DOPPELGANGRENE

Springy Poeticism Times TWO!

2012-01-31T23:18:00.005-05:00

Even though my day started out a bit rough and tumble (see blog post below this one), it wonderfully improved as soon as I visited online and found out that TWO different new online poetry magazines went live today with my poetry inside their creative goodie bags. Yay!

A NEW Certain Circuits with one of my new poems here (click on my blood red hair):

http://certaincircuits.tumblr.com/

A NEW Lingerpost with one of my new poems AND one by PoetJoe H. Gallagher & me here:

http://lingerpost.org/?page_id=69

I'm thrilled I'm still writing and being published (and also publishing others - and on that note, a new Thirteen Myna Birds will be coming soon PLUS another poetic Valentine treat - stay tuned).

Broken Springs

2012-01-31T22:59:00.003-05:00

It was a gorgeous springy day today weather-wise, but…

I seemed to be having a broken springs/tainted strings mish mash associated with my brain.

I’ve recently gotten on a friend of mine’s case a few times about too frequently using the word “broken” to describe himself/his brain, but my brain sure felt broken earlier today.

It was a tough morning for me in terms of a number of easy little things being overly difficult. I used to be detail oriented and good at remembering things in advance, but now I’m not good at remembering details – so if anyone expects me to quickly get something done at the last minute (without finding out about it, remembering it, and planning for it in advance), chances are I might have a stressed out little explosion – and unfortunately, they’ll be stuck in the middle of my explosive devises too. Not that those explosive devises will be lashing out at THEM, mind you – but they’ll sure hear me lashing out at myself and calling my brain inept and screwed up and disappointing.

Trying to quickly get something done at the last minute (without advance notice and planning in advance time) stresses my brain into shredded threads that don’t like themselves, don’t appreciate themselves, and focus too much on their weaknesses instead of their strengths.

This morning, I got all stressed out because at the last minute I was attempting to fill out a piece of paperwork that should have been easy, but wasn’t – because I can’t remember my dog’s age, his date or month of birth, what vet appointments/treatments he might need, nor where the heck I put the past paperwork that might offer me such information. I used to be good at all of that stuff (as well as other forms of organization); now I am not. I certainly don’t want my dog to suffer from a too-early demise due to my disabled brain strands.

Then from their I got to thinking about how frequently I seem to lose things ‘cuz I can’t remember where the heck I put them when I was attempting to organize them (from my calculator to my assortment of googly eyes that I wanted to use for making some homemade Valentine cards to much more). Then I got upset (not at HER; at ME) when my little niece stepped into my art room and blurted out that it was the messiest room she’s ever seen – which is probably because I’m frequently having to unpack boxes in order to try to find things AND some boxes I don’t even bother unpacking/organizing into a particular space in the first place, ‘cuz then I’ll soon forget where I put those.

It seems like every time I make a substantial and time-consuming effort to organize my space, I then forget the details of my organization by the next day – and I don’t want to have a messy, unorganized space – but I also don’t want to have a neat, organized space that involves unpacking multiple boxes and searching for things on a frequent basis. Both ways cause me to feel bothered and troubled by my seemingly inept brain.

In case you think I’m exaggerating about my broke strings and mutilated brain waves, consider this. I’ve now been living in my newish space for more than seven months and I still haven’t memorized my address. I have it written down and have to look at that piece of writing every time I need to write it down somewhere else.

I know I need to focus on the positive not the negative, but sometimes (like this morning), I have an episode where it really bothers me that I used to have strong memorization skills and be a fast-moving individual; but now I’m more of a slow-moving, unorganized mess, whose brain sometimes can’t remember easy things yet is frequently popping out all kinds of random things and weird things and big bizarre words.

On the plus side, at least I can use some of those big bizarre words as part of my poetry content – and that’s definitely a pretty awesome plus side, as far as I’m concerned. In fact, in mere minutes, I shall post a positive, poetry-oriented blog entry above this negative little spurt.

Blah

2012-01-29T21:30:00.003-05:00

Have felt overly tired all day long and feel upset and dissapointed in myself for not having a very productive day. Gave my dog a bath and I feel as if that's the only thing I really accomplished today. The bottom of my feet are bothering me, which is my own damn falt for having a semi-obsessive compulsive (and big time wasting) event for hours yesterday peeling gross dry skin off them. Feel like I'm looking old and ugly and having another little grey/white hair explosion.

So fucking tired I finally decided to take a little half hour nap circa 7:00-7:30 and then get up, make coffee and dinner, work on stuff. Instead my nap ended up lasting until 8:30 - I still felt just as tired (maybe even more tired) when I forced myself up - and I didn't feel hungry but I can't not eat, so I started cooking some salmon and ended up burning it. I am not a good cook. Blah.

Still feeling overly tired and like giving up for the day and going back to bed, but I guess I'll force feed myself a little more, keep my hands off the bottoms of my feet, and try to work on a few things. Still though, my overly tired and slow spell today (and also maybe PMS starting up) is making me feel like a rather worthless time-wasting loser. I hate feeling unproductive.

Lady Gaga’s fake blood baths would be better if they weren’t spewing out of a clichéd mouthpiece

2012-01-26T13:57:00.010-05:00

I think that Lady Gaga’s music has bland, generic (and to me annoyingly meaningless) pop lyrics, which is the main reason I do not understand why she seems to appeal to so many poets. Personality wise, I think she comes across as an oddball/cheese ball fusion (not that there's anything wrong with that), but not in a poetically creative way. Poetry is a form of unique, artistic verbal communications, not unique, artistic personal dress styles.

I’m not anti-pop, mind you – but I’m surely not a fan of overly clichéd words – which are not poetic in any way that I can fathom or that makes interesting sense to me. Frankly, her blah bland clichéd lyrics annoy the shit out of my poetic sensibilities.

Fellow poets, please feel free to try to help me understand her appeal based on WORDS.

She LOOKS interesting, but how strongly does that relate to poetic sensibility or content? Not much at all, as far as I’m concerned, if the interestingly dressed person can’t also create words as powerfully unique as their attire.

Furthermore, how do we know that she even chose her own look or did so for creative reasons, rather than money making reasons? What if it’s not even her personal style, so much as an odd marketing scheme that ended up working? If it is her own genuine quirky flare, then what’s the explanation for video of her as a singer, in which she looks more normal, before she changed her name to Lady Gaga? If she wasn’t really “born this way”, then what made her normal style suddenly turn more oddball?

If those are indeed her own unique oddball artsy design choices, she sure looks interesting, but how the heck does that relate to her clichéd lyrics; in which most of the lines sound high school level and like lines I’ve heard thousands of times; what is the poetic appeal of that blah blah blah riff raff?

It seems like I’ve heard many comments that speak favorably about Lady Gaga for looking attractive in her own non-traditional way – and yes, she has an oddly appealing gender-fluidity about her look – but she still has a model-like body type, which I think makes her less uniquely/oddly interesting than other singers who look less traditionally attractive than Gaga.

Especially when those other singers who look less traditionally attractive than Gaga also have their own uniquely interesting design styles PLUS offer much more interestingly creative and/or in depth lyrics. Peaches and Beth Ditto of the Gossip almost immediately pop out of my mind and I’m sure there are others too. So what makes Lady Gaga stand out as seeming super-duper special?

I do think people tend to focus on appearance and unusual dress styles too much, both overly positively and overly negatively. In terms of overly negative focus in that regard, it’s nice to have someone go out of their way to stand out and be themselves, BUT tons of people do that; it’s really nothing majorly different or vastly new to exhibit a ‘be yourself and let me be myself’ vibe. Don’t get me wrong; I think it’s a good vibe; but I don’t think it’s anything phenomenally new or different – and I also don’t think it equates to performance art – even if spewing fake blood is part of your looks based performance (although I will admit, that’s my favorite part of any Gaga performance I’ve ever seen; but it’s not incredibly unique; Peaches has been doing that for years).

Yes some people still seem to have too much of a tendency to be uncomfortable with/make fun of odd dress styles way too much, so it’s good to see strong/powerful/confident people feel free to express via their own chosen style, no matter what anyone else might think; even if people think they look like a bit of a freak show, so what? Be yourself. Dressing/acting the way one truly wants to is a good and powerful thing. BUT that goodness and self-empowerment (and possible empowerment of others too) does not equal extreme super powers or incredibly unique performance art, in my opinion. I think it equals a personal style-oriented confidence whether or not overly insecure people are overly flabbergasted by the matter.

Even if some people do consider Gaga to be an interesting/inspirational performance artist, I still don’t understand how that appeals to poetic sensibilities, especially if her performance art is being enacted in the midst of clichéd lyrics. Am I missing something here?

I don’t despise her music; I think she has a good voice. I’m not saying I dislike her look; it’s fun and oddly interesting. I’m just saying I don’t understand the appeal on any in-depth artistic/poetic level. I can understand how she might inspire different looking/acting teens/young adults to feel more comfortable/confident about themselves (which is a good thing); but I can’t understand how she inspires adults, especially writers. When someone’s primary form of expression is much more LOOKS based than WORDS based, how/why does that inspire word-based individuals?

Several years ago, I remember hearing a lot of positive buzz about Lady Gaga and her uniqueness. I had not heard any of her music yet, but based on the feedback I’d heard, I imagined it would be pretty interesting and different, both visually AND lyrically. Thus the first time I heard her sing her Paparazzi song live on Saturday Night Live, I was quite confused by her poetic appeal. I heard a Madonna like voice and cheesy repetitive pop lyrics. I felt like I’d heard the song countless times before, even though this was my first time hearing it. I thought Gaga looked semi-interesting and semi-sexy, but nothing so incredibly new and different that it drew me in deeply or empowered me or inspired me in any way. I’ve sense seen a few more artsy performances of hers, but not a single one has ever come anywhere close to inspiring or thrilling me.

In fact, she sometimes annoys me, seeming to come across with such a full-of herself, look-oriented vibe – because even if someone’s style looks different and interesting and oddly artsy, I find it irksome when someone’s primary interest seems to be the way they look. I am not uninterested in appearance and style, but I am far more interested in complex, intense, word-based forms of personal (and larger scale) expression.

Mind you, I am the type of woman who thinks that ultimately everyone should be able to dress however they desire to dress, even if their style seems over the top, absurd, or ridiculous by other people’s standards. One’s style should be their own and should not have to fit main stream sensibilities. Still though, that doesn’t mean I want to hear someone blabbing on & on & on about their appearance – the way I heard Gaga blabbing on & on about her fake hair during a televised Thanksgiving special of hers I started watching out of curiosity. The special seemed primarily focused on her looks, cover songs, and her goofball blabbing – until her overly lengthy hair blabbing episode struck me as so annoyingly, ridiculously full of herself that I had to change the channel. I’m the type of woman who sometimes feels like I focus too much on my own appearance, so if I have to change the channel because I think another woman is being way too appearance oriented for my liking, then she must be pretty darn full of herself.

Why/how did looks-based Lady Gaga inspire an online literary magazine called Gaga Stigmata? I like the name of that lit mag and am a big fan of quirky specific lit mags with content based on whatever the editors choose to base it upon (and I am also a fan of founding editor Kate Durbin’s style AND much of her poetry; she LOOKS interesting AND can sure write much better/more uniquely than Lady Gaga). For a while, I thought about submitting to that magazine, because it seemed like a uniquely interesting publication. However, then I got to thinking more about it – and wondering how the heck I would write a Lady Gaga inspired poem – because nothing about her inspires me in a particularly powerful positive or negative way and I’m not about to fake it. I personally don’t really agree with the lit mag’s description of Lady Gaga as a “shock pop phenomenon”. I mean her looks and fake blood might shock SOME people, because some people are easily shocked, but they sure don’t shock me (and I don’t imagine they would shock many other poets/artists) – and her lyrics bore me and irk me, so I sure don’t find her phenomenal in that regard. Maybe her popularity could be interpreted as oddly phenomenal. Perhaps the oddness of her mass-appeal is the combination of cheesy pop lyrics with weird over the top artsy style – but again, she is sure not the first to have that kind of style, so what makes her seem different enough to stand out so much, including to some unique poets?

If any of Gaga’s lyrics were submitted as a poem to my literary magazine, they would swiftly and easily be rejected. Would any of you other poets publish any of her lyrics within your online or print literary publication? What if bland, clichéd words were submitted alongside a bizarrely dressed photo of the writer? Would that make her a better writer? How can an odd, artsy appearance change bland, boring words into poetry or poetic inspiration?

Not to get way overly repetitive here in terms of my confused little ramblings on this matter, but can another poet please try to help me understand Gaga’s poetic appeal? I’m not anti-pop (although I definitely dislike lots of cliché); I think she has a good voice; I think she has a fun and interesting visual appeal; but how the heck does that relate to poetry or make her stand out as someone special to poets?

small snippet (perception)

2012-01-24T23:05:00.008-05:00

Had a lot of trouble sleeping this past week, which means I sometimes popped up and jotted down notes. Here's a small one (coming soon is a longer one I wrote after semi-randomly thinking about Lady Gaga):

I think there are certain things/experiences/people that happen within our lives that we are going to continue to remember for a long time, maybe even forever.

I hope I am one of those people within a few other people's remembrances and I hope the remembrance of me is a good one.

I hope I am not an overly disappointing, overly sad, overly stressful memory.

I hope I am not a blah, bland, neutral, whatever memory.

I hope I am a positive, powerful memory for someone - but one never knows exactly how anyone else perceives her.

Oddly enough, I know how some people perceive my poetry, but not how the non-poetry part of me is perceived.

A few notes related to my Blood Pudding Press

2012-01-15T22:20:00.002-05:00

Poems are often smaller than fiction or full-length quantity innards, but tend to be more intense and powerful, in word style oriented ways and emotionally speaking. A smaller, artsy hand-designed size for vaster mentally linked force fields creates an intense fusion, brimming with uniquely unusual powers.

Poems can be interpreted very differently by different readers; which makes the chapbook design process quite interesting. Poetry often relates to emotions, feelings, or other sorts of oddly intrinsic details, and sometimes tends to elicit visual sensations and artistic imagery within my brain.

Since the poets I choose to publish are poets whose work fits my style and sensibilities and whose poetry I feel strongly about, the publishing process tends to work well. If I published poetry that was not my style, that would be a lot tougher and less enjoyable and less passion-inducing and what would be the point of that?

There are so many different styles of poetry and poetry publishers, but I think most poets have poet friends, if not in person, ONLINE poet friends, and since some of your poet friends probably share stylistic similarities with you in terms of the kind of art they like and the kind of content that interests them, you're likely to receive hints and linkage that way.

Print publications can be a bit trickier than online publications in that you can conduct a lot of content oriented advance research of online publications, whereas with print ones, you can probably just see cover photos until you buy a chap or two - and you probably don't want to submit to a source whose style is not yours, both visually and content-wise.

Still though, a small press that would be a good fit for your stylistics has probably published a couple other poets you like and thus you can purchase a few of their chapbooks and/or trust them - or you can just take an interesting semi-risk.

Partake of some Blood Pudding Press offerings here:

http://www.etsy.com/shop/BloodPuddingPress

Read more about small press publishing here:

http://voices.yahoo.com/diy-poetry-publishing-power-2698564.html?cat=38

In addition to poetry, a zombie gnome!

2012-01-11T13:24:00.008-05:00

In addition to poetry chapbooks, Blood Pudding Press now has a hand-painted zombie gnome available for sale.

Yep that's right, I am in the midst of a little zombie gnome painting spree - and thought it might inspire another poet's writing too, so decided to offer one for sale in my Blood Pudding Press etsy shop.

Above are a few zombie gnome photos to take a peek at - and then if so inclined, you may visit the Blood Pudding Press etsy shop via the link below.

http://www.etsy.com/shop/BloodPuddingPress

YAY 2012 YAY!

2012-01-08T00:59:00.001-05:00

2012 seems to be off to a wonderful start for me.

Of course ever year/month/week has its odd little up & down snippets (& I soon might be temporarily infiltrated with my rather awful PMS mode), but this new year is still pretty darn fantabulous so far.

This past Friday was the second anniversary date of my carotid artery dissection/aneurisms/and stroke – and the first anniversary date of my divorce – and I can hardly believe how quickly/weirdly those two years passed by and how many things changed – and how much I still have trouble with easy little words and more. I think that lots of people might be tired of hearing about that stuff, but maybe that’s an overly negative thought process of mine – and I need to quit dwelling on people who tire of me, when there are other people who don’t.

