march poetry horoscope

by Nathan Moore

Aries March 20 — April 19
If you leave the house with an industrial magnet hidden under your hat this week, you could lose your footing when the bus arrives. The fates are sending you messages on street signs. If the “Don’t Walk” sign flashes your name in Morse code, you might want to step into traffic. Don’t.

Taurus April 20 — May 19
The only grease you can stand to eat this week is that of the soul. Do not act as if this is inflammable. And, whining about lubricant isn’t apt to lessen the friction. The gears are grinding on your conscience. Really. Now you may weep with the “deep fryer” and tremble with the “funnel cake.”

Gemini May 20 — June 20
OK. While in a blue funk, you decide to sell yourself to Cirque du Soleil. And now you wear a sequined leotard to the bank and hang from a silk ribbon every night by your teeth. Well, you’re cured. Nevertheless, life isn’t all gasping crowds. You may be double-jointed but your memories move in a single direction …

Cancer June 21 — July 21
Are you going to hold on like a praying mantis on the side of a freight train? It’s up to you to realize that not all words rhyme with “faster.” So, as soon as you embrace the disaster and master your fear of cuttlefish, you might want to chew when you eat.

Leo July 22 — Aug. 22
You will loosen the links of your leash on Monday to accommodate the rearrangement of the furniture. Accordingly, you leap from carpet to couch. In fact, some of you posses the patience to climb nearly to the ceiling from a point on the windowsill. So, I hear that you nap on a futon and your dinner plate does not have a “utensils” next to it.

Virgo Aug. 23 — Sept. 21
Let me sketch how you may feel restless, as if carnivorous plants were nibbling at the backs of your knees. Because this sensation is “groundless,” you can’t explain the vegetable oil to your spouse, only that you must wear it. Fortunately, on Monday, the vinyl upholstery finally arrives. Now you can sit without being still.

Libra Sept. 22 — Oct. 22
Why go on a pilgrimage to the poetry workshop? You can’t present your villanelle without someone screeching “help!” or picking at their toenails. You wonder if you can skip every other word or apply florescent paint to your body? Now? Nobody understands your use of the word “the.” Still, it should be useful to remember where you parked the car …

Scorpio Oct. 23 — Nov. 21
If you spare yourself the task of alphabetizing your enemies list until this weekend, you will find it a life — affirming exercise. Especially if you decorate the document with stickers that smell of pine and the ocean. Perhaps this organizational spirit, combined with an abdominal tattoo of a roadmap, will be able to help focus your overall project …

Sagittarius Nov. 22 — Dec. 20
Helicopters and rainwater will be your constant companions this weekend, by noon on Monday, the sky will clear everywhere but over your street. But, this week your laptop requires an exorcism. Right now you insert willow twigs in its USB port and massage it with sesame oil. In terms of direction, you may not be “oriented,” but gravity only pulls one way.

Capricorn Dec. 21 — Jan. 18
It’s time for you to learn a lesson: rub yourself with sea salt and translate “The Grapes of Wrath” into Esperanto. What’s the use of dressing the dining room chairs in formal wear if you’re just going to sleep in the basement? May as well coat the neighbor’s minivan in petroleum jelly instead of asking her goat to the movies. Plus, it gives you an excuse for sitting in the driveway.

Aquarius Jan. 19 — Feb. 17
You may think you’re growing gills and you stenography is flawless, but if you’re having email conversations with yourself, you’ll soon understand you’ve been recording your actions on YouTube. This should be you. Instead of wandering in front of a camera, try installing solar panels on your bike helmet. You’ll earn the admiration of pedestrians and no one has to be horrified.

Pisces Feb. 18 — March 19
Melancholy is wandering through your living room like a bear on roller skates. You’re lathered for the shower whether you need to be washed or not — so you may as well groom yourself for postcards. I guess now we rinse and wonder why soap costs so much more than pasta …

Nathan Moore is community director and columnist for Read Write Poem. In his spare time, he plays with his children and with fire. Never at the same time. He blogs at Exhaust Fumes and French Fries.

february poetry horoscope

by Nathan Moore

Capricorn, Dec. 21 — Jan. 19
Follow your instincts and make more enemies. Not even Billy goats in your lingerie can break the curse. On Wednesday, however, the enraged mob becomes less threatening than the sight of barnyard animals rooting in your sock drawer, which as we’ve discussed, should be taken seriously.

