On Work & On Practice & On Flow (+ status update)

Sleep deprived

Coffee to go

Getting beyond self

To make it to appointments

“I would say I was ready before, but there were, uh, unexpected things” “But my attitude has definitely shifted a lot since then…”

To the bus, to the bus. Who needs to drive? Criminal record be damned, I can get a job tomorrow…

A place in the city. Freedom demands it, when you’ve lost or never had car or license. The only way to fly!

Assaultive night spirit driven away with a popcorn like sound. The bedroom safe again, meditation with preset intention continues to solve problems on 1st try

Eleven shades of shadow, focus and define and gravitate to your aims. Inch by step by milligram.

A spin and a swirl, stabbing deeper into anti-tragedian thought

Music changes roles, rights reverse and refactor, shades of grey fade into fires of practice fitting

Yet to move to one side also means letting go another

Practice practice practice, and prioritize.. See that you hold loosely to the thread, neither white-knuckling nor letting fall

Call on your spirits & angels & deities & demonoids & philosophical scaffolds whenever you wish; memorize the few prayers, or write more, when it suits your fancy

Let be, let be, let be, let do … Bonkajeedevi, a key to rememberance of crucial things not to forget

Align but do not toil. X marks your targets; yet recall & recall & recall, for you, the focus is your needs, not the wailing Worlds’

So be real and enraptured; let not fantasy become Elephant Overrun # ;


Got submission done for POETRY Magazine last night. The contest I was submitting the same things to is temporarily closed because they reached their limit on freebies from Submittable for the month, so that’ll have to wait until 11/1. But they allow 8 pieces not 4, so perhaps I’ll make more ready by then.. Also a haiku contest coming due. Submit only 1! The challenge! I do not often write haiku, but I wrote 16 before bed last night. I started many of them, but only double started one. Almost finished with final revision of my 2nd book, but being broke, have to start bringing in paychecks before Dad will back me for BookBaby. It will be getting an entirely* new title & cover, as well as some corrections, but no major structural changes or additions or deletions (possibly to add some art though?) except to cut 3 sub-par* and mismatched appendices. Version 1 with wrong formatting here: Ziggomatic Keys (*& Synaptic Syntactic &*)

1st published manuscript: The Driftwood of Our Lives Washed Up On Some Foreign Shore

BookBaby will push to 60 or 70 ebook markets in all formats, not just Amazon, for $150. The total package for ebook/print (+100 copies)/print on demand & fulfillment, with all the goodies that entails runs to around $1400 for my particular needs and without getting them to do my cover design..

Psychic Fugue Studio ::::: TribalEphemeral on Twitter ::::: This Blog’s Facebook Page

The most important attention for your work is your attention (&time)….

To-Do Lists & Organization & Wholeness

In to-do lists, make time loosely blocked, yet if there is a fixed set that has shortly worked, do not neglect to consider it.

Do not overload list if you can, this is a downfall of disappointment

Leave room below for day notes. These will help you refine your approach and know strengths and weakness. Here add with ++ things to add for the day.

Make separate a list of all that other things not on the list of today. Make this list today. Make to-do dailies the night before…

Admit to self that there will be little interstitial things and distractives, but meditate on minimizing them

Seeming ever to be ready, burst forth into life!

Often there are hidden parts of ourselves that work to keep us small and out of fulfillment. These can be uncovered and worked with by methods inventive or prescribed. Is the dream really you, or is it a fantasy of evasion?

Tend to your four fires. That of coal, your basic level of life and health, that of flame, the enduring things projects passions that make you whole, and those of arc and star… (Evolutionary Witchcraft, chapter on North/Earth/Body/Material/Money)

Among times of Star, between times of Tube… See between pieces where to generate more time..

Lists and lists, my methods use 4 notebooks in a day currently…

Seeing between pieces the tools of opening.. Tools of creation.. Tools of balance.. Tools of true self..

Do not neglect to reduce isolating going forward, or if you have the opposite problem of lots of draining and distractive togetherness & messaging

Know or begin to search for your proper limits of what to take on..

Self, pride, power, sex, passion

Knowledge, law, liberty, love, wisdom… Note the sequences.. (EW, iron, pearl pentacles)

On the morrow one step closer,

On this eve, sleep in peace!

Blessed be.

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Self-Concept Commutative Telegrams x0001 five stars, I think..

