Scary and Fun Halloween Dinner Recipes:
http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/2107065/scary_and_fun_halloween_dinner_recipes.html?cat=22
10/24/11
Morsels Hung On Hooks - Halloweeny 13 Myna Birds
The new Halloweeny Thirteen Myna Birds is now live!
Featuring darkly delicious oodles by Bonnie MacAllister, Tiffany Midge, David Greenspan, Eleanor Leonne Bennett, Paul David Adkins, Kari Larsen, & John Rocco - this issue has SIXTEEN scrumptious offerings:
http://13myna.blogspot.com/
a puddle of thick pink - some would call this puddle a flood - a hot house exertion - a little bit demonic - a carnival of wasp stingers - thrashing on a carousel – pompoms bursting – floating ghost - packed to slats with pillaged finery - drowned in the foam – the apertures pearl with blood – plummet beyond sound - peek inside…
***
Here is a delightful note about this Thirteen Myna Birds update from one of it poets, David Greenspan:
"I have two poems up in the Halloween issue of Thirteen Myna Birds. Thirteen Myna Birds is the brain-child of Juliet Cook, who seems to have a book out on every press ever. She rocks and her journal is pretty cool. Dark, very dark....The lay out of the journal is rad. They have thirteen (sixteen for Halloween) pieces, ordered from thirteen to one. When a new piece is published, the piece numbered one gets pushed off the journal. Keeps things temporary, urgent maybe? Read my poems here while you can. http://13myna.blogspot.com/. "
(I sure as heck don't have a book out from every press ever, but reading that amuses me greatly; haha.)
AND here is an oddly amusingly fun snippet from another of this updates poets, Kari Larsen, re: Thirteen Myna Birds and Twin Peaks:
"Speaking of Juliet Cook's killer Thirteen Myna Birds, the new issue is celebrating Halloween with three poems from Say you're a fiction! Thirteen Myna Birds is a Twin Peaks reference. My best friend Clare is being Laura Palmer for Halloween."
(I wonder if Kari Larsen knows that my very first print poetry chapbook was inspired by Laura Palmer - http://www.etsy.com/listing/58029753/halloween-lynchian-the-laura-poems-by
Featuring darkly delicious oodles by Bonnie MacAllister, Tiffany Midge, David Greenspan, Eleanor Leonne Bennett, Paul David Adkins, Kari Larsen, & John Rocco - this issue has SIXTEEN scrumptious offerings:
http://13myna.blogspot.com/
a puddle of thick pink - some would call this puddle a flood - a hot house exertion - a little bit demonic - a carnival of wasp stingers - thrashing on a carousel – pompoms bursting – floating ghost - packed to slats with pillaged finery - drowned in the foam – the apertures pearl with blood – plummet beyond sound - peek inside…
***
Here is a delightful note about this Thirteen Myna Birds update from one of it poets, David Greenspan:
"I have two poems up in the Halloween issue of Thirteen Myna Birds. Thirteen Myna Birds is the brain-child of Juliet Cook, who seems to have a book out on every press ever. She rocks and her journal is pretty cool. Dark, very dark....The lay out of the journal is rad. They have thirteen (sixteen for Halloween) pieces, ordered from thirteen to one. When a new piece is published, the piece numbered one gets pushed off the journal. Keeps things temporary, urgent maybe? Read my poems here while you can. http://13myna.blogspot.com/. "
(I sure as heck don't have a book out from every press ever, but reading that amuses me greatly; haha.)
AND here is an oddly amusingly fun snippet from another of this updates poets, Kari Larsen, re: Thirteen Myna Birds and Twin Peaks:
"Speaking of Juliet Cook's killer Thirteen Myna Birds, the new issue is celebrating Halloween with three poems from Say you're a fiction! Thirteen Myna Birds is a Twin Peaks reference. My best friend Clare is being Laura Palmer for Halloween."
(I wonder if Kari Larsen knows that my very first print poetry chapbook was inspired by Laura Palmer - http://www.etsy.com/listing/58029753/halloween-lynchian-the-laura-poems-by
10/21/11
paranoia/poetry
I seem to be experiencing a bit of a paranoid streak, especially about people suddenly/unexpectedly losing interest in me - and how am I to know when that might happen or why?
Perhaps this is semi-related to being a semi-recently divorced woman who feels emotionally uncertain about love and even about significant relationships - but who really craves love and an intense relationship with the right individual- but who knows that even longterm love and intensity might suddenly/unexpectedly ebb.
It worries me (maybe too much) if someone I am involved with and feel strongly about seems to suddenly diverge from frequent, intense correspondence to less frequent, intense correspondence. He might just be having an odd spell or a small episode of a bad series of days, BUT it makes me wonder if I somehow unexpectedly managed to turn him off. If so, I wish he would tell me why/how, instead of just keeping it to himself.