This new year, I did not feel terribly bothered and upset by January 6, because my first part of 2012 is off to a wonderful start. I had a fun, creative friend to hang out with for New Years Eve night plus the next few days AND I sold oodles of poetry chapbooks. Yay! I sold six in a row at the end of 2011 and then nine so far this month - one to Australia, two to a ModCloth editor (who is going to photograph them and place those photos online next week) and six to a poet guy I’m friends with on fb. Less than one week into January, I had already sold more chaps than I usually sell within several different months, so 2012 is off to a delightful beginning!

I think that my first few days of January spent with a delicious creative interesting creature of delight and my small influx of January chapbook sales (and the related printing & designing) is a fun-filled hint that this January is going to be so much better than my last two Januaries! Also, it is pretty awesome to quickly start regenerating the money I spent on Xmas/Artmas gifts, so that soon I can start thinking about/getting ready to work on creating the NEXT Blood Pudding Press poetry chapbook! Plus focus on reading and writing more again!

On a different note - I am planning to paint a couple more zombie gnomes tomorrow. Yay!

On a very different note (and I don’t mean this negatively; it was just an odd thought process I had last night in bed) – in recent months, I semi-often feel badly about starting to look older and I even complain about that, sometimes blurting out something about how I look too middle aged. Well last night I realized that doesn’t make much sense to semi-insult myself that way, since I AM middle-aged. I guess I feel younger than I really am (and thus feel as if I ought to look younger), but the fact of the matter is, I am 39 – and 39 plus 39 equals 78, which is rather old – so I AM middle-aged – so why am I complaining about looking the way I really am as though it’s some icky insult?

Hmmm…

A Horrifically Lusty New Year from Thirteen Myna Birds!

2011-12-30T23:24:00.002-05:00

This newly updated peculiar action offers strange new lust morsels from Kelly Boyker, Emily Smith-Miller, Cheryl Anne Gardner, John Tustin, and Daniel G. Snethen – with two older morsels still remaining from PoetJoe H. Gallagher and David Greenspan.

Enjoy the creepy/sexy vibe if you dare.

Here's an odd little snippet fusing odd little snippets from each new poet included within the new Myna Birds fold.

ruffled duvets - dancing darkly on her string - dark veil over her eyes - nipples pressed hard against the plastic - waiting for your heart, creeping - shaving down the bone - glows as a pink star - small fires licking the floorboards - Will my eyes turn red?

Happy artsy yummy poetic New Year!

http://13myna.blogspot.com/

Post-Xmas/Post-Bad Dream

2011-12-28T21:53:00.003-05:00

EMPTY BLACK HOLES

2011-12-28T16:24:00.000-05:00

Another creepy dream from which I couldn’t awaken myself took place on Xmas.

I’d had a headache for most of the day, thus popped more ibuprofen than usual, since I didn’t want to feel too badly to be a part of my families holiday festivities. Heck, despite being prone to weird Xmas overloads to the point of too much stress, I got all my holiday shopping done for both kids and adults; I had even baked a special treat to add to the celebration; AND I had even started calling the day Artmas, in order to have more fun with the whole odd affair and how I might or might not fit into it. My over the top goth necklace and Dahlia eye shadow made me feel pretty creative that day.

Unfortunately though, my headache had gotten so bad by late evening, that as soon as I got back to my house from our families Xmas time celebrations, I had to lie down. Soon I was in the midst of a bad dream from which I attempted to awaken myself and thought I HAD awakened myself, but even though I thought I was awake, I couldn’t seem to open my eyes all the way. I walked up to my bedroom mirror and looked at myself and saw that my eyes were gone; I just had empty black holes.

After realizing I was still asleep, I tried to force myself up AGAIN, thought I had done so AGAIN, but still couldn’t open my eyes all the way, and still felt off kilter, oddly tired, and weirdly zoned out. I tried walking around in my bedroom, forcefully stomping my feet upon the floor to wake myself up better.

After realizing I was STILL asleep and not really walking/stomping, but still trapped shut eyed upon my own bed, I started to feel more stuck and scared; so I started to try calling my parents to help wake me up; but how could I use my phone or make them hear me when I was still in bed with my non-eyes closed?

When I FINALLY managed to wake up (STILL with a slight headache), I found myself wondering if I had possibly consumed too much nutmeg. Then I called my mom who suggested I’ve watched too many horror movies in my life and that’s why this is happening to me now. But my empty black eye holes weren’t even blood red. That might have made the dream more interesting. Instead they were eyeless black holes and I felt scared of being zoned out/trapped/stuck and unable to emerge from that dark mode.

Merry Creative Xmas with Poetry Morsels

2011-12-24T16:09:00.002-05:00

Morsel #1 - On the newly updated Galatea Resurrects appears my new review of the poetry book 'Compendium' by Kristina Marie Darling:

http://galatearesurrection17.blogspot.com/2011/12/compendium-by-kristina-marie-darling.html

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Morsel #2 - Is this small delicious new note upon Karen the Small Press Librarian's blog, offering a mini-threesome of reading recommendations by me - PLUS some wonderful comments by Karen about my newest poetry chapbook, Thirteen Designer Vaginas/published by Hyacinth Girl Press AND the latest Blood Pudding Press poetry chapbook, Letters From Room 27 of the Grand Midway Hotel by Margaret Bashaar.

http://karenslibraryblog.blogspot.com/2011/12/best-of-small-press-2011-day-72.html

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Merry Creative Xmas!

Snip, snip, pivot on oiled button mums.

XOXO. Juliet

Vampire Red on top me

2011-12-22T23:30:00.001-05:00

Happy Solstice! - With New Letters From Room 27 Review, New Pushcart Prize Nomination, & Socks!

2011-12-21T14:43:00.009-05:00

A new review of the Blood Pudding Press poetry chapbook, Letters From Room 27 of the Grand Midway Hotel by Margaret Bashaar now appears within Arsenic Lobster; thank you to Susan Yount.

(I was also utterly delighted by this little snip of the review, which calls me a poetic sock connoisseur; hee hee! "The chap is hand sewn by the gifted poet, editor and sock connoisseur, Juliet Cook. This is how you’ll know you’re reading love letters.")

Read the review here:

http://arseniclobster.magere.com/1review.html

After reading the review, if you would like to partake of the whole collection of the Letters, it can be purchased in its entirety, within my Blood Pudding Press etsy shop here:

http://www.etsy.com/listing/80737587/letters-from-room-27-of-the-grand-midway

Furthermore, in addition to creating this wonderful review, Arsenic Lobster has also nominated me for a Pushcart Prize! Click the link below to find out more about that:

http://arseniclobster.magere.com/1pushcart.html

Razzle dazzle slurptastic happy solstice!

2011-12-20T03:33:00.000-05:00

an infusion of xmas pizazz

2011-12-17T19:42:00.001-05:00

Envy-Inducing Stocking Stuffers for the Special Lady in Your Life:

http://voices.yahoo.com/envyinducing-stocking-stuffers-4609725.html?cat=46

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Five Delightful Nontraditional Xmas Celebration Ideas:

http://voices.yahoo.com/five-delightful-nontraditional-xmas-4668423.html?cat=74

Pre-Xmas Jitters and Pre-New Year Nervewracks

2011-12-11T19:42:00.017-05:00

December 12, 2011 (edited/revised this again, toned it down a little bit & shortened it, removed some overly worried bits & some stuff related to others)

Maybe Christmas should be a fun/good time, but this year it seems to be exemplifying my obsessive compulsiveness, imperfections, and feeling alone. I’ve completed my holiday shopping already, but now am feeling worried that maybe nobody will like what I chose for them. I’m in the midst of working on holiday cards and feeling similarly awkward about that too. Who do I send them to?

I love and appreciate my family, but I also have some uncomfortable feelings about family holiday time. It will probably be my mom & dad and their four daughters and me by myself – my sister A. with her husband and three kids and me by myself – my sister J. with her husband and three kids and me by myself – my sister N. with her partner and kid and me by myself. Me by myself, me by myself, me by myself – sitting there quietly and feeling like a worthless anti-social unwanted mess.

Mind you, just because part of me feels uncomfortable spending time with my family when I’m by myself, that doesn’t mean I don’t like my family. It means I don’t feel very comfortable being by myself in a crowd, in which I very well might be the only one who doesn’t have my own partner. I know that some people are perfectly fine with that; are quite comfortable about being alone in a crowd - and part of me wishes I was that type of person, but I am not. I much prefer one on one time or very small groups that involve personal conversation. I do not like being by myself in part of a group with nobody talking much to me personally. I feel like I’m just part of a weird ceiling fan or a boring table chair, just sitting there silently, like a piece of furniture without unique or interesting brain waves. Yes I’m still part of the group; but not a very exciting individual part – more like a random blob; a globular mishap.

On a semi-related note, in recent years, I’ve received a number of comments from my mom suggesting that I spend too much time online – AND in recent months, I’ve received a number of comments from her suggesting that I’ve had more social activity than ever in the last couple years of my life. Well I do spend a lot of time on my computer; some of it writing related; not online – although I also do spend more time online than the average person. More social activity in recent years is true also. However, much of that activity has taken place outside of my own state – or having people from other areas temporarily visit my space. I am not complaining about that or saying it is a bad thing; but part of what I AM saying/asking is how does my mom think I’ve met and gotten to know most of those friends of mine? I’ve met most of them online.

My mom has suggested I spend too much time online, share too much information online, and take too many risks along those lines – and yes, that is also true to a certain extent – every once in a while, I’ve made a regrettable mistake, starting to get to know the wrong kind of person. However, I sure don’t regret getting to know quite a few wonderful people and poets more personally by reading/writing to each other online.

There’s also the question of how else would I get to know people otherwise? I’m not saying I’m going out of my way to meet people online, because I’m definitely not at this point in time – but that is still a valid question. I don’t drive plus I live in a smallish town. I quite like and appreciate my personal space and I also like spending a significant amount of time by myself. But if I’m having a sad, lonely feeling spell, during which I might like to get out of my space for a bit and do something different and hang out with someone and socialize, unless I happen to have a friend visiting me from out of town, then who do I have to hang out with? Pretty much the only people I know who live in my neck of the woods are my mom & dad and one of my sisters. I certainly like them, but they have their own lifestyles to deal with. Aside from them, I do not have a single close friend that lives in this area.

Even though I was unpopular in high school, since I’m now back to living in that area it has crossed my mind many times to maybe attend one of the alumni special events that seem to be organized quite a bit; it might or might not be my cup of tea, but at this point I might be willing to give it a try. However, not only would I have to attend by myself; I’d also have to be dropped off and picked up by my mom or dad or sister, which might interfere with their own schedules AND would most likely make me feel rather weird and/or embarrassed.

So back to meeting or not meeting people online, how the heck else could I meet someone in this area? At the grocery store or some other regular public place? I don’t think so.

I don’t casually chat or socialize well in random large group settings (nor do I desire to do so); I also don’t feel very comfortable going places by myself. If there were poetry reading events in this area, that would probably be one sort of situation that I would feel comfortable attending and sitting by myself for; if I could GET there by myself (because I would be sitting and paying attention to someone read/perform/express; rather than sitting alone and awkward in a place where other people are in groups and I’m probably looking anti-social or stuck up or something). Aside from that, maybe I’m failing to think of something that I ought to be able to think of, but I cannot quickly/easily think of any type of setting or event in this area that I could do by myself/easily get to & from by myself/ and interact with some new people I might be interested in and vice versa.

Part of me thinks that my family members probably PREFER me being by myself, because maybe they don’t like my taste in partners and various sociable risks I might make; maybe they would like me to feel like I’m BETTER by myself; but how would any of them feel being by themselves at this point in their lives? If someone like my mom tells me she would be fine with that, I don’t really believe her – not because I think she’s a liar, but because she has been with her partner since they were in high school, so how would she KNOW?

Also, I tend to be better at expressing myself in writing as opposed to in person, which is another significant reason why I really like communicating with people online to get to know them better and find out how we vibe; how we might connect with each other or not. Does that have some possible risk factors? Yes but a lot of things do. Besides, does anyone in my family really want to read any of my longer writings, whether they are poetic, artsy, neurotic, or rather negative like this piece? Probably not. I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with my family members because of that; what I’m saying is I desire someone to hear/read/be interested in and/or relate to my over-the-top expressions – so I will write and write and write and hope that someone is. Heck, even when I was a married woman, I talked to a lot of friends online then too. I wasn’t making in-person plans with other people at that time, since I had a partner - but since my partner was not into poetry, I got into doing most of my poetry stuff online.

About poetry activity, I am quite happy that I’ve actually been able to attend and participate in quite a few poetry readings (and related creative events) in recent years - but none of those events took place in this neck of the woods plus I don’t have any family members/friends here who would be very interested in attending one with me – so unless I am out of town or have a friend visiting me from out of town, pretty much all of my poetry connections and interactions are still going to take place online.

Not that this is anyone’s fault (except for my own) or that I am upset at anyone (except for myself) about this next tidbit, but I did feel rather upset that a close friend of mine had a poetry reading this past Friday evening and I couldn’t attend. He attended my last poetry reading in Pittsburgh in October, which was about two hours away from him. His reading Friday night was about two hours away from me, but I can’t drive and don’t have any poetry friends in my area, so... I’m not making a huge deal out of that, but it certainly did cross my mind and make me feel badly.

On the plus side, the day after that, one thing that always makes me feel better is when a literary magazine accepts a few of my poems – and yesterday one of my own poems AND one collaborative piece by him & me were accepted and shall soon be published within Lingerpost. I got quite excited about that yesterday, but then today the negative part of my brain started thinking that I might be more excited about that then he is; that I probably tend to get more excited (AND more upset) about little things than most people do and who really cares and what is the point and blah blah blah. (Still though, at least it significantly improved my mood for a few hours).

Overall, I wish I felt more confident about myself and what was going on in my life, but I don’t – and that is another reason I am feeling rather uncomfortable about Christmas – because it’s close to the New Year and the New Year makes me even more nervous. I do not crave another year of not knowing what is going on with my life or what I want or what I should focus on. January will equal TWO years since my stroke, one year since my divorce, and at least the second year of not knowing what I want, what I need, who I am, if I am good enough for anyone, or if I am good enough for myself. I feel like I’m NOT good enough. Yes, in the last few years, I’ve made some significant progress in terms of getting words back (but my reading and writing is STILL much slower than it used to be – and my brain waves are still a weird fusion of weak and over-the-top bizarre froth), but I sure haven’t made very significant progress in terms of positivity, self-empowerment or anything like that.

I know I must work harder on re-evaluating and positive-izing myself pretty darn soon here, but at the moment, part of me feels like staying in bed for the rest of December. I am very uncomfortable with Christmas and the upcoming New Year (and having no clue what that new year holds) and not feeling at all confident about who I am or what I have to offer anyone or what I mean to anyone else – or what my life even means to me.

I need to get back to work focusing harder on reading and writing and poetry again - and also start focusing on figuring some more stuff out.

***

I felt significantly better after speaking on the phone with my scrumptious poet man friend last night; he told me that the two of us would spend the beginning of the New Year together in one way or another; I really do think/feel that will make it so much better.

NEW DREAM SEQUENCE – Death & Glimmering Glitter

2011-12-02T16:49:00.008-05:00

When I was younger, I used to wish I looked more pale and ghostly.
Now I don't want to become a ghost - I'm scared of falling asleep -
of falling into dreams - of falling down falling down falling down...

***

1. My grandpa called me. I didn’t hear anyone on the phone at first, but part of me knew it was him, even though he never calls me. Then he started to speak in a soft and powerless voice, telling me that he was dying.

2. My ex-husband and I got together. We seemed to be getting along well, feeling good about each other, and having a fun and enjoyable time together. We started kissing. Almost as soon as we lay on the bed together, he turned too strong, purposely trying to overpower me. He told me that he was going to crush me, make me bleed inside, and slowly but surely kill me.

3. Usually, when I decide to make myself wake up, it is easy. This time, I couldn’t do it. I felt like I was jerking around and screaming, “oh my god oh my god oh my god”!. I was trying to scream, but felt like it was barely emerging as a tiny whisper. I was trying to scream loud enough so that someone else would hear me and then help me wake up. At some point, my brain realized that I was by myself; there was nobody here to help me.

