Unused Potential

From dreammoods.com dream interpretation:
To see a blank check in your dream symbolizes your unused potential. It may also indicate unclaimed rewards.

How about several blank checkbooks in the mail from my bank? Ha Ha! I must be awesome!
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Many people might be interested in Dream Telepathy: Scientific Studies in the Paranormal BTW check it out on Amazon or wherever you can find it. Their research protocols seemed solid to me when I read it several years ago.
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From twitter.com/tribalephemeral (or will be soon):
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Anyone, meet everyone
Someone, meet no one
That one, meet this one
Young one, meet old one
http://amzn.to/1Klzoyz
#poetry #ebook #ziggomatic
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Be the first to review! (email cooper.dozier@gmail.com for free copy with review commitment (eventual))
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“it rankles suburbia to know these things”
#the-driftwood-of-our-lives-washed-up-on-some-foreign-shore
http://amzn.to/1Osm1R2 #ebook #poetry
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4.5 stars out of 2 reviews by pro (unpaid) reviewers!

Two Free eBooks!

Two free ebooks (one unpublished) to people who will read and do a brief review on Amazon and Goodreads and mention at least 3 times on your social media of The Driftwood of Our Lives Washed Up on Some Foreign Shore. Limit 5 for now.

Samples at Look Inside (Amazon) book page and at my website. Also check out my facebook Lostinmist Twitter tribal ephemeral and my Tumblr tribal ephemeral

Change of Course: One Major Insight

It has come to my attention that continuing to post a lot of material to this blog will interfere with my career goals, in several ways. One, there is the time. Two, there is the inability to use previously published material in most(?) literary journals/magazines. On the other hand, it is nice to have my stuff out there and being read and liked. But I have other necessary career goals, too, like finding a paying job, starting, completing, and going live with a website for a friend (also paying), improving my web design skills and portfolio, getting an A+  certification and perhaps other certs, writing more carefully written and less repetitive poetry, and doing sites and development for louisvillepoetry.net and louisvilleliteracy.net (and trying to sell louisvilleventurefund.com).

So. I will be posting much less poetry, though perhaps more other stuff. I may stop posting poetry altogether, as if it is good enough for me to put out there for 314 (pi!) people to see, perhaps I should consider submitting it to a literary journal, since, unlike contests, they don’t charge reading fees, and I can’t write an unlimited number of awesome poems to submit to so many journals. I have recently found the ways to do this, the traditional way to break into the literary world (which can happen even without a degree thankfully; but I AM going back to finish my degree in liberal studies, which is not what I started in, either time. But I graduate in one semester). As follows:
Ultimate guide to getting published in literary magazines
Top 50 Literary Magazines
These have really showed me what I need to do to begin to build a career and audience, instead of all the shortcuts and cut corners and internet jiggery pokery I’ve been trying. Also, you should submit not only to the top fifty but to smaller magazines that are more of a ‘fit’ for you (less competition, but potentially no money. but you get a credential and may connect to the audience more). It will be time consuming to find what is perhaps a good fit for me, and I have not begun yet. And some of these things still require snail mail (cuts down on the slush pile, I imagine).
All that said, my first book is still available on Amazon as a kindle file: The Driftwood of Our Lives Washed Up on Some Foreign Shore, and if it actually started selling, I might release another that way.
And I will pursue Patreon for a while My Still Rough Pitch Page and you don’t have to give the $7 per month that it is auto filled with. That level has a special reward, which is subject to change. All donors will get free electronic files of Unreal Demonoids and the Tale of We the Many or something like that I’m not sure if I changed the wording of the title, when polishing is finished, which I would be more inclined to do if I had at least one donor, but I suppose since I’m offering it as a reward, I should get on it so people can get it right away. One more reason I can’t blog much anymore.
And I may set other goals on Patreon, such as a goal for 250 print-on-demand copies of a manuscript, like the one I submitted to the Tupelo Press Sunken Garden chapbook contest. The monthly donations I have my Patreon account set up for (not a per ‘thing’ payment, as I think that might charge people every time I post there) can be canceled anytime, and with people who do charge per ‘thing’ you can set a limit on how much you spend on each of them each month.
Also there will be patron only posts, if things begin to go right.

And I hate to add to my competition, but I came across this thing on twitter today, a poetry contest with no reading fee, from Amazon:
Amazon Little a Poetry Contest

So. I have to apply to some jobs (what hopeless drudgery) and do some code for Mack today (what interesting drudgery!) and have a lot of work ahead of me preparing to begin submitting to magazines. And possibly clearing a bunch of stuff off this blog so I can submit it (no one will know it was out there before, muahahaha. I think).
There will be less poetry here but there will be some non-poetry. And I suppose I’ll keep you posted on my progress on this venture.