Even if I didn't do anything that turned him off; even if less correspondence is not related to lack of interest, I also don't want a man I feel super-strongly and intensely about to be one of those sorts who turns it down after he thinks he's gotten a woman who really likes him. I would much rather have a man who turns it up up UP as the relationship gets more significant.
I do seem to have a paranoid streak about relationships suddenly/unexpectedly ending and this fused with my insecurity issues might make me a tough woman to deal with for many men. But I don't want many men - and I don't want a man who wants many women. I want a special, creative, darkly delicious morsel of a man who truly wants me back & forth and who often tries his best to convince me of such.
I seem to be worrying too much about possible ebbings instead of focusing on wonderfully positive presents.
Please don't give up.
******
Here is a poem from my Thirteen Designer Vaginas chapbook -
Designer Vagina
I got sucked into a black hole
of sensation, tied up with pretty pink rib-
bon. I need to find out if I’m tightly bound
or decorated; intact or slaveringly masticated
bonbon. Inside my designer gift box,
am I tied down or am I a good time release
capsule? If he doesn’t deserve the present;
if he’s stuck in his desire for the past, then should I
wish to be unwrapped by someone who is wishing for me?
All these frills and frayed edges don’t come cheap
I read that piece at a very fun-filled poetry reading I participated in this past weekend with my scrumpdelicious poet friend Margaret Bashaar. We each read several of our own poems plus a poem from each other's chapbook, published by each of our small presses.
So Marg. read one of my poems from my Thirteen Designer Vagina's, published by her Hyacinth Girl Press (available here - http://www.etsy.com/listing/77707618/thirteen-designer-vaginas-by-juliet-cook)
And I read a poem from her Letters From Room 27 of the Grand Midway Hotel, published by my Blood Pudding Press (available here - http://www.etsy.com/listing/82732178/halloween-horror-poetry-letters-from)
I wish I had some photos from the reading, but alas!
I was also wonderfully thrilled that my exceptionally special yumfest PoetJoe attended the reading and spent time with me afterwords. Later this month, the two of us will be having all kinds of darkly delicious fun during a horror film fest weekend. Yay!
I hope he can handle my insecure/paranoid streaks and does not grow overly fed up and tired of me.
Perhaps this is semi-related to being a semi-recently divorced woman who feels emotionally uncertain about love and even about significant relationships - but who really craves love and an intense relationship with the right individual- but who knows that even longterm love and intensity might suddenly/unexpectedly ebb.
It worries me (maybe too much) if someone I am involved with and feel strongly about seems to suddenly diverge from frequent, intense correspondence to less frequent, intense correspondence. He might just be having an odd spell or a small episode of a bad series of days, BUT it makes me wonder if I somehow unexpectedly managed to turn him off. If so, I wish he would tell me why/how, instead of just keeping it to himself.
Even if I didn't do anything that turned him off; even if less correspondence is not related to lack of interest, I also don't want a man I feel super-strongly and intensely about to be one of those sorts who turns it down after he thinks he's gotten a woman who really likes him. I would much rather have a man who turns it up up UP as the relationship gets more significant.
I do seem to have a paranoid streak about relationships suddenly/unexpectedly ending and this fused with my insecurity issues might make me a tough woman to deal with for many men. But I don't want many men - and I don't want a man who wants many women. I want a special, creative, darkly delicious morsel of a man who truly wants me back & forth and who often tries his best to convince me of such.
I seem to be worrying too much about possible ebbings instead of focusing on wonderfully positive presents.
Please don't give up.
******
Here is a poem from my Thirteen Designer Vaginas chapbook -
Designer Vagina
I got sucked into a black hole
of sensation, tied up with pretty pink rib-
bon. I need to find out if I’m tightly bound
or decorated; intact or slaveringly masticated
bonbon. Inside my designer gift box,
am I tied down or am I a good time release
capsule? If he doesn’t deserve the present;
if he’s stuck in his desire for the past, then should I
wish to be unwrapped by someone who is wishing for me?
All these frills and frayed edges don’t come cheap
I read that piece at a very fun-filled poetry reading I participated in this past weekend with my scrumpdelicious poet friend Margaret Bashaar. We each read several of our own poems plus a poem from each other's chapbook, published by each of our small presses.
So Marg. read one of my poems from my Thirteen Designer Vagina's, published by her Hyacinth Girl Press (available here - http://www.etsy.com/listing/77707618/thirteen-designer-vaginas-by-juliet-cook)
And I read a poem from her Letters From Room 27 of the Grand Midway Hotel, published by my Blood Pudding Press (available here - http://www.etsy.com/listing/82732178/halloween-horror-poetry-letters-from)
I wish I had some photos from the reading, but alas!