4. I finally managed to wake myself up, even though I still felt uncertain for a while as to whether or not I was really awake. I was laying still feeling scared; the insides of my body were making weird little clicking sounds. Even when I realized that I really was awake, my body kept clicking. I thought about how my insides have been feeling odd on and off for over a week now; not painful, but uncomfortable in an unusual way that I am not sure how to describe. Bodily clicking sounds? Moving my neck down and making my stomach and legs tingle? What the heck? (After my bad dream, I was lying there in bed, feeling scared, and thinking, “Please don’t let me have another stroke. Please don’t let me have another seizure. Please don’t let me be on the brink of dying.”)

***

Side note 1: Could this bad dream and my bodily tremors have been partially caused by watching horror movies - thinking back upon grandpa watching old-fashioned vampire flicks when I was visiting my grandparents as a little kid – my semi-recent liking of/dancing too much to techno-cheesy music (dancing by myself but often imagining myself dancing in the middle of two gay men; although I’m not trying to refer to my gay men dancing here, so much as my little head jerkings)?

Side note 2: My mom has repeatedly suggested I watch too many horror movies and maybe that’s what causes my bad dreams, BUT I also had plenty of scary bad dreams when I was a little kid who was not allowed to watch those kinds of movies. Maybe then it was related to my mom telling me too many late night tales that started based on the subject matter of ‘don’t talk to strangers’ and then delved into scary subject matter of people slashing legs, peeling off skin, and stabbing hideous liquids into necks.

At least one good thing about my bad dreams is that they can lead to interesting writings, including poetry.

I can creatively pretend that the strange tingling sensations in my neck/stomach/legs are glimmering glitter.

My Thirteen Designer Vaginas are a “half-repulsed pursuit of knowledge and self-knowledge”

2011-11-29T22:26:00.002-05:00

A new review of my Thirteen Designer Vaginas – at fiddler crab – thanks to Kathleen Kirk.

Here is a snippet:

“rich in humor and wordplay, but also rather frightening in what they suggest about what can be done surgically to alter or repair women’s nether parts.”

Click the link below to read more:

http://fiddlercrabreview.blogspot.com/2011/11/thirteen-designer-vaginas.html

*

Thirteen Designer Vaginas is also a part of No Tells: best books 2011 - thanks to Jessy Randall

http://notellpoetry.blogspot.com/search/label/best%20books%202011

*

Thirteen Designer Vaginas also has another review copy available from Galatea Resurrects – and so does the latest Blood Pudding Press poetry chapbook, LETTERS FROM ROOM 27 OF THE GRAND MIDWAY HOTEL by Margaret Bashaar with photographic ephemera by Kevin Ross - plus copies of several older Blood Pudding Press poetry chaps too.

Visit here for more if you would like to receive a review copy from Galatea Resurrects:

http://grarchives.blogspot.com/

NEW POEM

2011-11-24T13:53:00.008-05:00

My new poem - MY SORROW IS NOT SOMETHING YOU CAN EAT - is now up on HOUSEFIRE.

Try to take a bite, but don't expect a wishbone...

http://www.housefirepublishing.com/poetry/my-sorrow-is-not-something-you-can-eat-juliet-cook/

Gobble gobble.

Dusie Kollektiv 5 poetry chapbooks can now be read online!

2011-11-23T02:10:00.004-05:00

The Dusie Kollektiv 5 poetry chapbooks are now live and available for reading online, here:

http://www.dusie.org/issue12.html

My POST-STROKE is one of the offerings; just click on my last name to partake.

You may also purchase it's hand-designed print version from the Blood Pudding Press etsy shop:

http://www.etsy.com/listing/69547229/post-stroke-by-juliet-cook

New Thirteen Myna Birds Land

2011-11-22T12:03:00.002-05:00

In Thirteen Myna Birds land, new art pieces are up by PoetJoe H. Gallagher, David Greenspan, and Joseph Harker - along with older pieces still remaining and darkly deliciously percolating by Eleanor Leonne Bennett, Bonnie MacAllister, Tiffany Midge, & David Greenspan again.

***

"Pick strawberries, slick red layers of tissue, 110% Possum, the desire to clutch!"

***

Partake here - http://13myna.blogspot.com/

***

NEW Review of my Designer Vaginas

2011-11-15T21:50:00.002-05:00

"the images conjured are monstrous, synthetic and sinister with allusions to wrecked dolls and broken psyches"

A snippet from Rachel Kendall's new review of my Thirteen Designer Vaginas published by Hyacinth Girl Press.

Read the whole review at Sein Und Werden here: http://www.kissthewitch.co.uk/seinundwerden/designer_vaginas.html

***

And also a NEW Review (the very first one) of the latest Blood Pudding Press chapbook, 'LETTERS FROM ROOM 27 OF THE GRAND MIDWAY HOTEL' by Margaret Bashaar here on Burning River:
http://burningriver.info/?p=1501

PEEP/SHOW and ME

2011-11-06T18:11:00.002-05:00

PEEP/SHOW is "....A Taxonomic Exercise in Textual and Visual Seriality....".

I am very excited, delighted, and pleased as yummy punch to announce that my new work now appears inside the PEEP/SHOW. Yay!

My Textual-ism within consists of four poems, one song lyric/poem and two semi-creative non-poem pieces.

Here I am - http://peepshowpoetry.blogspot.com/2011/10/blog-post.html

Just one against lots?

2011-11-03T14:41:00.005-04:00

I desire to feel super-strongly about someone who is extra-special to me and vice versa but…

It is very hard for me to figure out exactly how I feel about someone and why due to my ongoing difficulties with memory issues related to SPECIFICS.

Mind you, I used to have great memory skills. I didn’t used to easily forget things both little and big.

But these days, since it is so hard for me to remember specific details, if someone starts interacting/communicating with me less than they used to, that might lesson our relationship (no matter how long our relationship has been going on), because I can’t specifically recall all the positive tidbits if they don’t continually happen.

Every week I seem to forget the specifics of many interactions, thus even if you said some fabulously positive and delightful and wonderful things to me last week, I’m back to worrying; wondering why you like me and if you still do. This is really frustrating to me; it is probably frustrating to you too – knowing you’ve expressed oodles of yummy remarks to me and wondering why I still seem doubtful and terribly insecure.

On one hand, I would like my strong FEELINGS to outweigh my worries; on the other hand, I think that people largely create their own feelings. Feelings are not necessarily based on how other people think/feel about you, as much as they are based on your own mind’s perceptions.

So one week you might offer oodles of scrumptious supportive remarks to/about me and it helps me feel utterly great; the next week I forget those words and start to deflate and feel doubtful again.

I wonder if I am someone extra-special to you or just another semi-interesting, semi-casual, semi-new friend who you might not be able to stay attuned to for a very long time due to my ongoing insecurity and other challenges.

Is anyone ever going to desire to adhere to my convoluted brain and stick with me again & again?

***

On a semi-related note (the next day), I sometimes think that I am semi-anti-social, compared to many of my friends, who are very fun sociable people. I tend to be more sociable in writing than I am in person.

And so with a man-friend I feel strongly about who has all kinds of other fun friends too, why would he want/need much more of me? Maybe I'm a draggy inundation of sorts instead of just another fun morsel of a more sizable feast.

Sometimes I'm fine with being by myself; sometimes I'm not. I don't like to watch movies by myself, for example, so I don't. So it was super-duper fun this past weekend to be inside an awesomely large artsy rococo theatre multiple times, seeing lots of darkly delicious, horrific horror movies with a yummy friend to squeeze up against.

Now I want to lie down with him, cuddle up with him, whisper with him, and watch lots more...

***

On another semi-related note, still looking at children’s books for therapy depresses me, stresses me out, and gives me a headache. I’d like to be above & beyond the First Picture Dictionary. I dislike looking at its kid oriented content (and some of the not so hot memories it stirs up in my mind) plus the rather ridiculous level of concentration it still requires from my brain. Words like pinky and index finger and bracelet don't make sense.

I worked on it for about 15 minutes and then felt so depressed/tired that I layed down and took a nap for a couple hours and why the heck not? What else am I going to do?I mean yes there's lots of stuff that I COULD work on, but is any of it really all that essential? Probably not.

I don't think I've ever been this much of a 'what is the point' type person in my life, but I sometimes am now. Sigh.

I wish to be impassioned again.

I’ve never liked the phrase GO WITH THE FLOW

2011-11-02T17:13:00.006-04:00

You didn’t like the way I dressed – you read some of my poetry and cried – you were upset by my taste in books – & many times when I expressed a different opinion/point of view than yours, you seemed to think that opinion/point of view of mine was created by or heavily influenced by other people rather than being my own opinion that happened to differ from yours.

That started a very long time ago. I remember it happening a lot back when I was in college. If my opinion wasn’t the same as yours, you seemed to think my opinion was created by/influenced by/controlled by others. For one small example, when instead of being anti-abortion, I became pro-choice, you seemed to think that must have been due to somebody else, rather than due to my own opinion changing as I became an adult.

Since you’ve often seemed to think I’m someone who is overly influenced by others (and since I have always disagreed with that perspective of yours about me), part of me was overly worried/concerned about the chance that you might be using my post-stroke situation as some sort of excuse to rid me of someone/something you had never really liked – and since I don’t want another adult to make a choice for me too quickly (or at all for that matter, because I don’t think adults should try to make lifestyle choices for other adults – offering opinions is one thing; but repeatedly telling someone what they should do is another thing), it took me longer to make my own choice.

I tend to be a slow decision maker anyway, even about little things – and when it comes to a big, major lifestyle decision, I sure don’t want to make my choice too fast. For the most part, it is up to each adult to make their own choices when ready/willing. If it took me too long by some people’s standards, oh well. Lots of things take me too long by some people’s standards and it is important to me to try my best to stay attuned to my own standards/thoughts/feelings/perspectives.

I strongly dislike it when I try to express how I am feeling about something and the person I’m talking to interrupts me and says something like, ‘No, that is NOT the way you feel’ as though I am making up my own thoughts/feelings or as if they think they might be more aware of my own thoughts/feelings than I am. WTF!?! Yes, I have lots of mixed feelings, but that doesn’t make me a faker, a lying person, or a person who wants someone else to tell me how I should feel or how I do feel.

Let me express myself my way.

***

(Woke up in the middle of the night a while back and felt compelled to write those notes on papers beside my bed and have now decided to post them here. They probably sound semi-random, but I wanted to write them down again and then throw the papers away).

“Tips of the Whip Fling Gold Stars” – the Poetry of Evelyn Lau

2011-11-02T02:11:00.002-04:00

"After the latest round of sexual fetishism had snapped to a close, the reader was left wanting more and so was the speaker. She was unsatisfied, alone, desolate, devastated, and desperate. Other times, she was muted, numb, and doubtful of her own capacity to experience true emotion and she desired to do something extreme in order to feel something real"

A snippet from my mini-review of Evelyn Lau's poetry.

Read the whole piece by clicking the link below.

http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/9081479/tips_of_the_whip_fling_gold_stars_the_pg2.html?cat=47

It won't be angel hair for long! It'll be green worms!

2011-10-27T12:07:00.000-04:00

Scary and Fun Halloween Dinner Recipes:

http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/2107065/scary_and_fun_halloween_dinner_recipes.html?cat=22

Morsels Hung On Hooks - Halloweeny 13 Myna Birds

2011-10-24T21:42:00.004-04:00

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

paranoia/poetry

2011-10-21T13:53:00.009-04:00

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.

EVERY MONTH COUNTS

2011-10-05T14:17:00.013-04:00

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/

more positive, lovely, bloody, poetic & more more more (bloody or not, here I come)

2011-10-01T15:07:00.032-04:00

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.

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.

negative

2011-09-30T23:24:00.002-04:00

Ongoing sleep issues, possibly related to my new seizure pill seem to be causing increasing slowness and negativity. I am having yet another overly tired, not getting anywhere near enough done day, plus having trouble with easy little words (still - forever?) and getting increasingly frustrated by that. I'm not reading and writing nearly enough. I'm not doing ANYTHING enough. I feel like I could just sleep & sleep & sleep forever. I have never had that experience before in my life. I have to force myself awake every morning. I'm slow and tired almost all day long. I sometimes feel as if I barely exist anymore.

I’d like to think I have a lot more to offer than my holes

2011-09-21T16:40:00.005-04:00

Anyone who likes my holes better than they like my convoluted but still complex brain waves, my thoughts, my feelings, my mental extremities, should just go find themselves another pussy.

Since when did pussies like to be domesticated or dominated?

Fine maybe I liked that at some point in time, but not at this point in time, that’s for sure. Domination does not make me purr; nor does it make me whimper in a fun/sexy way – at least not fun/sexy for ME – and at this point, I definitely do not want to just please another, not really caring if he pleases me.

If you’re the type who really likes dominating a woman who really likes to be controlled, then you are not the type for me. Even the words ‘domination’ and ‘control’ turn me off, at this point in my life. I do not want to be dominated or controlled at all, sexually speaking or otherwise.

I do not want to be ordered around. I understand that turns some people on; fine; but I am not one of them. I like having my hands held down, because I like to be held and touched all kinds of different places and all kinds of different ways by a hot partner I feel truly strongly about.

I like to feel his body on top of/underneath/against/inside my body in all kinds of positions and styles and vice versa. But I don’t like him (or me) being in control and me (or him) just doing what we’re told in any kind of dominating way. I really like strong intensity, but I dislike aggression or strong assertiveness.

Tell me what you’re going to do to my body because you know I want you too. Tell me what you want to do to me, because you know I desire it and want you to tempt me and tease me. Tell me what you want me to do to you; what would really arouse you. But not in a controlling way. Instead, tell me in a really turned on, excited, sweet/dirty fusion of intensity.

Whisper in my ears, stick your tongue inside me, touch me all over. Sometimes I like soft, sweet physical contact; sometimes I like rough, dirty physicality; but I sure as heck don’t like aggression or control. I understand some people have a sexual fetish for controlling/being controlled; that is fine for them; but that is not my fetish and not fine for me.

I’ve had enough controlling people in my life, trying to tell me what to do; trying to tell me what I should do, whether I want to or not. Thus, those kinds of interactions do not turn me on sexually, at all. I’m not anti-kink; I’m not anti-fetish; but I do not have a dominant/submissive kink or fetish.

Tell me what you’re going to do to me because you know it will excite/arouse me. Tell me what you want me to do to you because you know I adore you and desire contact/connection with our body parts and deep inside your mind. Whisper and press yourself into me, but do not yell at me to do something right now or else.

‘I know you want to…’ turns me on. ‘Do this right now or else…’ turns me off.

Someone that is more interested in my holes than my ears and my wrists and my legs and my socks and my thoughts and my feelings and my brain and my WORDS grosses me out.

*

On a semi-unrelated but semi-related note, I am really into Kristin Hersh today. I have loved her music for years and truly am adoring some of her older songs today.

Profiles in Poetics: Juliet Cook

2011-09-16T14:33:00.001-04:00

Aesthetic Diversity of Women Writers in the 21st Century

(interview questions answered by me and asked by Jillian Mukavetz, which originally appeared upon the Women's Quarterly Conversation online site)

http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/8400339/profiles_in_poetics_juliet_cook.html?cat=72

a mannequin armless does not equal harmless

2011-09-14T22:00:00.005-04:00

more blood pudding letters

2011-09-11T17:58:00.002-04:00

When ladling this blood pudding into serving containers, consider hiding a peeled grape eyeball on the bottom. Slurptastic!

http://www.etsy.com/listing/80739335/new-letters-from-room-27-of-the-grand

giving/receiving

2011-09-11T12:39:00.009-04:00

I am tired of the type of people who seem to think about themselves too much in terms of money and items and care; who seem to think about themselves more than others, no matter what.

Yes we should think about ourselves in terms of what is important to us and what we are passionate about; in terms of what we want to do with our lives and goals and what we should focus on; but NOT in terms of what we should receive from others.

I don't like the type of people who seem to think, "Other people should give me this. Other people should give me that. People should do this for me. People should do that for me. People should feel sorry for me. Woe is me. Woe is me." Especially when there is no real ongoing woe.

I truly hope I never come across as a person like that. If I ever have, I am truly sorry.

I think people should focus on helping themselves instead of expecting others to help them and frequently complaining about how others don't help them enough.