Aquarius, Jan. 20 — Feb. 18
It is the beginning of your new career in phrenology. Meanwhile, knobby skulls are out there waiting for interpretive fondling. So, when you pet your first patient’s cranium, try the following to break the ice: “Wow. Are those antlers?”

Pisces, Feb. 19 — March 19
This is the day to think about where you want to vacation. Hey, maybe you will be leased to a foreign government for scientific experiments. If you’re wealthy, you will agree that hours spent rubbing yourself with dimes should include antibacterial lotion afterward. And, if you’re worried about exotic foods, you’ll need to bring lots of white bread for the road.

Aries, March 20 — April 19
The visitations continue on the right side of your peripheral vision until Saturday night. (For now, pull a pillowcase over your head or wear welding goggles when you drive.) On Tuesday night, your machine (the partner) gets mugged up in Kansas City. Don’t forget to drown everything that can be used against you later — from the sheet set to the gift receipt.

Taurus, April 20 — May 19
Your anatomy should become more crowded over the next few weeks. As for your eye stalks, hide them in your fedora when the police stop you on the side walk. Knit mittens for the tips of your tentacles — especially those that are not fur-covered. Make sure your toes are flexible and your earlobes are attached.

Gemini, May 20 — June 20
Whether you’re dripping pine-scented candle wax in your navel, feeding rice to your leopard with a spatula or accompanying your clone to the plastic surgeon’s office, you’re doomed to fail. But, falling asleep in your leotard just means you have a problem with setting goals. Your hands are in the casserole? Well, then. Dinner awaits.

Cancer, June 21 — July 21
A violent tremor just under your left eye only occurs in the bank lobby when you want to withdraw cash. On Wednesday, evil spirits enter your checkbook. Remember that your account is going to crumble and agents are searching for your birth certificate. May I suggest new identities for you and your pets?

Leo, July 22 — Aug 22
Both horseflies and thunderstorms are under the purview of your will. So, it is your responsibility to choose the right town where you can punish your enemies with lightning and insects. Going out with your friends to accept a public apology? Enjoy.

Virgo, Aug. 23 — Sept. 21
Your fear of root vegetables can be attributed to a bad experience with a parsnip. Was that too personal? You can’t avoid the grocery store, my friend. Saturday morning is when you’re scheduled to meet one of those “monsters.” Meaning, you’ll make soup. OK, now it’s time to nuzzle a carrot.

Libra, Sept. 22 — Oct. 22
The map is in your unconscious and your unconscious is in the back pocket of your jeans. Do you wonder what made that sound? It’s a reminder. “The Club” will meet in your office on Tuesday. As for the weekend, try automatic writing to find your way home.

Scorpio, Oct. 23 — Nov. 21
The mediocre news is — you’re able to let go of that dream of living in your bathtub. The unpleasant news is — your neighbor has decorated his apartment with braunschweiger. On Wednesday, your creativity (expressed by an all-magenta wardrobe) will be ridiculed by a dachshund doing something unspeakable to your cowboy boots.

Sagittarius, Nov. 22 — Dec. 20
A former president of the United States will use a slightly insulting email to punish you over the weekend. Because of your consistently clever interior monologue, you retain a great affection for yourself. You desire validation — an assistant on the elevator with a horned helmet and spear? Hmm. Would you settle for a constitutional amendment?

Nathan Moore is community director and columnist for Read Write Poem. In his spare time, he plays with his children and with fire. Never at the same time. He blogs at Exhaust Fumes and French Fries.

january poetry horoscopes: a perfect misunderstanding

by Nathan Moore

Capricorn, Dec. 21 — Jan. 19
A rotten cell phone connection could make this a perfect misunderstanding. You believe talking for the sake of communication is essential as you are in the midst of a delusion concerning your voice. Nevertheless, in order to chat through machines you should remain out of the vicinity of strangers who want to steal your larynx. Static is a language. Call me.

Aquarius, Jan. 20 — Feb. 18
Apocalyptic signs emphasize the sense of doom you’re feeling about what you need to do with your empathy. Whether to snuff out your sadness, your compassion, or some combination of the two is the crucial question. For now, all you have to do is decide what you’re wearing to the party and which affect you’re going to eat. You can swallow that, can’t you?

Pisces, Feb. 19 — March 19
After years of having the same face in your mirror, you are yearning to change the scenery. For those of you who know what to do — brighten an eye, or pull hair out of a nostril — congratulations. You enjoy the look of shaved eyebrows, but you’re hesitant to replace them with carpet. Now you just have to decide what you want your forehead to do when you blink.

