills Down-to-earth Role

“My debts are paid, my sights are set,

I exploit my reputation and career standing.

Seek all honors, praises, and loan approval,

But, I’m more reserved in relationships;

Derive certainty from lather and lashes.

If true love perks up from the underbrush

It‘ll be dressed in military camouflage.

But, I’ve got Ivy enough to climb any wall, 

Carnations enough to button-hole the world.

Saturday fever is concealed in my garnet.

Biting the bullet, plumb duct and sinker,

I wade into the harbor of hidden grudges.

I call ahead to make reservations for cold cuts.

If the past is used against my self-plotted career,

My home life will be destroyed. But I wonder,

Is there’s anything there to destroy?

My esteem is measured in control rod positions,

Honors and perpetual motion achieved by

The cold fusion that powers efficient engines.

I’m a melancholy babe, but material success

Puts my virtuoso on a too tight schedule,

I have only moments in which to produce

A light beyond mediocrity, time only to sketch out

A volume of moodish medleys, creating wows

By weaving the street song through the concert hall

Version of the once solemn and intellectual tome.

I may triumph until mid-life crisis, reaping reward,

And my career supercedes all promises and vows.


3. Her Dramatic Eye Kicker Close-Up

Your leadership savvy empowers the influential,

Influences the powerful with an Crawford stare.   

What complex irony has put you in charge?

Step by step you reach your end-time paradise,  

Its many mansions lonely, statuesque and mute.

You spy with an eye like that Monopoly guy,

A watch dollar monocle on the world’s economy.

A turn of mind so serious it inspires laughter,

Your cautious dealings, frozen till you wise up.

But your public loves your do’s and don’ts, the

way you go out of your way for those who won’t.

Jealous and resentful, you fool them, don’t you?

Disagree with siblings and relatives, hate to share.

Life MUST be meaningful, something’s missing,

Information’s lacking, there’s a flaw in the plan,

Poor-me, you end up doing things the hard way.

An Insecure timid child, authority comes late in life,

A thorn-bird of inner nature, seeking happiness.

Not interested in wild theories, but in practical apps.

Empirical, seeking the useful, the practical way,

The bling that changes the way things are done.

You follow a ghost with a task to be fulfilled,

Obsess on a single hope, enlist that one idea

And suffer a gothic depression when it fails.

You know what the public wants and pursue it

Like a speeding car behind the ambulance.

Driven to know the right people, risking scandal,

Your footprint shows on the neck of the world.

Be careful of the soft shoulders of working gals,

Or secretarial pool, for you may be condemned 

To endure shame or heartbreak caused by women.


4. Her Ever-changing Re-inventions

A fear of loneliness is exceeded only by

Your dry sense of humor, and hidden depth.

As a child you were shy, gullible, generous,

Meek and mild, a wouldn’t-hurt-a-fly baby.

Was it traveling carnivals, a trampoline act,

What turned you into a go-ballistic enterprise?

The invisible woman, clear plastic makeover,

Your public eats caviar, your family eats pb&j.

Do your feelings match your sturdy firewalls?

Is there a proprietary secret key to your heart?

Do you have a restless urge to research that

Distorted fantasy about your childhood? And

Must you always reinvent, constantly tighten

That wide, circus-grade safety net you use?

©Jimmy Warner, 2016


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