I sometimes like helping and I really like giving, but only to the type who pay attention to my offerings, appreciate my offerings, and give back - instead of not really noticing, not really caring, and not really appreciating until they get so much more and then not even noticing that. Just sort of automatically expecting others to give to them, but hardly ever giving much in return.

If you get depressed and expect others to give and you will take take take take take take but don't truly appreciate it, then get away from me please. If you're a woe is me, take take take, complain complain complain, take complain take complain and feel sorry for yourself as though you're some sort of woeful martyr; if you take and don't appreciate and take and don't appreciate and instead complain as though you're not getting enough, get away from me right now.

I've had enough men in my life who take more than they give and don't appreciate what I give (or what anyone else gives, unless it's a substantial amount of money, given repeatedly). I've had more than enough of that.

I strongly desire to give to other givers. I do not wish to give to thoughtless takers.

I wish to give myself to those who give themselves to me. Then I would give and give and give forever.

PMS or new pills or a fusion of the two?

2011-09-08T19:53:00.003-04:00

On the icky/scary side -

Terrible, terrible PMS while in bed the night before last; lying there for a long time crying and feeling really sad.

Then all of the sudden I felt paralyzed.

I usually lie straight on my back in bed, but during my crying spell I had switched to lying on my side and lifted my legs up, almost as if in a hugging myself position. Maybe I had suddenly fallen asleep - but all of the sudden, I couldn't move, couldn't see, couldn't open my eyes, and felt paralyzed and scared (in part because I couldn’t open my eyes and felt paralyzed in bed, after having my stroke – you can read a little more about that here: http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/2807396/poststroke_survival_and_sad_little.html?cat=70).

It was almost as if I couldn't make myself awaken from a bad dream – but usually, I can easily wake myself up from dreams – and also there was no dream IMAGERY. I just felt strangely blinded, paralyzed and trapped.

I finally managed to make myself wake up and shifted my position and kept my eyes open for a while (despite feeling very tired) because I felt scared that what if I was on the brink of having another stroke or a seizer or something (here’s my recent blog post about a very recent possible seizure I had, for which I was prescribed a special pill - http://doppelgangrene.blogspot.com/2011/08/seizure-horror-fest.html).

*

For the most part I am anti-pill, anti-psyche drug that is (unless someone really needs one for serious depression issues or the like; but I often think therapists and psychiatrists are too quick to prescribe pills and people are too quick to start taking them). Granted, the pill I was prescribed was not depression related; it was seizure related; BUT they are not even sure I had a seizure – and I definitely worry about pill’s side effects, especially if they might change my personality, dampen my energy, reduce my sex drive or make me less caring and/or less passionate.

Due to my anti-pill tendencies, I have not been researching my new pill (because then if I read about any negative side effects, I think I might just stop taking it or at least feel rather depressed). Instead, my mom has been conducting some research for me; she's read both some positives and some negatives; but overall, not very much negative about this pill. Also, aside from seeming to have even more irregular sleep patterns than usual lately (and having a hard time falling asleep, no matter how extremely tired I feel), it has not seemed to change my personality at all, at least not at this point in time.

But when I talked to my mom on the phone yesterday morning (crying about how nobody likes me very much and I’m hardly reading & writing anymore & I’m incredibly, ridiculously slow at things and more and now this weird dream state), she said she had read comments from several people with PMS issues that this pill made their PMS even worse.

Hmmm.

So it might just be a fluke; it might not be - but I have felt awfully sad and upset and disappointed the last few days. I don’t feel like the pill has led to any emotional/mental/physical changes until possibly now – until this even more extreme than usual PMS festival of awful sadness. These sad questioning feelings of ‘What the heck am I DOING?’

***

On the yummy/good side -

One thing that very much lifted my spirits last night was when I got home from running some errands and then opened my front door to take Sockeye out for a walk and there was a bright violet vase brimming with a beautiful assortment of purple flowers awaiting me upon my front porch.

I had no idea who they were from until I looked at the little card affixed to the gorgeous arrangement and found out they were an unexpected gift from my delightful PoetJoe.

What a perfect day to receive such a beautiful offering from such a scrumptiously beautiful man.

I couldn’t help but wonder if Joe might be psychic, because I had not talked to him in a few days, so he was not aware of my PMS issues, but the card accompanying the flowers said, "Wish I Was There. Feel Good".

Today I put on shorts that remind me of UPS driver shorts (and Joe) and COOKIES knee highs which remind me of my friend Margaret (who gave me a Sock Dreams gift card from which I bought these fun socks) and even though I still have PMS, it makes me feel much better to think about two delicious poet people who really like me and vice versa.

New sock and flower photos coming semi-soon.

*

P.S. Speaking of Margaret, her haunted treasure trove of poetry is available in the Blood Pudding Press etsy shop here: http://www.etsy.com/listing/80739335/new-letters-from-room-27-of-the-grand

Plus a Halloween Darkly Delicious Combo Pack here: http://www.etsy.com/listing/81271959/halloween-darkly-delicious-combo-pack?ref=v1_other_1

Plus a variety of other odd Halloween-y goodies here: http://www.etsy.com/shop/BloodPuddingPress?section_id=10388961

13 Myna Birds invades the haunted hotel!

2011-09-01T01:27:00.002-04:00

Featuring darkly delicious offerings by Margaret Bashaar, Kevin Ross, James Valvis, Jessy Randall, Daniel Shapiro, Sean Ulman, Suzie DeGrasse, Deidre Elizabeth, & M.P. Powers in a portal of haunted infestation and delight.

Here is a fusion/infusion of snippets from some of the pieces within:

"wormwood eating itself - eating its own heart - casting spells - a small, squirming - intestines like rosaries - shot through the left scapula - then through the heart - slashed deep enough to cut - from drop to drop - no longer spending my days inside triangles - collective delirium - catch on fire - teeth gleaming"

And here is a link to the site:

http://13myna.blogspot.com/

*

This particular Thirteen Myna Birds update is partially in honor of the new Blood Pudding Press poetry chapbook, "LETTERS FROM ROOM 27 OF THE GRAND MIDWAY HOTEL" by Margaret Bashaar; her featured poem is a teaser from that very chapbook, as is the darkly delicious photo art by Kevin Ross.

Partake of more details about that new chapbook and consider purchasing a copy from the Blood Pudding Press etsy shop here:

http://www.etsy.com/shop/BloodPuddingPress

NEW Blood Pudding Press Poetry chapbook - LETTERS FROM ROOM 27 OF THE GRAND MIDWAY HOTEL!

2011-08-30T23:14:00.014-04:00

Brimming with weird, creepy, messy ghostly infiltrations galore, Letters From Room 27 of the Grand Midway Hotel is the NEW Blood Pudding Press poetry chapbook, featuring 14 oddly haunted poems by Margaret Bashaar, inspired by an artsy haunted hotel!The first small assortment of purchased chapbooks will be mailed out on Tuesday September 6 and will most likely be hand signed by Margaret Bashaar herself!

Also, the first ten sold copies will each include a small art card, hand designed by Blood Pudding Press editor Juliet Cook!

Each chapbook will brim with it's own lovely cover, its darkly delicious poetic innards, plus a few artsy photo snippets taken from within the haunted hotel by photographer Kevin Ross!

Take a look and consider purchasing a copy of this haunted treasure for yourself via the Blood Pudding Press etsy shop here, pretty please, if you dare:

http://www.etsy.com/shop/BloodPuddingPress?ref=pr_shop_more Any questions or special cover/innard color options, please feel free to ask.

Interested recipients might also like to partake of Margaret's Bashaar's own blog post about her new chapbook here:

http://pluckedfromogygia.blogspot.com/2011/08/letters-from-room-27-of-grandmidway.html

Boo! Hiss! Explode into poetry!

better than dizzy

2011-08-30T15:16:00.003-04:00

I am feeling much better than early yesterday (and the days preceding), which I wrote about a bit in the blog entry below.

For several days, I was experiencing some oddly uncomfy side effects from my EKG (most likely), but was feeling worried that my seizure pills were already creating ickfest side effects; blah.

I also experienced a small, unlikable phase of being reminded of last time I was in the hospital, which among other things, that experience seeemed to result in me losing love - thus yesterday morning I had an awful little bad spell of worrying that I might lose other important things this time.

What if I lose new friends, who don't wish to deal with some creepy old seizure lady?

What if I lose my poetic passion?

What if I lose all my natural hair color, which freakishly turns white from another stress infusion?

I feel better today though and don't think I am going to lose anything else.

Hopefully, the latest odd health condition was just a strange, small fluke.

Also, I got the latest darkly delicious Blood Pudding Press poetry chapbook added to my etsy shop yesterday - and will be writing a little blog entry about that haunted delight semi-soon.

Yay!

Seizure Horror Fest

2011-08-29T17:05:00.004-04:00

At the moment, I don’t really feel like writing about this or doing much of anything, but if I don’t write/do things, then what is the point of existing, so I guess I will give this a try.

This past week was an unexpectedly unfortunate, bad week for me. It was supposed to be a uniquely creative week, involving my first time being a part of the extra-special Kerouac Fest at the Grand Midway Hotel in Windber PA. Part of the festivities were going to involve me & Margaret Bashaar introducing Margaret’s new poetry chapbook, ‘LETTERS FROM ROOM 27 OF THE GRAND MIDWAY HOTEL’ , which was inspired by the haunted hotel and published by my Blood Pudding Press. Unfortunately, I did not get to go and participate in that.

The day before I was to leave, I was working on packing my attire and took a quick break online. A few minutes after 3:00, I wrote a comment to Margaret on facebook. The next thing I knew, I woke up, was lying on my bed, and was gazing upon my new manikin with confusion, not remembering where it had come from. Even my older headless manikin seemed confusing. Even all the clothes lying on my bedroom floor and the passage of time seemed confusing.

As soon as I got up, it got worse. I felt nauseated, dizzy, faint, and as though I was about to pass out. I immediately become afraid that I was dying. About a year and a half ago, I had suffered from a sudden, unexpected carotid artery dissection which led to a couple aneurysms which led to a stroke. Was I having another stroke? Was I about to die? I felt like I was going to faint and collapse. I called my mom. As I glanced at my cell phone, I saw that it wasn’t quite 4:00 yet, so it’s not as though a lot of time had elapsed since I was online, but what had happened since then?

My sister and parents arrived to my house shortly. I was still feeling disoriented and dizzy – and we soon found out that I must have fallen down hard, because the back of my head was terribly bruised and painful. I later found out that the bottom of each elbow was also bruised. Within about an hour, most of my memory came back to me, except for the memory of when/how/why/where I had fallen down. I figured I had suddenly passed out but why? That is not something that often happens to me. I had been feeling fine that day, eating healthy, drinking plenty of water. I wasn’t drinking any alcohol or doing any drugs. What the heck had happened?

We decided I should go to the emergency room just to make sure I did not have a concussion. I wasn’t lucking forward to doing that; I was worried it would take several hours, when I still had packing and other last minute preparation for my trip, for which I was scheduled to depart via Megabus the next morning. Unfortunately, I did not end up departing. Even though my CAT scan did not indicate a concussion, they suggested the fact I couldn’t remember what had happened made them feel as if I could have had a seizure, so they wanted to send me to the hospital for more testing.

Next thing I know I’m inside an ambulance, talking with the man behind me. I wasn’t in a terrible mood because I was thinking that my hospital testing would last a few hours, then I’d be home and even though I would be rushed, I’d still have time to prepare for leaving the next morning. Well instead, I ended up being in the hospital from Tuesday night until Friday night, receiving multiple tests and lying around on a hospital bed with an IV inserted and a heart monitor plugged in. Instead of being part of an artsy extravaganza with poet and photo artist friends, I was a hospitalized, disabled, out of control old lady.

And then even though none of my testing indicated that I’d had a seizure, they still decided that I should take seizure pills, twice daily, just to be on the safe side. Well I have always been an anti-pill person; the last thing I want is some pill changing my personality, my passion, my sex drive, my interest in life, and/or making me fat. Blah blah BLAH.

I've not had a seizure before in my life; I don't have epilepsy. BUT sometimes people who suffer from a stroke then start having seizures, due to how the stroke affected their brain. BUT my stroke happened more than a year and a half ago, so why would seizures suddenly start overtaking me after all that time? After a rather crappy (sad, depressing, difficult) year or so, things were finally becoming so much happier and better - and now I'm going to start having seizures? I'm hoping it was just a weird fluke.

But even if it was a fluke, the pill I've been given is a seizure related pill – and research indicates that some people have bad side effects from it. I'm really quite nervous about it. Again, I don't want a pill to change my personality, my energy, my poeticism, or anything like that.

I don’t want it to zone me out or make me unemotional. I don’t want it to make me uninterested in poetry, uninterested in art, uninterested in knee highs, uninterested in almost everything.

I don't want a pill to change me. I don't want to be lacking in passion.

I’ve started taking the darn pill but have also started taking notes and will share some of those soon.

I could go into more detail and perhaps I shall later, but being in the hospital for four days and then feeling out of it and depressed my first few days home have put me behind, so for now I need to get to work on publishing and promoting the chapbook that I was supposed to have available live at a haunted hotel while hanging out with its scrumptious poet lady, but alas. Instead I’m all worried about seizure medicine. Blech.

The First Review of my Thirteen Designer Vaginas!

2011-08-22T15:19:00.002-04:00

"As in all Cook's work, there is wonderfully dynamic wordplay, an undercurrent of horror and little tolerance for the candy-coated comforts..."

A small snippet from the very first review of myThirteen Designer Vagina's poetry chapbook now appears on the Melusine blog, here:

http://melusineblog.blogspot.com/2011/08/juliet-cooks-thirteen-designer-vaginas.html

Thank you ever so much much to Melusine editor Janelle Elyse Kihlstrom AND of course to Hyacinth Girl Press, which published this chapbook.

Here is another snippet from the review:

"In these poems Cook's signature motif of the "doll injection mold" is applied to the one aspect of anatomy the cookiecutter-variety plastic girl's doll explicitly lacks but which, for the adult woman, has nevertheless failed to escape the influence of the "injection mold" philosophy of shame for any sort of deviance from an arbitrarily prescribed ideal."

Here is where you can buy yourself a copy of this chapbook if so inclined:

http://hyacinthgirlpress.wordpress.com/2011/07/01/thirteen-designer-vaginas-now-available/

***

And speaking of small press poetry chapbooks brimming with artsy darkly delicious delight, Blood Pudding Press will be offering a newly published chapbook, very very soon!

LETTERS FOM ROOM 27 OF THE GRAND MIDWAY HOTEL by Margaret Bashaar.

Stay tuned if you dare.

dark purple

2011-08-10T13:47:00.004-04:00

Three new photos from August 2011, taken at Lakeside Ohio.

Also please feel free to read my interview, linked to at the post below this one. It is my first poetry-related interview in over a year.

profiles in poetics: ME!

2011-08-09T13:50:00.004-04:00

'women's quarterly conversation' presents the first long poetry related 'interview' I have completed in over a year; it focuses on my stroke/my aphasia/my loss of love AND how this has affected my poetry.

partake here: https://womensquarterlyconversation.wordpress.com/

a small snippet: "I sometimes feel as if I am buzzing around from one feeling to the next like an unstable swarm; like a bee sea creature hybrid who doesn’t know how to fly or swim."

a ghostly Juliet photo (taken by Joe Gallagher):

this tornado loves you

2011-08-09T12:47:00.006-04:00

Semi-related to my small love post below, today I feel compelled to post this Neko Case song. I've liked Neko Case for years, so did D. (ex-husband), he & I saw her in concert together, among a number of other concerts we attended. I have not been to a single music concert in over a year now.

I pilfered this Neko Case song link from a facebook friend of mine's site; he had noted that he & his woman were seeing her in concert tonight at the Beachland Ballroom; a fun little concert venue near Euclid OH.; which is also a place that D. & me & his brother J. had been to together quite a few times; and again, I have not been there since; & sometimes I miss it & sometimes I miss them; but alas, none of that is part of my life anymore right now.

So even though I like this song (and at this point in time, 'this tornado loves you' strikes me as a strangely pertinent phrase), it also made me feel a bit sad.

Perhaps I ought to plan a concert with someone else semi-soon?