Aries, March 20 — April 19
Certain business cards in your blazer pocket require attention from the hypothalamus. A message from the pineal gland scratched on your sleeve suggests this is a good time to hide in the attic. Send poems over the street into the minds of your neighbors; and/or consider the efficacy of a bull horn. Cancel the notion of publication and learn intense concentration instead.

Taurus, April 20 — May 19
Social issues are easy to avoid this month. And, since you are not springing fully formed from the center of an ostrich egg, you may as well stop being aloof and irritable with your other identities. For the next six hours, enlist a neighbor who can help you arrange shower curtains and web cams. No more inner conflict during long hours spent indoors — how simple is that?

Gemini, May 20 — June 20
Even the shiniest doorknob should be cleaned with an alcohol wipe before tasting. Don’t allow your sense of proliferating bacteria keep you from giving the bus window a curious lick. Nibble a stapler, savor the gas station’s cash register, or sip a spoonful of puddle water. You know what they say, “You can’t dance if you don’t take your shoes off.”

Cancer, June 21 — July 21
I know you want to make anatomically correct origami figures for your literary dioramas. Those of you who are skilled enough to recreate scenes from Madame Bovary may want to consider the connection between those intricate folds of paper and certain plot points. Time to start creasing that corset.

Leo, July 22 — Aug. 22
The big dilemma is that your cousin (the weirdo) gets pleasure from secretly cutting other people’s hair in movie theaters. This could bring anything from a police investigation to a lawsuit from beauty parlors and barbers. My answer? OK, since you begged: Use your influence with city council to get an ordinance protecting rogue collectors.

Virgo, Aug. 23 — Sept. 21
While searching the library for instances of lurid coin scholarship, you compulsively finger the change in your pocket. You may have to squint, but the face on the dime is salacious. Look again. If you continue your research with no results, go back to the reference librarian in your raincoat.

Libra, Sept. 22 — Oct. 22
The microwave oven has a malevolent leer that would intimidate the bravest cook at dinnertime. However, before you process all your food in the blender, consider that migratory birds will move into your kitchen on Friday and remain there for the rest of the season. Start toasting those cheese sandwiches under a warm goose.

Scorpio, Oct. 23 — Nov. 21
You get well-deserved recognition for your contortionist skills this weekend when a news crew joins the shouting fans and armed guards in your front yard. So, figure out what you want to say with your foot in your armpit before the media becomes saturated with your image. Meanwhile, a moth is trying to land on your eyelid.

Sagittarius, Nov. 22 — Dec. 20
The sea water in your can of shaving cream can cause your heart to palpitate. Because of this, you ought not to collect groceries from sunken ships, play with bullets from ancient battlefields or bathe in yellow mustard. And even then, your toiletries should avoid the usual health hazards: candied fruit, soap and drywall screws.

Nathan Moore is community director and columnist for Read Write Poem. In his spare time, he plays with his children and with fire. Never at the same time. He blogs at Exhaust Fumes and French Fries.

read write poem news

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    June 20, 2010 | 1:36 pm

    The Read Write Poem NaPoWriMo Anthology is still in production. Selection, placement, layout and copyediting are taking longer than anticipated. Thank you for your patience. I hope to have the piece completed in July. For those who have emailed asking if they can be included, the May 7 deadline for submission of work stands. Those who met that deadline will be included. Please check the post on this site listing who I received submissions from by that date. If you submitted your work by the May 7 deadline in accordance with our guidelines and your name is not listed, send an email to info (at) readwritepoem (dot) org.

  • read write poem napowrimo anthology
    May 5, 2010 | 3:09 pm

    Remember that Friday* is the deadline for submitting work to the Read Write Poem NaPoWriMo Anthology. Check out the guidelines for submission in the main column (to the left). On May 8, we’ll post a news item listing everyone we’ve received work from. If you submitted work and your name is not on that list, please let us know. Thanks!

    *I initially said “tomorrow,” but I meant to say “Friday.”

  • napowrimo congratulations, and a reminder
    April 24, 2010 | 12:05 pm

    It’s the final week of the Read Write Poem NaPoWriMo Challenge! Just 7 days left. With that, a reminder that Read Write Poem will culminate with the anthology featuring work from those who complete the challenge. A post with details for submitting to the anthology will be published May 1. Be sure you remove any information from the site that you want preserved — such as group content and personal messages. Those elements of the site will be removed May 1 as well. The main site will remain up as an archive.

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    January Gill O’Neil’s virtual book tour has moved to her site and is underway now. Check out the lineup at Poet Mom.

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