Psychic Fugue Studio

Progress Update followed by Sympathy for Loneliness

(Skip intro and ramble if you just want the poem) A cool post from Scriggler (@iScriggle). I had a very strange and interesting and intriguing dream about the I just remembered now, not going to go into it though. A lot of things but it involved their computer systems and meshings or invasions between them and deoxy.org and various governments or some shit. And they say they tweet almost everything posted to their 50,000 followers which netted me about 300 views both times. Haven’t checked in to see if they’re still rising. I send them a tweet asking that my post be promoted just in case it’s missed or passed over. Took them 4 or 5 days to get to it after I posted “As You Disintegrate” which btw at the last minute I decided must go in the current book. And as I think I said, I’m planning to publish to paper when I learn to navigate createspace.com (an Amazon company) (A fairly successful author (although it is far from his primary income) tells me Amazon actually does a pretty good job of promoting createspace and kindle books, and I guess he knows his shit) (I guess that means there are discounts for bookstores or something, cuz if there were only one price you wouldn’t be able to sell so easily above the Amazon price for one. I dunno I guess people (customers) in bookstores wouldn’t know they could get it from createspace? yeah that makes sense). Dude also says a big chunk of his income comes from book design going into createspace and he contracts out to families and stuff and does cons…. Ian McLeod is pretty awesome. I have read two thirds Bilge Pump of a Turgid Mind (poems). It is more challenging and interesting than the commercial poetry book my parents got me for Christmas. I have had to go slower and most of it works with topics that interest me… (The Christmas book is actually pretty good, though, Nick Flynn, My Feelings, significant amount of shit about death in it). And I have read a big chunk of Thirty Minutes More Or Less chapter 14 of Ian’s (wait it has a different name, I dont know if he sent me someone elses book or thats a pseudonym, I think its a pseudonym Joshua Lee Andrew Jones) The Excess Road, and it is, to put it bluntly, awesome! We have had some very fruitful exchanges on marketing and publicity (well not really publicity, I’ll have to send him a link to Publicize Your Book! recommended by Carmichael’s Books for anyone who participates in their consignment program. I read a lot of it before I got desperate and sold it for beer, and it is really good. (Sigh, I am a writer with no books. I sold them all. Well, I have like maybe twenty but half of those are things I can’t sell and have no interest in reading. Hoping paypal to cooper.dozier@gmail.com and monthly recurring donations to patreon.com/lostinmist will start rolling in when the first 70 postcards in my 1000 postcard campaign arrive at their targets tomorrow. May be too optimistic. We’ll see. Perhaps instead of doing Louisville I should be mailing to poets and poetry magazines. But I got the “Unity” card (only drew one this time, I swear) in the Faeries Oracle when I drew a card to see if it would be good to target San Francisco next after Louisville. I suppose I can just mail them to whoever I can find who I feel like in the moment rather than stick to any set plan… but some must go to poetry stuff and some to san Francisco. I sent one to Mayor Fischer, which I believe he will see and dig, but have so far elected not to send one to Obama or our new dickbag governor Bevin. Fly under the radar, I suppose, no? New landing page at psychicfuguestudio.net later tonight (it’s next up unless I meditate first, but in this moment, I am feeling totally ready for web design… a rare feeling unless I’ve been sober a couple weeks, so I guess I’ll hit it) maybe I’ll take out some ads… I believe this is the correct Ian McLeod http://ianmcleod.com/ but he doesn’t appear to advertise his books on his site; how odd!




A playful study on the characteristics and values of loneliness.

If loneliness had a flavor,
it would be like the taste of paper . . .
referring back to the days in grade-school,
when consuming paper
was a more likely occurrence.
Milking from those memories,
the recall of pulpy spit-wads and
the “not-entirely-offensive-yet-savagely-unappealing” flavor –
but lonliness would not carry so much the certain and confident character
of dime-store, college-ruled notebook stock,
lacking that level of definitive identity.
If lonliness had a flavor,
and it tasted like paper,
it would carry the musk and frailty of an old paperback,
yellowed and pungent with the nuance of time and use,
reminiscent of cookie dough, but without the sweet . . .
or anything else really “cookie-ish”
save for the soft top-note,
a bit musty and almost familiar,
nearly comforting at first,
growing more daunting and unfullfilling
in the lengthening of its presence
on the palate.

If lonliness were a guest at your door,
it would be a face familiar . . .
one you had almost forgotten about altogether
and one whom . . .
when upon spying through the peephole,
you would quietly mouth the word “damn”
and wish you could reverse time
for just 5 mere seconds
to resist the cheerful “just a minute!”
you offered at the call of the bell . . .
betraying your option of feigned absence.
And you would exhale long . . .  and slow . . .
and brace yourself before opening the latch . . .
reluctantly welcoming and all-the-while wondering
how long this visit would last . . .
fighting the urge to keep gazing at your watch
forcing the conversation,
wishing you really had something else to do
and wondering what it was you did,
which wrought upon you this karma.

If lonliness had a sound,
it would be voice of a solitary violin,
weeping fervently,
the wanton bow and resin of sorrow
dragging across the threads of unrequieted desire
resonating the throat of sadness,
and echoing the hallowed empty halls
of absence and desolation . . .
still  . .
and low . . .
and constant,
offering no hint of resolve or pause.

But it has no flavor,
no face and no song.

It is in its essence the absence of something,
unnamed, unknown, unseen and unheard,
and still universally understood,
regrettabley mundane,
brazenly eventual,
and effectively uniting us,
to make the rain taste sweeter than spit-wads,
obligations more meaningful and important,
and sad songs somehow lighter.

– See more at: https://scriggler.com/DetailPost/Poetry/438#sthash.zvzn9XCZ.dpuf

Three Poems

Toiling ever in obscurity
Feeling forever lost and done
The weight of failure presses down on the heart
But feeling good in spite of it all
Not to be discouraged is the key
To push on day in day out
Setting goals and taking steps
Progress takes you there three ways
The crows and ravens circled over
Over the drunken poets sleeping form
Burning hot there in the sunlight
Picking at his forgotten lunch
There in time to save his backpack
Waking with a start before thieves came
The threesome took forever o’er it
Adding back what was lost last round
Winnings stacking to their advantage
Leaving much richer than they came
Using magics on the wheels
Confounding every croupier in town
Top 50 Literary Magazines to Submit To

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The elation of the pines was palpable as the wind whistled through their needles
Speaking of the march of ‘progress’ they said “oh, it will never come here. We are a truly wild place”
They congratulated themselves and were happy
But even if the humans stopped outside their borders the global warming was ready to take them down by droughts
No one had ever spoken of global warming in their midst, so they did not know
The pines were elated by the coming of spring, the retreat of ice, when they could shed their blankets of snow and ice and revel in the suns glory
Little did they know the grounding had failed to see his shadow, and they were in for 10 more weeks of cold