FLOWING (ebbing) FLOWING

2011-07-26T15:55:00.007-04:00

Had a bothersome phone conversation yesterday, during which it was suggested that the reason a lot of people probably back away from me is because I talk too much, revealing too much personal information, revealing stuff that most people aren't comfortable with or interested in talking/hearing about.

Part of the reason this came up is because I was talking a bit about how part of me felt a bit badly that I did not attend my 20 year high school reunion this past weekend - whereupon I was reminded that I often say I don't do well in group settings anyway - which is true - AND that I often semi-reconnect with someone, but then our conversational connections semi-suddenly seem to end and that is probably because of the too much/too detailed way I express myself - and that made me feel a little bad/sad, because I realized that was probably true too.

Occasionally I do crave fitting in a little better, but I don't really want to tone myself down in order for that to happen. If I talk too much for some people's liking (or talk about subject matter that most people don't like), then fine; they don't have to talk/listen to me. Yes that sometimes bums me out, but so be it. I’m not going to force myself upon anyone.

I want to be myself and I want people to like the way I am and the way I express myself, even if it IS sometimes a little over the top or extreme or oddly contradictory seeming or whatever. I'd rather be that way than toned done borderline fake. I mean I'll tone myself down at a job obviously. But in other parts of my real life too? No thank you. Why would I want to tone myself down for a friend and then have a friend that really doesn't care that much about me in a detail oriented manner? I like more real, intense caring.

Thirteen Myna Birds New Snippets (& more)

2011-07-25T22:06:00.003-04:00

slip under my tongue, our fingers will fuse and split, my body convulsing – so fertile and so brazen – magnificent desire, hearts bloody – the smell of ginger, sea salt, and starlight – loud music – deep hands – pink handled guillotine – whirling – eyelash-thick wires - egg-speckled swirl –eyes splitting themselves - love comes in many forms, higher then drugs or heaven

The above snippets are fused from the poems within the newly updated Thirteen Myna Birds. Here it is in its entirety: http://13myna.blogspot.com/

Poem #13 is by Margaret Bashaar from her chapbook called LETTERS FROM ROOM 27 OF THE GRAND MIDWAY HOTEL, soon to be published in artsy print by my Blood Pudding Press.

Next month’s Thirteen Myna Birds update will include another poem from Margaret Bashaar’s LETTERS and the chapbook and the chapbook will be available for sale in all its artsy glory within the Blood Pudding Press etsy shop here: http://www.etsy.com/shop/BloodPuddingPress.

Please feel free to take a gander at the shop and/or make a purchase – and stay tuned for the new strange innards next month!

2011-07-24T01:14:00.001-04:00

Marabou Deaths Head

2011-07-10T10:47:00.011-04:00

I've been feeling low energy lately and that bothers me on several levels. I've always been a high energy, productive, passionate person, so feeling low energy is not my style and it worries me.

I’ve been frequently overly tired and am starting to think what if I have cancer or something (granted, I can sometimes be some sort of...what's the word? not “nymphomaniac” which suddenly semi-randomly spurted out of my head; not “kleptomaniac” either; probably not maniacal anything, but the word for people with a tendency to exaggerate possible health issues they might have; I don't do that all the time, BUT if I am more frequently than usual experiencing some symptom of physical discomfort, then that also seems to lead to more mental discomfort for me too).

So lately I’ve been thinking, “What if I have cancer?” and “What if I'm pregnant?” and then realizing that I can’t even remember the last time I’ve been to the doctor for a regular physical not to mention a gynecological exam (and why did the word “kleptomaniac” spurt forth again, before my brain got “gynecological”?;) I can hardly remember time/timing at all, but I do know that in more recent year(s), I had so many non-regular hospital/doctor appointments, that the regular visits stopped AND my health insurance changed AND my location changed and I’ve never been to a doctor in my current locale, so…

My over-tiredness made me think of cancer, because I remember my ex-husband telling me about how his first wife (who suddenly died young of cancer) had early symptoms of losing her energy and feeling overly tired. My pregnancy concern is because my stomach seems to be sticking out a little more than usual and feeling a bit oddly uncomfortable too. Is it my stomach or my cervix? I am not entirely sure. Do I need gynecological testing? Who wants to give it to me? (Just kidding and teasing my own sudden frequent infiltration of the “nymphomaniac” word.)

Speaking of teasing and words, this morning I thought about how yesterday my dad was jokingly making fun of someone because he drove past their garage sale sign and they had spelled the word “sale” wrong; they had spelled it “sail'. Even though I didn't say anything about this out loud, I IMMEDIATELY thought something like, “Well what if the person who wrote that sign had a stroke and that's why there spelling is off?” I used to be an excellent speller, but now I have trouble spelling easy little words; for example, the word of that thing you take flight upon at an airline - is it spelled “plane” or “plain"? I think it's “plane” but I'm not sure; I'm never sure. In fact, editing this very blog-style piece of writing, mainly due to spelling reasons, is literally giving me a headache right now. Oftentimes when I am unsure how to spell an easy word, I just switch to a different word (often a bigger word, oddly enough), so at least I have that capability.

Back to my possible new health issues, maybe I have just not been sleeping very well. Maybe I have often been staying up too late and ought to work harder on adhering to a more consistent sleep schedule. In any case, I sure did not stay up too late last night for cripes sake.

I was at my sister's place for several hours yesterday evening (with family members, dinner etc...) and got back to my place a little after 7:00. My other sister and her family checked out my new place for a little bit and then left. I played with Sockeye for a little bit. By the time it was only a little after 8:00, I was feeling really tired. This is nothing new these days. However, despite feeling tired, I usually stay up and work on things until about 2:00 A.M. (sometimes even later), in part because getting things done takes me longer than it used to. So last night I told myself I'd have a cup of coffee and then start working on Margaret’s chapbook for a while. I started drinking that cup of coffee and after just a few sips, I felt so tired that I told myself I would lie down for half an hour or so and then get into my swing of things. I'm not usually a nap taker at all, so this was already unusual for me. I took another sip of coffee and then placed my coffee next to my bed and laid down.

It wasn’t even 9:00 yet when I laid down, but I ended up laying down and resting until after 11:00, STILL felt really tired after that, and so decided that instead of getting up at midnight and then maybe staying up way too late, I was just going to bed for the night. So I did. I meant to bed at 9:00 for fuck sake.

Since I went to bed at 9:00, I was not about to sleep in as late as I usually do, so I got up at about 5:30 in the morning. It was actually quite interesting to get up much earlier than usual (even though I STILL felt tired) because when I first took Sockeye out for a walk, I loved the cool almost autumnal way it felt outside.

While walking Sockeye, I saw this other little disabled creature (I can't think of its name; it's a creature that is very similar in size and shape to a mouse, but has a different kind of mouth). Unlike some people, I like mice and mousy critters. This critter was alive but lying on its back, moving around as if it couldn't get upright on its stomach. I carefully used my leg to shift it upright, but then found out that something was seriously wrong with it, because it swiftly shifted onto its back again; then I realized that it was uncomfortably twitching rather than simply stuck in an unusual position. I made a second attempt to position it upright, but no luck. The creature continued to twitch and I felt strangely sad.

A few minutes later, I took Sockeye back into our home, but then went back outside with my camera and took a few pictures of the twitching creature (only a few, thinking that if someone happened to see me doing so, that might seem rather perverted, or worse yet what if they thought I had smashed the creature and now was taking perverse photos; this is the way my weird mind works sometimes). Interestingly enough, less than a month ago, I took a substantial amount of photos of a dead baby mouse (as did my artsy photographer friend K. who was visiting me for a few days, thus I am not the only one who enjoys unusual photos), but that creature was dead not twitching and about to die.

Less than half an hour later, when I walked back out to look again, it was gone. Perhaps a bird seized it up.

As for me, despite having now been up for more than five hours (whereas I would usually just be getting up at this hour), I have not gotten much accomplished yet today, I am STILL feeling tired, and my head hurts.

P.S. Mole. (Pasta.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

New update: Today will walking Sockeye, he suddenly started rolling on the ground. He is not the type of dog with a tendency to roll around in other dog's shit, so I looked to say what on earth he was rolling upon. It happened to be a dead version of the above mole that I photographed a few days back while it was alive and twitching. Perhaps it was dropped back down to the ground by a huge death's head moth. In any case, I have now found out that my dog likes rolling around upon death rather than rolling around upon shit. No wonder he's my dog.

Designer V's inside Burning Grapes

2011-07-09T02:04:00.000-04:00

Read three of my Designer Vaginas in The Burning Grape:

http://theburninggrape.blogspot.com/2011/05/works.html

Then scroll down and partake if you would like more.

Thirteen Designer Vaginas (Snip Pivot)

2011-07-06T17:24:00.006-04:00

NEW!

A few signed copies of my Thirteen Designer Vaginas are now available in my own etsy shop too!

http://www.etsy.com/shop/BloodPuddingPress?ref=pr_shop_more

Find out more about this new poetry chapbook via my post below.

Thirteen Designer Vaginas (a meatier variety)

2011-07-01T21:03:00.007-04:00

Another wonderous new small press called Hyacinth Girl Press has now published there very first poetry chapbook - and that chapbook is my own Thirteen Designer Vaginas!

It was the browsing of vaginal rejuvenation sites that inspired me to start writing my designer vagina poems. I got grossed out by the photos and medical notations and wondered what the heck I was looking for and then realized that I was conducting "poetry research"!

Don't you want to delve into some scrumdilicious pussy poems?

Snip snip pivot! Vaginatical! Va Va Voom!

Read a sneak peak snippet below; partake of a cover image; and then purchase your own new vaginas via another bit of linkage underneath!

My pink scalloped lips part, a meatier variety
of snapdragon. A strange but effective treatment
is meat tenderizer. Then I’m so deliciously numb,
it’s like tying phantom limbs to four horses & performing
surgery, as an audience applauds those delicately trembling lobes.

Get one here:http://www.etsy.com/listing/76985283/thirteen-designer-vaginas-by-juliet-cook

Or here: http://hyacinthgirlpress.wordpress.com/

Several copies will soon be available from within my own Blood Pudding Press etsy shop too so stay tuned if interested in that.

***

In other fun new poetry news, the new Menacing Hedge is now live! Five of my poems in print AND read out loud AND baby bird photos AND Scary Bush. Yep that's right.

I am all about Designer Vaginas and Scary Bush right now.

Plus meat curtains and cunts.

Click the linkage below!

http://www.menacinghedge.com/

Dark Dreamy Dead Baby Thirteen Myna Birds Update

2011-06-27T15:06:00.001-04:00

A strange new Thirteen Myna Birds is now floating pieces of Amanda Silbernagel, Valerie Loveland, Suzanne Grazyna, Jillian Mukavetz, M.P. Powers, Misti Rainwater-Lites, and Steven Gulvezan above a dead baby bird here:

http://13myna.blogspot.com/

wobbling V, cobweb shimmers, a planetarium blasts apart inside me, a fire ring, bloodletting, a froth of red shock, more ginger for the cramps, siren anguish, bird spiders, skull bones, devil pricks, the stinger in the middle, beautiful black and green sheen

Depressed/Have I Lost My Passion

2011-06-26T13:03:00.000-04:00

So I had a sad, depressed day yesterday (and am still feeling upset and unhappy today), but I also know that everyone does - and sometimes I really should work harder on focusing on the positive – but sometimes I cannot seem to figure out how. Sometimes it seems hard for the positive to outweigh some of the negative, sad spells spurting out of my head. I woke up sad yesterday, tried to have a productive day, but by the end of it I was feeling worse, sadder, and uglier – started crying again and posted my sadness on facebook. Today part of me feels like I should delete that post, but that would delete everyone’s comments below it and I appreciate those comments and don’t wish to get rid of them so…

The night before last I had trouble falling asleep, was lying in bed thinking, started thinking about how I have not been to a concert in a long time, and how the last times I had been to any were with my ex-husband (who is no longer friends with me – and his brother who is no longer friends with me – and another friend of ours who is no longer friends with me). Granted, that is certainly not the end of the world; I can’t really afford to be going to concerts these days anyway; but I started thinking about how my ex-husband had good taste in music; we shared some tastes in that regard; we attended lots of fun concerts together, including several Interpol concerts, I put an Interpol song on a wedding cd I made for us, now I have not even listened to Interpol for over a year even though I didn’t stop liking them.

We also saw Sonic Youth, Flaming Lips, Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Le Tigre, Rasputina, Neko Case and more (whose names I either can't think of or can't remember off the top of my head). Now I feel like I have nobody to attend concerts with (nobody around here who has similar taste in music; and nowhere in these parts that has concerts other than cover bands) although I could certainly be wrong and anyway, as mentioned above, I can’t really afford concerts at this time anyway.

Overall I am happy and lucky and delighted by my new space and fine with being by myself, but every once in a while I feel sad and alone and then sometimes my ugly feelings quick in too.

My asinine ugly feelings about turning into an unappealing middle aged ick-factor who has lost muscle, is suddenly getting white hairs galore, and is back to getting zits (stress, hormones, or am I just a teenage elder)? Unpopular, sometime borderline antisocial, and sometime pissed off at myself because of that stuff.

It bothers me that I don’t know how to feel about love anymore (even though part of me still craves love, I don’t really trust it) - and those uncertain mixed feelings about love seem to be fusing with my passionate feelings – and so I’ve gone from someone who felt incredibly passionate about poetry and art and other poetic expressions for many YEARS into someone who is now not sure if that passion is as strong - or if anything about me is strong.

I got upset this past week because I recently agreed to read and respond to another poet’s full-length manuscript plus participate in a female poet’s interview and both of those things are taking me much longer than they would have used to.

Although I am happy and excited about my new place, I still have lots of unpacking and organizing to do here and have not read or written any new poetry this entire month and that bothers me too.

Anyway a lot more specific things seemed to be spurting out of my head just a short while ago, but I guess I didn’t get them written right before they disappeared, so I guess this is my short version.

I am quite happy that I have met some fabulous, wonderful new artsy friends in the last year (especially in Pittsburgh; yay – plus meeting one of my poet friends in Florida just last month; yay), but I still have sad spurts of feeling alone and unloved and unliked and ugly and weak.

I will probably try to deal with this kind of subject matter in the poetry interview I am in the midst of working on.

Father's Day Greeting Card Ideas

2011-06-17T23:23:00.002-04:00

Unique Father's Day Greeting Card Messages:

http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/1662135/unique_fathers_day_greeting_card_messages.html?cat=74

Raw Ginger. Poison Apple. Silver Scalpel.

2011-06-10T15:02:00.001-04:00

My erotic short story, "Raw Ginger. Poison Apple. Silver Scalpel." is now live on Oysters & Chocolate.

This is an older piece of mine - I don't write much erotica OR stories (mostly poetry), BUT I still like ginger...

BDSM Fetish Erotica - Raw Ginger. Poison Apple. Silver Scalpel. http://www.oystersandchocolate.com/

Another Poet With Aphasia

2011-06-02T13:54:00.003-04:00

My third POST-STROKE Aphasia Piece is finally published; yay!

This one is related to poets with Aphasia, including Marie Ponsot, me, & more information too!

Post-Stroke Aphasia Piece Three (Another Poet With Aphasia)

http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/8113301/poststroke_aphasia_piece_three.html?cat=5

New Thirteen Myna Birds (& new coming-soon post-stroke article?)

2011-05-28T13:47:00.003-04:00

GOOD! A new bloody, ghostly, volatile installment of Thirteen Myna Birds went live yesterday, with poems by Jillian Mukavetz, Chris Moran, Mather Schneider, M.P. Powers, Letitia Trent, & Wesley Dylan Gray.

Check it out here if so inclined: http://13myna.blogspot.com/

*

NOT GOOD! In other news, just in case anyone was wondering why my semi-recent post-stroke articles rather quickly featured links to my Intro, Piece 1, and Piece 2 - but then never linked to my supposedly coming-soon Piece 3 - well, I finished writing that Piece 3 about a month ago - but for some reason, I suddenly stopped being able to get onto my own Associated Content Site (where I post those sorts of articles) - even though I've been a member there for more than two years and have written/posted more than 100 articles.

I'm rather annoyed that I suddenly cannot access that site; I've emailed them for help and am hoping to receive that soon.

