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Roo Bernascone♿🌈 @roo_b_arts
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Okay friends today is #tarot day!

I havent had any booking as of yet so feel free to dm

Will be going from 9pm till at least 3am GMT so I can maybe help a few friends across the Atlantic tonight who feel they need the cards guidance.

Today nov 7 9pm-3am GMT

#tarotreading Price list with a slightly altered William Morris pattern as the background  very antique older florals on black.<br />
<br />
Lighter rectangles with the title Readings by Roo<br />
<br />
Main body reads<br />
<br />
1 card = £10  <br />
20-30mins<br />
<br />
3 = £20<br />
45m- 1hr<br />
<br />
5= £30<br />
1hr30-1hr45<br />
<br />
7= £ 50<br />
2hrs-2hr15<br />
<br />
9= £ 60<br />
2hr45-3hrs<br />
<br />
<br />
10= £65<br />
3hr30-3hr45<br />
<br />
Wednesdays and Saturdays 9pm-3am GMT<br />
All times and days are approximate custom layouts upon request
As always I'll be doing a thread while I wait for customers and folks if you like #poetry (Pssst @showupforthis thought of you immediately)

Then you'll enjoy tonights thread.

9pm-3am ish GMT

Right here join me if you like!
So good evening folks!

It's 9pm GMT #readingsbyroo is now open for #tarotreading till 3am ish GMT

While im waiting for customers I'm doing a thread here about poetry

Please enjoy Price list with a slightly altered William Morris pattern as the background  very antique older florals on black.<br />
<br />
Lighter rectangles with the title Readings by Roo<br />
<br />
Main body reads<br />
<br />
1 card = £10  <br />
20-30mins<br />
<br />
3 = £20<br />
45m- 1hr<br />
<br />
5= £30<br />
1hr30-1hr45<br />
<br />
7= £ 50<br />
2hrs-2hr15<br />
<br />
9= £ 60<br />
2hr45-3hrs<br />
<br />
<br />
10= £65<br />
3hr30-3hr45<br />
<br />
Wednesdays and Saturdays <br />
All times and days are approximate, first come first served, custom layout up request
This evening is going to be about poetry that I personally love for a variety of reasons but I hope that there’ll be something here for every kind of poetry lover.
Quick explanation whenever I use / in the middle of quoting poetry it means it's the start of a fresh line of the poem because poetry can get very free form with it's sentence structure, punctuation and layout.
There is one poet that I have a deep abiding love for whose I've come to meet multiple times throughout my life in different ways and everytime she inspires me.
Maya Angelou, everyone rightfully when talking about her work talk about poems like still I rise
(you may write my down in history/with your bitter, twisted lies/you may trod me in the very dirt/but still, like dust, I'll rise.)
People may mention phenomenal woman for it's wonderful beat  the confidence and surety of it's proclamations (it's in the reach of my arms,/the span of my hips,/the stride of my step,/the curl of my lips./I'm a woman/ phenomenally./ phenomenal woman,/ that's me.)
Or of course the mournful classic caged bird ( the cage bird sings/ with a fearful trill/ of things unknown/ but longed for still/ and his tune is heard/on the distant hill/for the cage bird/ sings of freedom.)
But I've not heard many folk talk about one of my favourite poems of hers which is a short and simple thing 6 lines in total  that honestly I can't explain why I love it properly I just do.
It's called country lover (funky blues/ keen toed shoes/ high water pants/ saddy night dance/ red soda water/ and anybody's daughter.)
Our next poet is someone who's work touched me at a time in my life when I needed it.

And as it's #NativeAmericanHeritageMonth I thought I'd share some with you all
it's by Crisosto Apache, He is Mescalero Apache, Chiricahua Apache, and Diné (Navajo) of the 'Áshįįhí (Salt Clan) born for the Kinyaa'áanii (Towering House Clan) and he is an advocate for native LGBT+/two spirit issues. #NativeAmericanHeritageMonth
It's that time of the evening folks where I shamelessly plug the fact I'm doing tarot right now!

Check link for details

9pm- 3am ish GMT

And I'm back again with poet Crisosto Apache.

It's another really short powm just 3 lines in total called death

the only word I could use to describe it, is ironically given its subject matter, haunting. ( it is prohibited to whisper the names of the dead,/ as it encourages them to linger at the doorstep,/ and she has already lingered, far too long )

Sticking with native poets this next poem is by Kimberly Blaeser from  White Earth Reservation in Minnesota and she has an extensive collection of work everything from essays to fiction even becoming poet laureate for the state of Wisconsin in 2017. #NativeAmericanHeritageMonth
The poem that I'm gonna talk about is called Haiku journey, it makes me very happy because of how it's built. It's a journey through a year told in haiku's, 17 in total and I'd like to share my favourite from each season

spring (the tips of each pine/ the spikes of telephone poles/ hold gathering crows)

summer (banded headed bird/ this ballerina killdeer/ dance on point my heart)

Fall ( sky black with migration/ flocks settle on barren trees/ leaf birds, travel songs)

Winter (Northern follows jig/ body flashes with strike, dive:/ broken line floats up.)

This next poem is by Qwo-li Driskill and uses a thing I love from poets who are multilingual.

Qwo-li's poetry often deals with themes of inheritance and healing from a queer, two spirit, mixed race perspective. #NativeAmericanHeritageMonth
this one specially talks about reclaimation of language and culture it's called  Tal’-s-go Gal’-quo-gi Di-del’-qua-s-do-di Tsa-la-gi Di-go-whe-li/ Beginning Cherokee

It's a difficult to explain poem but I highly recommend reading it.