In closing, a poem from this morning (not a facebook poem, a paper poem) (which was preceded by some freewriting, which I have not done much at all in a long time):

One Major Insight
The check is in the mail
The dividends you will reap
All the plays of the poetry
And now metamorphosing into work
No more shortcuts
Look for smaller literary magazines, too
2 hrs looking for a job
2 hrs working for Mack
4 hrs looking into literary magazines
And selecting pieces to send
Or more
20 minutes clearing email
Take your pills
All the coffee you need
Remember to eat
And shop for food
Day 1 no cigarettes
And I am free
A little too early, still
To look for girls
But we’ll see what happens
pen

DO NOT MARRY BUT FUCK

The music of the mice was always going to put you a little off kilter
But each day the storm passed, and with each passing of the storm, the giant red spot went further off
The music of the mice was of the eerieness of the sunlight on the day before you meet your doom
And in the mines of Moria, the passing notes became the demonic monsters of hatred
And in the elven forest, the passing notes became the ethereal trill of awe
But playing on your harmonica and harmonizing, you take no notice of impending events
Each and every witch way, the horcrux was but of the appearance of a lonely lowly onion
And speaking as a witch, I say to you thus:
—– do not diminish but screw, do not marry but fuck, do not recover but imbibe, do not respond but get down; every witch way is the path to ecstatic peace, while every cross way is the path to unending sorrow; the fascitis of the jaw is as the neuralgia of the cerebellum; in all of it smoke got in your eyes, and the lightning up of the hippocampal cells betokened burgeoning health; but seeing the rabid masses coming for you, depart through your tunnel, and never must you return home
~ But speaking as of the which ones but not as if who but as if the other, but also that, and on occasion otherwise, the ever felicitous me of We of All the Small Ones averred thusly:
—– in it there were flocks of meandering populaces and each as of the other became the gems of one anothers’ hearts; the gobbledygook of the planes notwithstanding, the great elder outer old ones were napping this eon, and so we were left to be killed only by each other, not by the debilitating THEM, and in all the whalings of the African continent, our birds denoted failure, and in failure we rejoiced, having ever something more to do, and not as of which but of now, we must go
~ and in the chthonic twilight we averred and gamboled on into the swamp, and the drama not piling as we had no one left to us, we did not care, nor did we give a fuck, nor did we give a shit, nor did we give two rats (although we did give about half a rat), for failure was our fate, and the indifference of the others could not be contested, for thus our standing had long been lost
And confidence gaining we went on to entrance, and marketing on our merry way became different from what we had been, and oh, in so many ways

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Book Release v.2

Much improved second edition of The Driftwood of Our Lives Washed Up on Some Foreign Shore will be out for kindle/kindle app before midnight. Turns out I had left some major weaknesses in v.1 without noticing, but they have been excised and I think about 5-7 poems added. Get it, you won’t regret it! Still only $2.99 and free to kindle unlimited users with DRM switched off both ways. Tell everyone you know, help make me a smashing success! For updates on future publications watch here, or for updates that don’t roll off your feed, psychicfuguestudio.net. If you like my worj here, know that stuff I right here is often dashed off and unedited, while the book has been culled to doneness. Worth many rereading in my opinion. Be the first to rate and review!

New eBook Release!!!

My first manuscript, The Driftwood of Our Lives Washed Up on Some Foreign Shore, is now available as an Amazon eBook. It is $2.99 and 30 pages. Please share and enjoy! I published a couple excerpts of it on here yesterday, but here they are again:

INTERLUDE 3

The driftwood of our lives
Washed up on some foreign shore
We glistened
But the sun was not amiable
It was fierce
Our dominance was unquestioned
But we knew not how to live
A spiritual deadening
Infected the nation-state
There was no truth in advertising
And all our wars came to naught
Consumer culture reigned
Even as millions languished
Permanently jobless
The driftwood of our lives
Washed up on some foreign shore
We did not recognize our new homes
But the animals and winds around us
Did not pause for our alienation
They went about their business
And we, perplexed,
Eventually tried haltingly
To get on with ours

Or, wait I actually removed and replaced the introduction before I published it. Here is the new starting gun:

*REMEMBER THESE THINGS

The tangled flow of lives
In your workings, remember three things:
One, never look down on mushrooms
Two, do not insult your customers
Three, bring your lives to fruition
In your direct actions, remember these four:
The situation is not normal
The collected dreams of the people are at a place of power
Refrain from rudeness
Chant loudly, raucously, and bawdily
In your home, three again
Bring ever peace unto it
Stand on the threshold a moment before going through
Cook with consciousness

Incidentally I enabled unlimited sharing….