In the meantime, here are links to my Intro and first two articles again - and if I am unable to add my 3rd article there semi-soon, then perhaps I will just add it to my blog here. Sigh

*

The Intro (which offers a few snippets of what to expect from the others):

http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/7973477/intro_to_my_three_new_poststroke_aphasia.html?cat=5

Post-Stroke Aphasia Piece One (Challenging Words & Images):

http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/7973591/poststroke_aphasia_piece_one.html?cat=5

Post-Stroke Aphasia Piece Two (Love Replaced With Doubt & Debt):

http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/7976323/poststroke_aphasia_piece_two.html?cat=70

Post-Stroke Aphasia Piece Three hopefully coming soon!

More Mixed Feelings, Confusion, & Nervousness Galore

2011-05-16T14:16:00.008-04:00

1. A few thoughts/feelings a little earlier today:

I think my most recent poetry has become somewhat flatter and doesn't have as much resonant, powerful feeling as it used to.

I think that's because I also don't have as much resonant, powerful feeling as I used to.

I had to tone down some of my own strong feelings, lest I became a continuous panic attack mishap.

(Mind you, this did not involve pysch. drugs; I am pretty anti psych. drugs; but my brain managed to somehow tone down/turn off itself.)

2. A few thoughts/feelings less than half an hour later:

I think the above is untrue, because almost as soon as I started thinking more about it, I then started crying. Is there something wrong with me? My feelings are so frequently mixed mixed mixed and discombobulated.

I think one reason I try not to think about things too much anymore is because then I get really nervous about almost everything.

I'm nervous about my new up-coming house (why? it's not like I've never lived by myself before. It's not like it's in a dangerous area. Why my uncomfortable nervous spurts about something good?). Maybe it's partly because I have frequent mixed feelings about whether I want to be by myself or not. I do, I don't, I do, I don't.

I'm nervous about being by myself; I'm nervous about seriously commiting to anyone.

I'm nervous that my poetry is not as good as it used to be - and what if I lose my passion for the primary entity I've been incredibly passionate about for countless years.

The last three words of my newest poem are "on, off, on".

I'm nervous that I have no clue what to do job-wise anymore (what I can do OR what I want to do).

I'm nervous that everyone might get tired of me; less & less interested.

On, off, on.

I'm over the top then under.

Over the top then downhill.

I worry that maybe love always dies or wishes you dead.

These thoughts made me start crying, so I guess my worry that I do not have strong feelings anymore is wrong.

Maybe I just emotionally/mentally tone them down so I don't get incredibly nervous and start crying all the time.

I do still have feelings and emotions. They're just rather nerve wracking if I concentrate on them too hard.

I'm nervous about my terrible sense of direction.

I'm nervous about being a 38 year old who feels like I am starting over in a way, but does not know how to.

How should I turn my nervousness into art?

Mixed feelings are not mixed bags; how should I open them?

Mixed feelings are not mixed drinks; how should I swallow them?

Alien Skull Infiltration

2011-05-15T21:57:00.004-04:00

While looking upon some of my recent photos, I started thinking that I looked like an alien skull (I used to think I looked like an alien witch). Then I started thinking more stuff along alien skull lines and found it rather interesting.

In an oddly appealing sort of manner, I realized that after having a semi-recent health experience through which I could have died, I am lucky to be alive, but am now infiltrated with skulls, as though skulls are a semi-scary, semi-scarred, darkly delicious, festive part of my life!

I've received skull jewelry from a man I love(he has a strange skull tattoo, which I've seen in person several times this year) and he & I & a long time best friend of mine also attended a Day of the Dead Skull art space together.

I've received skull socks from a yummy poet friend AND from a delicious artsy photographer friend.

I sent some skull xmas cards at the end of last year. I painted skull magnets and a skull box for friends/lovers.

And just this past week, I received a bright red skull heart journal fom the ladypants poet friend.

I've used the word 'Skull' in several of my semi-recent poems ("an imploding bath of dark skull sex").

And now I am starting to look like an alien skull.

Florida May 2011 Ladypants

2011-05-14T14:57:00.010-04:00

Me with family & friends in Venice Florida, May 2011

Me & Aunt Diane

Me & Lindsay Bliss

Lindsay B., Me & Aunt Di in front of a Penis

Aunt Di & I near the Salvador Dali Museum

Ladypants Poet-ess Juliet Cook & Ladypants Poet-ess Kathy Burkett in front of Dali Museum

Me & Sandra W.

Lots more photos including beach and food and other creatures are available to partake of via my facebook page here:

http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10150191768972458.327543.842512457&l=6ce87b7341

A Vertiginous Swirl just entered my head - again...

Post-Stroke Aphasia Articles

2011-05-01T14:30:00.000-04:00

Linked to below is my Intro piece for my three new Post-Stroke Aphasia articles.

These articles took me a long time to write; I was often overtaken by mixed feelings.

But I finally did it and hopefully a few people will read and relate.

The Intro will offer you a few snippets of what to expect from the others.

Those other pieces will also be added here.

http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/7973477/intro_to_my_three_new_poststroke_aphasia.html?cat=5

*

NEW - Post-Stroke Aphasia Piece One (Challenging Words & Images)

http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/7973591/poststroke_aphasia_piece_one.html?cat=5

*

NEW - Post-Stroke Aphasia Piece Two (Love Replaced With Doubt & Debt)

http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/7976323/poststroke_aphasia_piece_two.html?cat=70

*

Piece #3 coming soon...

*

P.S.

I understand that my stroke was difficult for my ex-husband to deal with too. He had lost his first wife to cancer; she had suddenly died young. He was very uncomfortable with hospitals and health issues and I can certainly understand that. I just wish he would have told me that he was truly sorry but he really couldn’t deal with this kind of situation again in his life. Yes, I would have been disappointed by that, but it would have been better than him acting like the whole situation was my own fault and repeatedly lashing out at me due to a lifestyle change that had happened beyond my control. It’s not like I had my stroke on purpose. I wish it wouldn’t have happened. I wish it wouldn’t have made his life harder. I wish I wouldn’t have lost parts of my brain - and then my home and my husband and my credit and more...

If something bad, unfortunate, or mistaken happens, he wants to move on – not dwell on it. I can understand that to an extent, but not when it is related to a brain loss injury. He seriously wanted me to forget about it after mere weeks, but how am I supposed to forget about or ignore something that still affects my brain?

Would most people just ignore a brain injury – or expect their spouse to?

I don’t think so.

Maybe I’m wrong.

April Red Head

2011-04-25T22:55:00.004-04:00

Become crushed into shards or melt/as I speak rusty hooks, jeweled daggers, dark candy

2011-04-06T14:39:00.003-04:00

Juliet Cook inside Oysters & Chocolate - http://www.oystersandchocolate.com/Poetry/2165/LicoriceWhip.aspx

This is my first time having a poem of mine appear within an Erotic magazine.

This “Licorice Whip” is an older poem of mine (previously published several years ago in the online literary/art magazine 'Sein und Werden').

Below is a piece of it; click on the link above to read the whole.

"Open your mouth when your tongue feels metallic.
Purr like a cross between sleek cat and steely machine.
Blades. The sound of resistance
as the ice is crushed into hard candy shards."

APRILBLOODPOEM

2011-04-03T18:15:00.002-04:00

Since April is Poetry Month and I truly adore poetry (and have little oodles of poetry chapbooks available for sale in my Blood Pudding Press etsy shop), I am offering a BIG 50% OFF coupon code you can use all month long for any/all Blood Pudding Press poetry chapbooks!

The shop is here: http://www.etsy.com/shop/bloodpuddingpress

The code is APRILBLOODPOEM.

Feel free to let me know if you have any questions.

Happy Poetic April!

Suggestions?

2011-03-30T23:21:00.000-04:00

Maybe if I work on trying to learn some new/different things that I’ve never learned before, that might help to activate new parts of my brain – and then maybe those newly activated parts could also re-learn old things - but what should my new things be? Any suggestions?

I've already received the suggestion of learning guitar (which is probably a good one, but I don't have a guitar).

Any others?

New Thirteen Myna Birds Smithereens

2011-03-30T18:57:00.004-04:00

Thirteen Myna Birds latest update is now live!

Starring new poetry by Michelle Detorie, Misti Rainwater-Lites, Joseph Harker, Daniel G. Snethen, Trisha Low, & Franklin Murdock (plus older poems remaining by Molly Curtis & Corey Mesler).

Here is a strange smithereen of tidbits created by lines from each new piece : “a spool of gloss torn by clipped sun, staining your junctures, cunt murmurs, writhe helpless, Tangled, telescopic eyes, ravenous for my flesh, a tattoo costs the same as an abortion, a pulpy trophy, what are you wearing, strip to your terrors”

Smithereen it for yourself: http://13myna.blogspot.com/

New tidbits plus an old interview at Birds of Lace

2011-03-29T14:24:00.005-04:00

Last week was a rough one for me - and this week started out that way too - lots of stress, frustration, sadness, and more - BUT, I cannot allow myself to focus on the negative or frustrating stuff - I must continue to try my best!

Yesterday, I started feeling better while painting a skull box. I've also been working on a new article (using several of the last few blog posts below, slightly updated and revised) plus more and I've also been working on the next Thirteen Myna Birds update, which will hopefully happen later today.

Today there is a new online version of an older (poetry-oriented) interview with me that was originially published in a print publication called Freshette - and is now available online at Birds of Lace (thank you Gina Abelkop!).

I remember receiving the print version while I was still in the hospital shortly after my stroke last year, so I wrote this content over a year ago, but it is still good to see it online now.

Here's a snippet: "every once in a while, I get in a mode in which I start thinking about the possible pointlessness of it all or maybe even the frivolousness of it all or maybe even the self-indulgence involved with investing so much time and energy into creating these little art projects that probably mostly just matter to me. However, we all have to find our sense of special meaning and significance somewhere—for some, it’s in the camaraderie surrounding sports, for some it’s through religious beliefs, for some it’s political activism, for some it’s careerism... For me, it’s poetry. I feel that this realm is where my voice truly belongs and can most authentically express itself, whether or not my expressions resonate for others."

Read more by clicking the link: http://birdsoflace.wordpress.com/2011/03/29/an-interview-wjuliet-cook/

Paper Ephemera - It will please you

2011-03-27T19:50:00.005-04:00

This is a teeny little snippet from one of several offerings of paper ephemera newly available from Blood Pudding Press, presenting you with some oddly unique, fun vintage and/or artsy innards from a variety of different magazines - to use within your own unique art!

See more & find out more here:

http://www.etsy.com/shop/BloodPuddingPress?section_id=5216837

Voodoo Doughnut Yum!

2011-03-25T17:13:00.007-04:00

I received my first ever Voodoo Doughnut in the mail today, sent to me by the delightful Mackenzie M! Yay! Thank ye poodle!

Prepare to be pretzel stabbed and bitten!

*

Finger bitten off.

Oozing innards.

My head & heart are left.

Blood Pudding Zombie Holocaust

2011-03-15T16:24:00.001-04:00

My Blood Pudding Press is featured on ZombieHolocaust:

http://zombieholocaustmusings.blogspot.com/2011/03/liable-to-mutate-your-tongue.html

Blood Pudding Press/Horror Couture

2011-03-08T20:34:00.009-05:00

My Blood Pudding Press etsy shop has become part of a Team called Horror Couture!

When I was invited to join this Team I felt pretty excited but worried that I might not fit in, because I don't have much blatantly horror-esque stuff available for sale in my Blood Pudding Press shop. I have hand-designed poetry chapbooks, vintage doodads, and ephemera.

BUT I do think some of my poetry is horror-esque in it's own odd way. In much of my older poetry, I liked to bake horrific confections. I don’t like vanilla snack pack pudding poetry; I like blood pudding poetry. I like poetry that borders the unappetizing, poetry that borders the grotesque, poetry that borders the pornographic and horrific. I am attuned to a sense of revolting, bodily-based horror associated with femaleness and I have a desire to birth this horror or abort it or deconstruct, reconstruct, or vivisect it!

As far as my newest poetry is concerned, my very latest chapbook 'POST-STROKE' is based on a real-life horrific health issue I suffered (and am still suffering) from. I had a carotid artery dissection, aneurysms, a stroke - and NOW have a Stent and Aphasia.

Also, I even designed a new sexy hot pink Venus Fly Trap Card (with poetry snippets) in honor of the Horror Couture group!

Lovely? Poisonous? Horror-ific in its own odd way? You decide.

See more about the Venus Fly Trap card here:

http://www.etsy.com/listing/69587846/sexy-hot-pink-venus-fly-trap-handmade

See more about POST-STROKE here:

http://www.etsy.com/listing/68522600/post-stroke-by-juliet-cook

X.O.X. Juliet

***

P.S. Created a NEW Horror Couture-esque Treasury: http://www.etsy.com/treasury/4d77f528b10a6d91fe0b5dd3/horror-couture-eyeballs-other-yummy?ref=pr_treasury

Blood Pudding Press Chapbook SETS

2011-03-05T01:17:00.002-05:00

Added a new Poetry Chapbook SETS section to my Blood Pudding Press etsy shop, so that if anyone is interested in purchasing two or three different chapbooks, they can be treated to a special price, $2.00 to $4.00 less than buying each chapbook separately.

Take a look see; feel free to let me know if you have any questions.

http://www.etsy.com/shop/BloodPuddingPress?section_id=7894809

Ides of March, Ides of Morph, Easter Oddballs

2011-03-03T19:55:00.003-05:00

Another etsy Treasury I recently created - "Ides of March, Ides of Morph, Easter Oddballs":

http://www.etsy.com/treasury/4d6df0bb54ac6d91a21ee9b4/ides-of-march-ides-of-morph-easter?ref=pr_treasury

AND my own etsy shop's new Easter Yumfest is here:

http://www.etsy.com/shop/BloodPuddingPress?section_id=7888847

Beware the Ides of Morph (SEVENTEEN Mynas)

2011-03-01T18:36:00.002-05:00

Beware the Ides of March, the Ides of Morph, a darkly delicious concoction in which Thirteen temporarily morphs into Seventeen Myna Birds!

A hauntingly sexy assortment of scrumptious goodies and horror by the likes of Molly Curtis, Corey Mesler, John Grey, Daniel G. Snethen, Joseph Harker, Trisha Low, & Stephen Caratzas.

Partake of these creatures' works here! http://13myna.blogspot.com.

Then feel free to submit to other updates in the future (the issue after this one will go back to just Thirteen new editions - two of those are MORE pieces by the above named Joseph Harker and Trisha Low - eleven of them are still open) and/or invite your friends to submit.

Below are a couple little slivers created from the current issue, pilfering and fusing tidbits from all of the new Seventeen Myna Birds creatures. Slurp.

"creatures bucked off at awful angles / music latticing the night / small, humming, lucent / golden cobwebs / spirits flanking spirits / lips stained mauve / savage orange glow / sticky sweetness / salty starvation / treacherous fashion"

"ink in my veins / open up like a ghostflower / long, slow nerve / mortifications of the flesh / the slits of her gums / have you been snorting buttercream? / the new, the dark, the glorious"

Blood Pudding Press Goodies

2011-02-26T00:23:00.000-05:00

Etsy
BloodPuddingPress

Transmogrified

2011-02-25T20:06:00.007-05:00

I happened upon this recent mini-review and/or glance at my new POST-STROKE poetry chapbook (published by Blood Pudding Press for Dusie Kollektiv 5) written by another Dusie 5 participant, William Allegrezza (I've received his chapbook too; have not read it just yet, but am looking forward to doing so soon).

I found his review quite interesting, but was not quite aware of the definition of 'transmogrified', so looked it up on dictionary.com and found that definition quite interesting too!

Copied below is his note, followed by that word's definitions.

After that is a photo of my POST-STROKE chapbook, followed by a link to it in my Blood Pudding Press etsy shop, where you can find out more details (and read a few other mini-reviews) and/or purchase a copy for yourself.

*

The Daily Glance (The Kollectiv Series)

Juliet Cook's Post-Stroke is aptly titled, for the poems, we are told in a note, are "partially inspired by/related to" a stroke that Cook recently had. The craft of the book itself is worthy note since it is tied together by yarn, and the interior poems are surrounded by a cut out art image. Mine starts with some eyes starting at me, but I imagine that different chapbooks have different images. The poems are on pages cut out at different sizes, and they are fascinating for their post-traumatic experience theme.

Post-Stroke my words are not over-
ly obvious. Why on earth should my
non overly obvious poetry be dead?