I was also wonderfully thrilled that my exceptionally special yumfest PoetJoe attended the reading and spent time with me afterwords. Later this month, the two of us will be having all kinds of darkly delicious fun during a horror film fest weekend. Yay!
I hope he can handle my insecure/paranoid streaks and does not grow overly fed up and tired of me.
10/5/11
EVERY MONTH COUNTS
I woke up bleeding - the first of two periods I will be getting this month (the second will happen right before Halloween). Feeling better today now that the PMS has abated (this time's PMS, in addition to making me feel sad, also made me feel obsessive compulsive - about weird tidying and organizing and poeming).
A friend of mine sent me an online note last night, mentioning that he wished he would have seen me more in 2011 - which made me think something like, 'Um hello mister. Do three months not really mean much? Do three months not really count? Because 2011 still has three months left within it.'
Which then got me thinking that if 2011 is already almost over by some people's standards, then it would also already be almost two years since my carotid artery dissection/aneurisms/stroke/aphasia - and almost one year (same day) since my divorce.
2011 is NOT almost over by my standards; three months sure move fast (whole years sure move fast too) but are still a substantial amount of time - and who know what could happen? I sure don't like thinking/acting as if whole months of time barely even exist. I don't like moving too fast; but I also don't like moving way too slow. After all, nobody knows exactly how much time they have remaining. One month might feel like almost nothing or very substantial or a fusion of both. For me, every month feels/is substantial and important in its own odd way.
On a semi-related note, I felt a bit annoyed recently when a young male friend of mine informed me that I was almost 40. Hello, I will be turning 39 this month, dingbat. I don't think most women who will soon be turning 39, but have not yet, desire to be called 'almost 40', as if a whole year barely even exists! This seems to indicate that whole months barely even exist all the way up to twelve months! Stop talking/acting like that in front of me! I don't like it!
It all exists people. It all exists in one way or another. Don't act as if nothing really/truely matters much; not even your/my/our remaining time. Don't continually waste time and then be surprised by what you might suddenly lose (you/me/us) - because maybe it's not that sudden if you have been wasting time and ignoring things for months upon months.
I exist. My life exists. My ups & downs exist. My whitening hair exists. My weird poetry modes exist. My 38 soon to turn 39 (but not almost 40 yet) age exists. Every inch of my remaining time still exists. My strong desire to be passionate and productive still exists and will for the rest of my life (despite occassional zoned-out modes).
I still have trouble with math, shapes, sizes, cooking directions, and lots of easy little words (and I'm not going to stop talking about those difficulties as though they no longer exist, because they certainly do) - and maybe that's going to be my brain for the rest of my life now (and I wonder if it is partially my own fault. did I maybe not focus on the right kind of therapy enough? did I not try hard enough in certain regards? did I focus on the wrong things?) - and sometimes that really does trouble me, upset me, stress me out, and make me a feel a bit oddly inferior. But I'm alive, I exist, I have strengths. I sure have annoying spelling issues though, for someone who used to be a great speller. Did I spell inferior wrong? I'm not sure. My mind had a title for this blog entry, but I couldn't spell several of the words, so as of right now, it has know title, and I'll probably think of a different one.
The title WAS going to be Bloody Wailing Banche - except that the second and third words are probably spelled wrong. Is it Wailing or Waleing or neither of those? Is it Banche or Banshe or Banshee or none of those? Is it Whaling or Whaleing or Whale-ing? I don't know. I'll stop. But speaking of one kind of Whale, I'm quite delighted that my poem 'Sink or Float [quick fix witch]' made number 14 of this fabulous Whale Sound Top 20 list. Yay!
http://whalesound.wordpress.com/2011/10/03/top-20-whale-sound-posts/
A friend of mine sent me an online note last night, mentioning that he wished he would have seen me more in 2011 - which made me think something like, 'Um hello mister. Do three months not really mean much? Do three months not really count? Because 2011 still has three months left within it.'
Which then got me thinking that if 2011 is already almost over by some people's standards, then it would also already be almost two years since my carotid artery dissection/aneurisms/stroke/aphasia - and almost one year (same day) since my divorce.
2011 is NOT almost over by my standards; three months sure move fast (whole years sure move fast too) but are still a substantial amount of time - and who know what could happen? I sure don't like thinking/acting as if whole months of time barely even exist. I don't like moving too fast; but I also don't like moving way too slow. After all, nobody knows exactly how much time they have remaining. One month might feel like almost nothing or very substantial or a fusion of both. For me, every month feels/is substantial and important in its own odd way.
On a semi-related note, I felt a bit annoyed recently when a young male friend of mine informed me that I was almost 40. Hello, I will be turning 39 this month, dingbat. I don't think most women who will soon be turning 39, but have not yet, desire to be called 'almost 40', as if a whole year barely even exists! This seems to indicate that whole months barely even exist all the way up to twelve months! Stop talking/acting like that in front of me! I don't like it!
