Saturn is slowly retrograding and its square to Pluto will be exact in some time. Jupiter is breezing through Pisces and applying a sextile to Pluto. And the fickle Moon will soon quincunx the Dark Lord.
My evening has been rife with Pluto peeking at me: a non-astrological reference in a conversation, a poem that kept whispering in my ear and then a chance click on a link that led me to another very Plutonian poem.
Oh, and Salinger is dead. The full moon today opposes his natal Mars exactly. Franny, Zooey, Buddy, Boo Boo and her little boy, Seymour, and all the people in the other stories: we love you.
Death, darkness, desire. Yes, very Pluto. I believe he was the inspiration for these poems:
The Sick Rose
O Rose, thou art sick!
The Invisible worm,
That flies in the night,
In the howling storm,
Has found out thy bed
Of Crimson joy;
And his dark secret love
Does thy life destroy.
- William Blake
Death the Leveler
The glories of our blood and state
Are shadows, not substantial things;
There is no armor against Fate;
Death lays his icy hand on kings:
Scepter and Crown
Must tumble down,
And in the dust be equal made
With the poor crooked scythe and spade.
Some men with swords may reap the field,
And plant fresh laurels where they kill:
But their strong nerves at last must yield;
They tame but one another still:
Early or late
They stoop to fate,
And must give up their murmuring breath
When they, pale captives, creep to death.
The garlands wither on your brow,
Then boast no more your mighty deeds!
Upon Death’s purple altar now
See where the victor-victim bleeds.
Your heads must come
To the cold tomb:
Only the actions of the just
Smell sweet and blossom in their dust.
- James Shirley
But running parallel with all of this is Paul McCartney’s very sweet Hope of Deliverance. And then, there is the Leo Full Moon…