In this chapbook, poetry is strongly connected to life and individual presence. It is a comfort and a tool to explore what remains, but it has been transmogrified in the experience.

bill allegrezza

*

trans·mog·ri·fy

-to change in appearance or form, especially strangely or grotesquely; transform

-to change completely...apparently a perversion of transmigure, from transmigrate, perhaps influenced by modify

http://www.etsy.com/listing/68683940/post-stroke-by-juliet-cook

Darkly Delicious Poetics (3)

2011-02-25T18:15:00.002-05:00

Yet another etsy Treasury featuring poetry chapbooks, poetic art, notebooks to work on your poems and art within, and other yummy doodads.
http://www.etsy.com/treasury/4d682ffffb438eef42eee4ba/darkly-delicious-poetics-3

Darkly Delicious Poetics (2)

2011-02-23T22:27:00.000-05:00

Another Treasurey of Poetry chapbooks, poetry books, poetic art, notebooks to work on your poems and art within, yummy eating and drinking doodads, & more.

http://www.etsy.com/treasury/4d65acecd56f8eef23fd9e0a/darkly-delicious-poetics-2#4d65cede48118eef053d2f58

Darkly Delicious Poetics (1)

2011-02-23T17:57:00.001-05:00

A Treasurey of poetry chapbooks, poetry books, poetic art, notebooks to work on your poems and art within, yummy eating and drinking doodads, & more.

Featuring work by Juliet Cook, Christine Hamm, Kathy Burkett, Aunia Kahn, and many more.

Stay tuned for #2, coming soon.

http://www.etsy.com/treasury/4d657e50cd846d91c7295de3/darkly-delicious-poetics-1?index=0

New POST-STROKE poetry chapbook now available

2011-02-20T16:46:00.016-05:00

POST - STROKE is now available!

POST - STROKE is my new 2011 poetry chapbook, created by Blood Pudding Press for DUSIE Kollektiv 5.

POST - STROKE is a small hand-designed snippet of ten new poems and more.

About a year ago, I suffered from an unexpected carotid artery dissection, bleeding out by 99%, aneurysms, and a stroke - and this strange sensation inspired the poems within this collection.

Partake of more and/or purchase your very own copy in the Blood Pudding Press etsy shop here:http://www.etsy.com/shop/BloodPuddingPress

***

If interested, you may also read some articles I've written about my stroke, linked to below:

~Post - Stroke Survival and Sad Little Blues: http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/2807396/poststroke_survival_and_sad_little.html?cat=70

~Full Length Dissection: http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/5602556/full_length_dissection.html?cat=70

~A Round Thing That Starts With The Wrong Letter: http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/6187208/a_round_thing_that_starts_with_the.html?cat=5

Body of Words

2011-02-14T22:52:00.004-05:00

Body of Words is a Reader-Driven Blog in which we explore the relationship between the human body and the language we use to convey our own understanding of self, other, sex, love, and ultimately the meaning of our physical existences.

Please partake and consider submitting your own bodily offerings to Body of Words.

http://www.bodyofwords.net/

Post-Stroke and Thirteen Designer Vaginas - Coming Very Soon!

2011-02-06T19:51:00.015-05:00

Juliet Cook's POST-STROKE poetry chapbook, published by Blood Pudding Press for Dusie Kollektiv 5!

I have already begun mailing copies to Dusie Kollektiv 5 members.

Soon extra copies shall be available from the Blood Pudding Press etsy shop.

Below is a sneak peak cover design and one sneak peak poem.

Marmalade Glaze

Like a terrible pterodactyl necklace it bit,
sunk in and left me
bloody. Snorted thousands
of remembered words out of my system.
Appealing turned into appaling.

***

Another exciting announcement I just found out is that my Thirteen Designer Vagina's have been chosen for publication by the new Hyacinth Girl Press!

Hyacinth Girl Press is "a micro press dedicated to feminist avant garde poetry".

My designer vaginas will be the presses very first chapbook, scheduled to happen this spring.

Below is a link to the Hyacinth Girl Press online site:

http://hyacinthgirlpress.wordpress.com/2011/01/24/welcome/

***

I will be reading three Designer Vagina poems and five Post-Stroke poems at a poetry reading next Saturday, at Mr. Smith's Coffee House in Sandusky Ohio:

http://www.mrsmithscoffee.com/home

Making Valentine's Day a Little More DIY and a Lot More Creative

2011-02-04T19:47:00.004-05:00

Think back if you please to those grade school days and those classroom Valentine's Day parties for which each child would design her own special Valentine's Day box into which the other children could bestow their handmade or store bought but crayon scrawled Valentine cards. Usually, these Valentine boxes were fashioned from shoeboxes or tissue boxes lovingly decorated with colored paper and hearts and foil and lace, with a little slot cut into the lid, awaiting its bright bevy of Valentine cards.

I don't know about you, but for me, designing and decorating and adorning my extra-special Valentine box was almost as much fun as receiving those Valentine's cards themselves. The process of creating my box was a delight that allowed me to express myself uniquely while joyfully anticipating the fun-filled party time soon to come and THEN that eagerly- awaited time after the party when I would get to sort through the contents of my Valentine box and check out all the goodies!

Here's a fun and unique DIY idea if you have a nostalgic significant other, a creative friend, or maybe even a special BFF who you can trace all the way back to those grade school days-why not give your special someone the chance to relive those fond memories from Valentine's Days past by making them a homemade Valentine's Day gift basket in the form of one of those old-school Valentine's day boxes?

You can literally use a shoebox or a tissue box, just like in the days of yore. Or you can make it a little more adult-like by choosing a more sophisticated keepsake style box that your friend can enjoy reusing after the holiday. Why not pay a visit to your local Container Store for box ideas galore? Make sure the box you choose will be spacious enough to accommodate all the groovy Valentine's Day goodies you intend to nestle inside.

Before you fill the box with Valentine's Day gifts, don't forget to decorate it. Be creative! You can use a decorating style that is reminiscent of your grade school days (think red and pink construction paper, notebook paper, red foil paper, crayons, Magic Marker, old photos, heart-shaped doilies or stickers; heck, maybe even break out the paste for old time's sake and that minty fresh smell). Or you can take a more sophisticated, adult-like approach with higher-quality paper and accoutrements such as pretty ribbon, vintage lace, pressed flowers, unique buttons, and more. A few other ideas to get your creative juices flowing: decoupage, calligraphy, handmade paper, pieces of real love letters (or what about notes that the two of you exchanged way back when in an old classroom?)...

The creative Valentine's Day decorating possibilities are myriad and lovely.

Of course, decorating the outside of your lucky friend's Valentine gift box is only part of the fun. You also get to decide what special Valentine gifts to nestle inside. Maybe some of these gifts will be homemade, too, such as a favored baked good. Red Velvet cupcakes are a wonderful choice for Valentine's Day and you can even bake them in a heart-shaped muffin tin. Decorate your heart-shaped Red Velvet cupcake with delicious swirls of vanilla or cream cheese frosting (perhaps with just a drop of red food coloring added to the frosting to create a pretty pink tint), adorn with silver dragee flourishes and you have a baked good that's attractive enough for even a discriminating Valentine's Day gourmand. Or get even fancier with raspberry tarts, reminiscent of The Queen of Hearts. Or what about homemade truffles, rolled in red edible sugar?

Delectable baked goods are only one idea for the yummy innards of your special friend's homemade Valentine's Day gift basket. If you're using the old-school theme, why not consider adding a mix tape with love songs or just a multifaceted music mix that includes ditties of special significance to you and your friend? Poetry is also an excellent gift notion for Valentine's Day. Whether you handwrite a classic love poem to add to the gift box or better yet, write your very own poem for your friend (if you don't feel poetic enough, a handwritten Valentine's Day note would also be nice) or acquire a unique hand-designed poetry chapbook by a contemporary poet, these especially expressive words will surely add a significant and memorable touch to your friend's Valentine's Day gift basket.

Etsy is a wondrous one-stop shopping source for all your unique handmade items needs, so it might serve you very well indeed to browse some etsy categories and shops in search of even more idiosyncratic and personalized special additions for your lucky BFF's Valentine's Day gift basket. From letterpress greeting cards to gourmet cookies to fuzzy red legwarmers to all manner of holiday-themed specialties, etsy offers it all-and all you need to do is visit esty.com online.

Etsy even features a bath & body category, but another sumptuous source for luxurious bath & body products and blissfully wonderful aromas is lush.com (or Lush in person, if you're lucky enough to live near one of their yummy little shops). Lush stocks all kinds of delicious temptations from lovely hair conditioners to sublime perfumes to a handcrafted facial cleanser known as Angels on Bare Skin.

I think that an especially apt Lush addition to a Valentine's Day gift basket would be one of their famous bath bombs, which are handcrafted in many romantic, relaxing, sexy, sassy, or just plain fun varieties such as the Kiss me Klimt (ylang ylang and rose), the Sex Bomb (jasmine), and the Tisty Tosty (a delicate heart-shaped bath bomb infused with precious rose and orris root to "weave a magic love spell for your bath). While you're browsing these bath bomb offerings for your friend, you'll probably desire to choose one for YOU, too-and why not indulge yourself? It is Valentine's Day, after all and it is oh so important to love yourself and treat yourself, too.

It is also important to show your friends and lovers that you care and what better way to do so than by adding personalized, unique, handmade, artistic flourishes to their Valentine's Day gifts? They'll love you for it.

Happy Valentine's Day!

***

Read more of my Valentine's Day (and Anti-Valentine's Day) articles by clicking the links below.

Paint a Piece of Pottery For Your Valentine:
http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/1426072/paint_a_piece_of_pottery_for_your_valentine.html?cat=30

Valentine's Day Cards:
http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/1381810/valentines_day_card_messages.html?cat=41

Anti-Valentine's Day Cards:
http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/1379598/antivalentines_day_cards.html?cat=7

How To Celebrate An Anti-Valentine's Day:
http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/1380278/how_to_celebrate_an_antivalentines.html?cat=7

Some Alternative Uses For Love Letters:
http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/1371657/some_alternative_uses_for_love_letters.html?cat=10

***

Also Blood Pudding Press has added a new small section of Strange Valentine's - from on-sale special poetry chapbooks to ivory lace & more. Please do feel free to partake:
http://www.etsy.com/shop/BloodPuddingPress?section_id=7799241

Viral Spiral

2011-01-29T16:25:00.003-05:00

NEW Listenlight is now live, with poetry by me, Paul Siegell, Penn Kemp, Sarah Birl, & more: http://www.listenlight.net/.

Viral Spiral is my new-est poem doodad.

Me in Front of a Mausoleum

2011-01-22T20:07:00.012-05:00

Me in front of a Mausoleum

What do you think is underneath?

"Wisteria drooping itself lovely above a rim of secrets." Ali Lawrence

***

Me in front of a Monument

T & Me

"Like a gigantic gong
undergoing constant pulsations" Izzy Onereic

Planchette Haunting by Margaret Bashaar

2011-01-13T16:50:00.005-05:00

My darkly delicious poet-friend Margaret Bashaar has created wondrous mini-reviews of quite a few of my poetry chapbooks and today she has just posted a new one - a mini-review of my 'Planchette'. Her succulent, shimmering, haunted review is copied below:

"Planchette by Juliet Cook (Blood Pudding Press, 2008) - anyone who has read previous mini reviews by me knows that I love Juliet's poetry, and of course Planchette was no exception. Perhaps my reviews of Juliet's work should simply read "It was Juliet Cook. What do you think?". But no, I will be more descriptive than that. In this collection, I was particularly impressed with how well each poem fit together with the others. The entire collection was pale and haunted. There were hauntings of the body, hauntings of food, hauntings of dolls, hauntings of furniture, hauntings of spiders, and yes, hauntings of homes. I enjoyed how poems would reference one another, yet not be dependent upon one another in order to be understood and appreciated. I felt as though I was being lead through a tour of quiet madness by someone who, themself, was quite mad. As is always a strength in Juliet's writing, there is beauty in the grotesque of Planchette, and, I feel, a strong feminist undertone to her writing about women made pale with blood made thin and fingertips snipped off (though Juliet herself has told me she's been called everything from a radical feminist to an anti-feminist by those who have read her poetry). You can purchase a copy of Planchette at the Blood Pudding Press etsy store, as linked above, and I highly recommend it."

You may also visit Marg's Plucked From Ogygia blog to partake of more, here:

http://pluckedfromogygia.blogspot.com/

You may also visit my Blood Pudding Press etsy shop to see & read more about Planchette (and other chapbooks and artsy/crafty doodads), here:

http://www.etsy.com/listing/61369901/planchette-by-juliet-cook

You may also visit Marg's NEW etsy shop, currently offering stunning snippets of hand-made jewelry, here (I love the Turquoise and Shell Necklace):

http://www.etsy.com/shop/myhyacinthgirl?ref=pr_shop_more

AND speaking of Blood Pudding Press, I am currently at work on my Blood Pudding Press for Dusie Kollektiv 5 NEW poetry chapbook of mine called "Post-Stroke", so stay tuned.

AND after that chapbook is created (hopefully in February), then Blood Pudding Press will get to work on its NEXT poetry chapbook, "LETTERS FROM ROOM 27 OF THE GRAND MIDWAY HOTEL", by Margaret Bashaar.

What could be more wonderfully haunting!?!

On a Lighter Note (Fun Socks!)...

2011-01-12T17:33:00.004-05:00

On a lighter, funner, more scrumptious note than my last post here about my Stroke last year and my Divorce on the same date this year, I have now created a new little Associated Content piece featuring 15 yummie photos of my Socks. Yay!

As some of my friends and family know, I am indeed a big fan of unique, lovely, sexy, and comfy knee high and thigh high socks. Ooh la la, do I adore them! After a very challenging year for me, it was especially delicious to receive an exciting plethora of unique socks this Christmas (and before and after). You can read about my challenging year by scrolling down to my blog entry below this one and/or you may simply partake of my socks.

I'll admit that Ive been told before I'm too old to be wearing fun socks, but I strongly disagree! I think people should surely feel free to wear what they wish to wear and hold on to their own style until they're 80 or 90 or 100 if they're lucky enough to live that long. So there.

And so below is a link to 15 Sock photos.

(P.S. When I first tried to link to this on my facebook page, I got a note that it contained content that was either 'abusive' or' 'scammy'. Well I know it isn't scammy 'cuz I created it. And since when are sock photos considered abusive? They're not nude sock photos. Does the word 'thigh high' sound abusive or some other word I used? I don't think so, but maybe I don't know. I suddenly started feeling a tidbit worried... Anyway, see for yourself below.)

http://www.associatedcontent.com/slideshow/73584/fun_knee_high_and_thigh_high_sock_extravaganza.html

On January 6 2010, I suffered from a Stroke. On January 6 2011, my husband & I will be getting Divorced.

2011-01-05T21:56:00.006-05:00

Below is a link to my published article that starts with a version of "A Round Thing That Starts with a g" piece posted here a few days ago, but includes more.

A Year that Started with the Wrong Kind of Bang Has Ended; What Comes Next?

Poetry? Passion? I hope so

http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/6187208/a_round_thing_that_starts_with_the.html?cat=5

***

Just in case you do not like the style of Associated Content, I shall also add the entire article below.

A Round Thing that Starts With the Wrong Letter

A year that started with the wrong kind of bang has ended; what comes next?

(On January 6 2010, I suffered from a Stroke. On January 6 2011, my husband & I will be getting Divorced.)

I few days ago, I had a little after-dinner issue that made me feel like crying. Such feelings are nothing new throughout a year that began with me suffering from an unexpected Stroke, but I have been continually recovering and improving, to the point that I think most people who briefly interact with me might not even receive an inkling that anything has affected my brain powers at all. A big part of me really likes that, but it also has its challenging aspects.

Although my reading and writing skills continue to improve, they are still significantly slower than they used to me. Although every month I seem to remember details better, I still do not think I could work a regular job, because after I initially came across as pretty intelligent and productive, how could I explain my inability to memorize new things with quickness, efficiency, or finesse?

And how the heck would I explain my trouble associated with handling easy little words? Food stuff is one example of my easy little word problems. My ongoing issue with food stuff words is what made me feel like crying the other night. Even my poetry used to be brimming with strange and specific food-oriented words, to the extent that a few people thought I had made up my last name, COOK, to fit into my own poetry-fest.