It all exists people. It all exists in one way or another. Don't act as if nothing really/truely matters much; not even your/my/our remaining time. Don't continually waste time and then be surprised by what you might suddenly lose (you/me/us) - because maybe it's not that sudden if you have been wasting time and ignoring things for months upon months.
I exist. My life exists. My ups & downs exist. My whitening hair exists. My weird poetry modes exist. My 38 soon to turn 39 (but not almost 40 yet) age exists. Every inch of my remaining time still exists. My strong desire to be passionate and productive still exists and will for the rest of my life (despite occassional zoned-out modes).
I still have trouble with math, shapes, sizes, cooking directions, and lots of easy little words (and I'm not going to stop talking about those difficulties as though they no longer exist, because they certainly do) - and maybe that's going to be my brain for the rest of my life now (and I wonder if it is partially my own fault. did I maybe not focus on the right kind of therapy enough? did I not try hard enough in certain regards? did I focus on the wrong things?) - and sometimes that really does trouble me, upset me, stress me out, and make me a feel a bit oddly inferior. But I'm alive, I exist, I have strengths. I sure have annoying spelling issues though, for someone who used to be a great speller. Did I spell inferior wrong? I'm not sure. My mind had a title for this blog entry, but I couldn't spell several of the words, so as of right now, it has know title, and I'll probably think of a different one.
The title WAS going to be Bloody Wailing Banche - except that the second and third words are probably spelled wrong. Is it Wailing or Waleing or neither of those? Is it Banche or Banshe or Banshee or none of those? Is it Whaling or Whaleing or Whale-ing? I don't know. I'll stop. But speaking of one kind of Whale, I'm quite delighted that my poem 'Sink or Float [quick fix witch]' made number 14 of this fabulous Whale Sound Top 20 list. Yay!
http://whalesound.wordpress.com/2011/10/03/top-20-whale-sound-posts/
10/1/11
more positive, lovely, bloody, poetic & more more more (bloody or not, here I come)
Earlier today I was working on writing this more positive post to place above my negative blog post below - had been working on it for quite some time, was almost done, & was just about to post it. I had 'saved' it numerous times. Then I tried to add a youtube song to it, 'Black Cherry' by Goldfrapp, right before posting it and this caused my entire saved post to delete itself and disappear. WTF?
That made me feel pissed off and negative again for a small to medium spell, but I shall now try again! Maybe the Black Cherry song was too outdated and negative, so I shall quit that part and mention that yesterday I fused some Black Raspberry soda pop with Black Raspberry ice cream for a little dessert-esque sip, thanks to a friend of mine's suggestion. Yay.
That made me feel pissed off and negative again for a small to medium spell, but I shall now try again! Maybe the Black Cherry song was too outdated and negative, so I shall quit that part and mention that yesterday I fused some Black Raspberry soda pop with Black Raspberry ice cream for a little dessert-esque sip, thanks to a friend of mine's suggestion. Yay.
And today's the first day of October - and I have quite liked October for many years - dare I say it is my favorite month? I do feel a tiny bit hesitant about saying so, since it used to be my wedding anniversary month and now I am divorced, but that doesn't mean October must go downhill forevermore. It's my birthday month and I sure like the number 9 better than the number 8 - although maybe I kind of wish there was a 2 in front of the 9, instead of a 3; egads!
Better than my age is the fact that my birthday weekend will involve a fun poetry reading event with a wonderful friend of mine (I will add a link to this event below). I will also get my hair cut and dye it a deep burgundy hue, which another extra-special, yummy, fabulous poet friend of mine will enjoy seeing and touching - and I can hardly wait to see him twice this month, as well as possibly seeing another female poet friend of mine too.
One of the times I shall be seeing him as for a Horror Film fest event (several days long) in his neck of the woods - and so maybe it makes some sort of strange, spooky, horror-ific sense that I'm supposed to be getting my period TWICE this month. Talk about a pre-Halloween blood bath of horror. I just hope I don't have some weird seizure thingee happen during the poetry reading event - but if I do, at least I hope to spurt out some more pre-Halloween blood stuff.
It shall be a busy, fun, creative, sexy (bloody or not, here I come) sort of month, brimming with friends, poets, darkly delicious colors, gorgeous fall weather, and more. I shall finish a Halloween poem. I shall publish other people's Halloween poems on Thirteen Myna Birds. I shall hear some good news about my second mini-full length poetry book (for real). I shall add special little creepy yummy design treats to Blood Pudding Press poetry chapbooks purchased this month - so buy one from my etsy shop (or buy other odd Halloween ephemera) here:http://www.etsy.com/shop/BloodPuddingPress?section_id=10388961
More information about the October poetry reading event here:http://hyacinthgirlpress.wordpress.com/2-by-4-reading-series/
More more more creepy yummy content coming later.
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