Poetic License Horoscope for February 18-24
Aquarius (Jan. 21-Feb. 19): Write About Love (Belle and Sebastian): Whatever cubicle nightmare is glitter-hazing your head, your heart needs some fresh air. Go outside and get sunbeams on your face. Map the snowmelt rivers, or better yet, follow them.
Pisces (Feb. 20-March 20): (Portland, Oregon) You’re My Home (Carrie Brownstein and Fred Armisen): “We’re so thankful for everything we’ve got, and we’re so sorry for everything we’re not.” Except that you never have to apologize. Your heart is as bountiful as a Portland food truck. You are the opposite of an ironic mustache. Like the Rose City, your aim is true.
Aries (March 21-April 18): The Cave (Mumford and Sons): “The sun, it rises slowly as you walk/ Away from all the fears/ And all the faults you've left behind.” You are now leaving Plato’s cave. Things aren’t shadows anymore, they’re three-dimensional.
Taurus (April 19-May 18): Firework (Glee Cast Version): Everyone has come to the field and spread out their blankets as the blue fades from the sky and the stars appear. They’re waiting for you with a soundtrack of sighs. You are only for special occasions, only for glimmering across their upturned faces.
Gemini (May 19-June 21): The Suburbs (Arcade Fire): Things may seem end-of-the-worldy, but a lot of it plans to stick around, I promise. Ride bikes around like little kids. Take out your camera and record every angle of your living sight. Have faith in the horizon, and even in the cul-de-sac.
Cancer (June 22-July 23): Animal (Miike Snow): You shapeshifter, mixing your signals, fading in and out like a pulse. You can decide what you are on any highway. “Now you’re pulling your disguise up. Are you free or are you tied up?”
Leo (July 24-Aug. 23): Home (LCD Soundsystem) and Home (The Magnetic Zeroes): Get there and stay there, or carry it with you. Everything you hope for is stacked up around your ears. Remember your best friend is your breath, and most importantly: come back, come back, come back.
Virgo (Aug. 24-Sept. 23): El Scorcho (Weezer): Somebody is always reading your diary, decoding the heart-doodles in the margins. Follow love with or without mistranslation, whether or not you are even legible. Send out sparks like homing beacons, it’s okay for now, the waiting.
Libra (Sept. 24-Oct. 21): You Can Do It (Ice Cube): You are my very own living room dance party, and this is encouragement you can trust. “Don’t stop, git it git it.” You will.
Scorpio (Oct. 22-Nov. 22): Touch the Sky (Kanye West): “Any pessimists I ain't talked to them,/Plus, I ain't have no phone in my apartment.” Feel free to be oblivious to anything that might hold you back. Pull out all of your household wires if necessary.
Capricorn (Dec. 23-Jan. 20): Awake my Soul (Mumford and Sons) “How fickle my heart and how woozy my eyes/ I struggle to find any truth in your lies/ And now my heart stumbles on things I don't know/ This weakness I feel I must finally show/ Lend me your hand and we'll conquer them all/ But lend me your heart and I'll just let you fall/ Lend me your eyes I can change what you see/ But your soul you must keep, totally free”
Poetic License Horoscopes is a free syndicated series which appears weekly on such lit blogs as The Serotonin Factory, Critical Mass and The Legendary If you are interested in adding Poetic License Horoscopes to your lit journal / lit blog, please email me at serotoninfactory@gmail.com.
Poetic License Horoscopes is a free syndicated series which appears weekly on such lit blogs as The Serotonin Factory, Critical Mass and The Legendary If you are interested in adding Poetic License Horoscopes to your lit journal / lit blog, please email me at serotoninfactory@gmail.com.