A few nights ago after dinner, my mom handed me a yummy piece of homemade gingerbread (I had to concentrate while typing this to get the word gingerbread) and she put something on it; some white stuff that I cannot remember the word of. I asked her what that white stuff was called and she told me, but I have already forgotten the word again. When she told me the word, I started to tell her what it reminded me of, which was another white thing atop another dessert thing and...

See what I mean? I couldn't think of the word of a dessert product that I have partaken of many times in my life. And I couldn't think of the word of the white stuff on top of that dessert product. Oftentimes, I can think of the first letter of a word even if I can’t think of the whole word. So I said something like "that round thing that starts with a g" and then I began to feel like some sort of an idiot. I was seated at the kitchen table with a group full of people and the best descriptive phrase I could muster was “that round thing that starts with a g".

As it turned out, I didn't even get the first letter right this time. As I tried to describe the dessert product a little better, my mom finally asked if I was talking about Cinnamon Rolls and YES that is what I was talking about. The main reason I had even brought up Cinnamon Rolls was due to an attempt to talk about the white stuff that sometimes appears on top of them, but it took me so long to make it to the word Cinnamon Roll, that after that, I felt overly stressed out and dumb and pretty much just gave up.

I was among a group of people and could not even manage to describe something as well as their little kids would have been able to describe it. I felt like they most likely wanted to play with the kids, rather than spend half an hour trying to concentrate on a disabled adult attempting to figure out easy little words in order to say what I was trying to say, when what I was trying to say was simply a very small description of a white dessert product atop my mom's gingerbread that tasted like a different white dessert product atop some Cinnamon Rolls. I could hardly think of any of the words for a small description that should have lasted about one minute long.

Unfortunately, that is nothing new when I am trying to talk about food (or names or other brief descriptive words), so sometimes I just don’t even try to talk about those things, especially in the midst of group settings as opposed to one on one. Sometimes I find myself worrying about not being able to think of some easy little word in a public setting (which has happened before) and then how the heck should I explain that? I don’t wish to be frequently telling semi-random people who I barely know that I suffered from a Stroke almost a year ago.

It is very frustrating and upsetting to me sometimes, being someone who used to be able to describe things interestingly, uniquely, and EASILY and now I often can't. In addition to the little words, there's the fact that I can't write significant book reviews anymore; I can no longer specifically describe my own viewpoints on stuff like poetry, art, feminism, and much more (and since I would have to concentrate long and hard in order to think of more specific words, I just typed 'and much more').

Overall, I have been feeling less depressed, less negative, and more willing to shift my own style of verbiage around. But every once in a while, an exchange that ought to consist of a simple, easy, quick little description goes awfully wrong and very much bothers me. Sometimes I worry that I am NEVER going to be able to communicate as well as I used to. Sometimes that really makes me feel like breaking down and crying.

***

Several other things have also made me feel like crying lately; one of them is my upcoming Divorce. I recently realized that my Divorce Court Hearing is scheduled to happen on the same date that my Stroke happened last year. I did not choose either of those dates.

My husband could hardly handle my Stroke for even a few months, even though he was not the one who lost part of his brain. He suggested that my personality had changed, but I think the only parts that really changed about me where my problems with maneuvering easy little words, my unfortunate inability to work a regular job, plus the fact that I stopped drinking alcohol as often as I used to. I guess it could be tough when a partner who often was a fun party animal was suddenly overly worried about her own health. I was worried for valid reasons, though. Nobody knew exactly what caused my Stroke and I did not wish to risk my recovery. I understand that the whole situation caused difficult, challenging aspects for my husband too; but I don’t really understand why he often acted as if it was just as difficult for him (or even more so) as it was for me. He told me that others were paying too much attention to me and treating me like a baby. He blurted out the word Divorce and offered me unhappy threats until I went ahead and left our home together and then finally filed for that Divorce.

Now that the Divorce date has almost arrived, he has told me he did not want it, but if that is really the case, than I don’t understand why he was blurting out that word and telling me he needed to move on. He is now filing for Bankruptcy, planning on leaving the state, and leaving me with our unpaid Mortgage and Home Equity Loans. He recently sent me a small Happy New Year note, suggesting that this past year was terrible for both of us, but 2011 would be better for both of us. In a way, that almost made me feel like screaming, “Your brain is the same as it’s always been! And soon, you will be gone from the state and our unpaid bills will all be in my name! So I guess 2011 will be better for YOU!”

In the course of one year, I lost parts of my brain, my husband, and am now in the process of losing my good credit. Even though I have never in my life been a big credit card user, my husband was and now I am forced to suffer the results of that, which will ruin my credit for 7-10 years. In addition to that stress, I sometimes feel quite unhappy that I am a 38 year old woman who is temporarily living with my parents and does not know when that will change; does not know when I will be able to work a regular job again, and more.

I know I am lucky to be alive and to have the power to choose for myself how to best move on with my life, but sometimes I have mixed feelings about HOW to move on and what my life ought to focus on next. Losing the man who I thought was a real love partner makes me feel more uncomfortable about long term relationships in general, yet one on one interaction is quite important to me, especially if that interaction is with someone I feel strongly about and love. I can’t allow myself to lose my credibility, my passion, my interest and adoration in myself and others. I can’t allow myself to lose my sweet snippets of happiness, poeticism and love of truly unique communication.

I need to focus on the fact that some very fun encounters have happened this past year too. I have made a few new wonderful friends who are poets and artists. I have participated in extraordinary poetry readings involving furry Typewriter Girls and movie filming involving Haunted Hotels filled with ghosts and zombies and other darkly delicious creativity.

Even though my reading and writing is still slower, I have maintained my passionate adoration for poetry. I have continued to handle my own online literary publication, Thirteen Myna Birds. I created two new poetry chapbooks for my print publishing endeavor, Blood Pudding Press. I will soon be publishing another Blood Pudding Press chapbook of my own as part of a vast creative entity called the Dusie Kollektiv; that chapbook will include my new Post-Stroke poems. I even assembled and started submitting my second full-length poetry manuscript.

In addition to staying artistically creative and visiting new friends several times, I also visited two long time extra-special close friends of mine, one of whom I have been connecting with a great deal. I do have some delectably scrumptious one on one time available in my present and future, as long as I am able to focus significantly and passionately upon what should come next within my remaining lifetime.

***

Juliet’s very first small article about her Stroke – “Post-Stroke Survival and Sad Little Blues” - http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/2807396/poststroke_survival_and_sad_little.html?cat=70

Juliet’s second article about her Stroke and also about her Poetry – “Full Length Dissection” - http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/5602556/full_length_dissection.html?cat=70

Juliet’s third article about her Stroke and Poetry, posted on her own blog & linked to by Big Tent Poetry - “Doll Injection Mold Disaster” – http://bigtentpoetry.org/2010/08/sideshow-finding-the-words/

Juliet’s ‘Horrific Confection” website (find out more about her Poetry and other Creative Endeavors – http://www.julietcook.weebly.com/

Dark Dessert in Progress

2011-01-04T22:57:00.000-05:00

"From a fabulous creature to a throw away/
poison-induced creme brulee paraclete..."

Vaticanal/"Amazons of Vaginal Resistance"

2011-01-02T13:48:00.006-05:00

Oddly scrumptious writer Letizia Merello has written another peculiarly delicious article about my poetry, yay!

This article appears in an online magazine called Vaticanal and here is the link:

http://vaticanal.blogspot.com/

If interested, you need to download the magazine. Leti's piece appears on page 30.

Just so you know, some of the Vaticanal content happens to be semi-pornographic (in an artsy kind of way), so if you're not into that sort of thing, then you might not wanna click the link.

Also, the magazine's content is in Italian and so is Leti's piece. If you can't read Italian, but are interested in her article, an English version appears below.

***

"Ladies and gentlemen, the curtain rises on the massacre of the dignity of cunt. The last bulwark of resistance to today's aesthetic rules seems to have finally succumbed, my ladies, except for those of you who hide between their thighs something looking like a worn purse or a dressed-leather loafer. Will you, the amazons of vaginal resistance, be able to resist the temptation of flattering rejuvenation surgery?

Vagina d'autore

Le sue rosee labbra smerlate si schiudono, una varietà carnosa
di bocca di leone. Un trattamento insolito ma efficace è
l'uso del batticarne: la rende così deliziosamente insensibile,
è come legare quattro arti fantasma a quattro cavalli e intervenire
chirurgicamente, come l'applauso di un pubblico al lieve tremolìo di quei lobi.

"Cos'è, una gara fra anoressiche a chi mangia più torte?"
L'urlo viene da uno spettatore estremamente partecipe.
"Forza! Dentro!" e alla fine sventrano:
uno che traffica freneticamente in mezzo alle gambe,
l'altro che si dà da fare con la lobotomia.

È ridotta proprio male, ma presto i resti saranno soltanto dolci
petit-four. Carni nauseanti da salassare, quindi isolare.
Una volta ottenuto l'effetto puntura d'ape, quel nido di vespe furioso
dev'essere suturato. Tutto sta nel soddisfare quegli
scarabocchi rosa, quelle piccole ali inadatte al volo.

Designer Vagina

Her pink scalloped lips part, a meatier variety
of snapdragon. A strange but effective treatment
is meat tenderizer. Then she’s so deliciously numb,
it’s like tying phantom limbs to four horses & performing
surgery, as an audience applauds those delicately trembling lobes.

“What is this, a pie eating contest for anorexics?”
shouts one overzealous clapper from the crowd.
“Get in there! Giddyup!” and they tear in--
one furiously working between the legs;
one serving point on the lobotomy.

She’s a real mess, but soon every remnant will be sweet
petit fours. Cloying meat must be leeched, then cloistered.
After the bee-sting effect is achieved, her angry hornet nest
must be sewn shut. It’s all about pleasing
pink squiggles and tiny flightless wings.

Juliet Cook, poet, publisher and author of this poem, is used to rummage in troubled waters with irony and coquetterie, but never afraid to get her hands dirty. Her Designer Vaginas are partly inspired by the latest craze, that is to become highly-fuckable Barbies in all respects. The Designer Vaginas series poems, a poetic squirt in the face of advocates and supporters of this trend, show that, thank Satan, beauty can survive even during a surgical procedure that seeks to kill her with standardization. Would you like more of this? Other creatures, mutilated and caramelized, are shaking their legs and tentacles on http://julietcook.weebly.com/."

A Round Thing that Starts With the Wrong Letter

2011-01-01T16:38:00.013-05:00

(A year that started with the wrong kind of bang has ended; what comes next?)

I few days ago, I had a little after-dinner issue that made me feel like crying. These feelings are nothing new throughout a year that began with me suffering from an unexpected Stroke, but I have been continually recovering and improving, to the point that I think most people who briefly interact with me might not even receive an inkling that anything has affected my brain powers at all. A big part of me really likes that, but it also has its challenging aspects.

Although my reading and writing skills continue to get better and better thank goodness, they are still significantly slower than they used to me. Although every month, I seem to remember details better, I still do not think I could work a regular job, because after I initially came across as pretty intelligent and productive, how could I explain my inability to memorize new things with quickness or efficiency?

And how the heck would I explain my ongoing trouble associated with handling easy little words? Food stuff is one example of those easy little words and my ongoing issue with food stuff words is what made me feel like crying the other night. Even my poetry used to be brimming with strange and specific food-oriented words, to the extent that a few people thought I had made up my last name, COOK, to fit into my own poetry-fest.

A few nights ago after dinner, my mom handed me a yummy piece of homemade gingerbread (I had to concentrate while typing this to get the word gingerbread) and she put something on it; some white stuff that I cannot remember the word of. I asked her what that white stuff was called and she told me, but I have already forgotten that word again. When she told me the word, I started to tell her what it reminded me of, which was another white thing atop another dessert thing and...

See what I mean? I couldn't think of the word of a dessert product that I have partaken of many times in my life. And I couldn't think of the word of the white stuff on top of that dessert product. Oftentimes, I can think of the first letter of a word even if I can’t think of the whole word. So I said something like "that round thing that starts with a g" and then I began to feel like some sort of an idiot, because here I was seated at the kitchen table with a group of people and the best descriptive phrase I could muster was “that round thing that starts with a g".

As it turned out, I didn't even get the first letter right this time. As I tried to describe the dessert product a little better, my mom finally asked if I was talking about Cinnamon Rolls and YES that is what I was talking about. And the main reason I had even brought up Cinnamon Rolls was due to an attempt to talk about the white product that sometimes appears on top of them, but it took me so long to make it to the word Cinnamon Roll, that after that, I felt overly stressed out and dumb and pretty much just gave up.

Here I was among a group of people and could not even manage to describe certain things as well as their little kids would have been able to describe it. I felt like they most likely would rather play with the kids, rather than spend half an hour trying to concentrate on a disabled adult attempting to figure out easy little words in order to say what I was trying to say, when what I was trying to say was simply a very small description of a white dessert product atop my mom's gingerbread that tasted like a different white dessert product atop some Cinnamon Rolls. I could hardly think of any of the words for a small description that should have lasted about one minute long.

Unfortunately, that is nothing new when I am trying to talk about food (or names or other brief descriptions), so sometimes I just don’t even try to talk about those things, especially in the midst of group settings as opposed to one on one. Sometimes I find myself worrying about not being able to think of some easy little word in a public setting (which has happened before) and then how the heck should I explain that? I don’t really feel like telling semi-random people who I barely know that I suffered from a Stroke almost a year ago.

It's so frustrating and upsetting to me sometimes, being someone who used to be able to describe things interestingly, uniquely, and EASILY and now I often can't. In addition to the little words, there's the fact that I can't write significant book reviews anymore; I can no longer specifically describe my own viewpoints on stuff like poetry, art, feminism, and much more (and since I would have to concentrate long and hard in order to think of more specific words, I just typed 'and much more').

Overall, I have been feeling less depressed, less negative, and more willing to interestingly shift my own verbiage around. But every once in a while, an exchange that ought to consist of a simple, easy, quick little conversation goes awfully wrong and really upsets me. Sometimes I worry that I am NEVER going to be able to communicate as well as I used to. Sometimes that makes me feel like crying.

***

(This is a short version of a small article I am currently working on. I hope to complete and publish a slightly longer version on my Associated Content site soon. If you are interested, stay tuned.)

Split Heart Fulfillment

2010-12-31T23:45:00.003-05:00

It is a Darkly Delicious Happy New Year featuring a masterpiece of new innards from poets J.R. Pearson, Jason Sturner, Tanuj Solanki, and Nathan Moore – plus poisonous drinks by artists Kalli Schulz, Mary Roxette, and silentkitty using the body & face of fiendish male model Jason Baca. Dig into this hideously scrumptious feast and prepare to be aroused!

Many of the lines in the post below are snipped from the NEW poems in Thirteen Myna Birds; read more here!

http://13myna.blogspot.com/

Venus spatters wet retinas, icicles caught on the roof top of an iris, an honest atrocity, liquids full of sugar, rumors numb, birds flutter in gossip, require necromantic imaginations, do your best work, dear demon!

Thrift Store Winter Hats

2010-12-30T22:10:00.006-05:00

The first Hat cost 50 cents; the second Hat cost $1.00. Slurp.

Scroll down below for more artsy doodads including fun socks, PJ Harvey art video, Thirteen Myna Birds news, and a little Post-Stroke blurbage.

New Post-Stroke/Thirteen Myna Birds coming soon...

2010-12-30T17:24:00.006-05:00

My Stroke happened almost a year ago now and here is the little article I wrote about it a few months thereafter. I am currently working on a new little article, to be posted soon. So read the old version and prepare for the new.

http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/2807396/poststroke_survival_and_sad_little.html?cat=70

Also partake of the old Thirteen Myna Birds, because an all new version of that delectable offering shall be posted tomorrow, as a special dark New Year's Eve feast.

http://13myna.blogspot.com/

P.S. Socks made yummy Xmas delights for me, especially socks from Sock Dreams.

Here's a little peak (click on the link for more of my scrumptious socks photos).

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=265244&id=842512457&l=d6d2fec9cb

The Devil

2010-12-30T17:07:00.004-05:00

Because she saw I liked PJ HARVEY, a woman on facebook sent me a link to this unofficial artsy video she made for the PJ Harvey song 'The Devil' and I love it (the song of course but also her darkly awesome video)! Artist's name is Karen Mary.

Gingerbread Ghosts & Santa Frogs

2010-12-23T16:31:00.005-05:00