The next poem I want to tell you lovely folks about is by Deborah a. Mirdanda who is also native, Ohlone-Costanoan Esselen Nation of California she has an extensive and very interesting body of work. #NativeAmericanHeritageMonth
It's called Love Poem to a Butch Woman and theres a bit I love as a trans man who was once a butch woman that had a lover said this to me I would be dead from romantic overload.

(I want to re-fashion/ the matrix of creation, make a human being/ from the human love that passes between
our bodies. Sweetheart, this is how it is:/)......cont
Cont......(/when you emerge from the bedroom
in a clean cotton shirt, sleeves pushed back/ over forearms, scented with cologne/ from an amber bottle)

Okay lovelies going to go on a quick break but will be back 💜

Hope your enjoying tonights thread.
Okay and I'm back!

It's that time of the evening to remind you I'm offering #tarotreading right now

See link for details

The next poem is called [Didn’t Sappho say her guts clutched up like this?] And honestly it's title is what first drew me in I love it so much.
It's by Marilyn hacker who has a award winning career spanning over 40 years known for blending high culture with colloquialisms.

(Although I’d cream my jeans touching your breast,/ sweetheart, it isn’t lust; it’s all the rest/ of what I want with you that scares me shitless)
Another queer poem this time by Timothy liu a Chinese American poet from California his work offensive deals with identity, violence, sexuality, and the power of witness.
Twitter has decided I can't copy and paste my work and I'm so fucking confused. Sorry about the technical glitches folks. Thread will resume soon
(blood drops/ stippling the water pink as I kiss/ the back of your neck, our faces framed inside/a medicine cabinet mirror. The blade/ of your hand carves a portal out of steam,/ the two of us like boys behind frosted glass/ who wave goodbye while a car shoves off into winter)
Okay that was bizzare anyway that last tweet was from Timothy liu's winter
It's that time of the evening again lovelies where I remind you that in offering #tarotreading right now till about 3ish GMT although I may be extending those hours depending on energy levels

Check link for details

This poem comes from a book I own personally that I saved from a college closing down sale the book is called selected poems from Thom Gunn and Ted Hughes. It's by the latter, a former poet laureate of the UK 1984-1998  and is called witches. a pale duck egg blue thin book<br />
<br />
<br />
the title going up along the front near the spine and across the top reads selected poems in red font. Underneath the names of the poets Thom Gunn & Ted Hughes in black font along the outer edge is a black band in which white writing read Faber paper covered editionsInside book cover image<br />
<br />
Text reads Kirby college of further education in ink stamp over the title selected poems
Ted Hughes

(Bitches still sulk,rosebuds blow,/ and we are devilled. And though these weep/ over our harms, who's to know/ where their feet dance while their heads sleep)
Sticking with the same book and poet for this next one it makes me feel so cosy and warm I want to put on some jazz slip into some blankets and watch nigella Lawson cookery shows
It's called October dawn and its opening lines are just so evocative.(October is marigold, and yet/ A glass half full of wine left out)
Dipping out of the book for but sticking with one of the authors Thom Gunn is an excellent poet but my favourite isn't in that book  I unfortunately don't own it yet but it's about a queer long distance relationship it's called in trust
(You go from me/  In June for months on end/ To study equanimity/ Among high trees alone;/ I go out with a new boyfriend/ And stay all summer in the city where/ Home mostly on my own/ I watch the sunflowers flare.)
The next few poems tangentially come from a book where Ted Hughes wrote the foreword and was rescued from a charity shop bin by my friend it was originally printed in 1963 and this print of it was 1967/8 a small pink abstract patterned hardcover book and in white text the title reads here today subtitle is modern poems introduced by Ted Hughes
This first one reminds me of Sunday lunches around my grandmother's house it reminds me of everything she wanted it to be and she remembers it this way but it certainly wasn't. It's called Sunday morning in the north by Michell raper
(Because of the sunlight the young girls collect/ where two rows of dull houses intersect,/ to sum up boys, and laugh, and understand./old men sit long and dream of plots of land.)

Sunday morning in the north - Michell Raper
It's that time of the evening again folks where I remind you that right now I'm offering #tarotreading and will be going for at least another hour or so.

Check link for details

Same book again This one is a fun little poem by rex Taylor about a poster, that's about something fairly mundane, an advertisement to be precise.

(Why do they pose/(this man and girl)/ oblivious/ to the traffic's whirl/at the street corner)
This one is kind of dark from the same book and really I can't put my finger on why i like it so much I think it's the rhyming scheme or cadence*shrugs*
It's called social study by michael Baldwin

(While my mother are her heart out/ and my father chewed the chairs/my sister worked in a factory/calmly degutting pears:)
This next book of mine is called sonnets and other poetry by William Shakespeare.

It's a hardback collection of the bards poetry works pilfered yet again from a charity shop bin Peach hardback book with black spine in gold foil font the title sonnets and other poetry underneath that the name William Shakespeare in the middle of the cover is an image of a couple in an embrace the image is in an impressionistic romantic style.
One of my favourite sonnets is 26 and tbh it's pretty freaking gay.

( Lord of my love, to whom in vassalage/ thy merit hath my duty strongly knit,/ to thee I send the written ambassage,/ to witness duty, not to show my wit )
Also this gem sonnet 62 which I totally read as a millennial self care anthem but I know that's not what it is.
fuck it interpretation is half the point
(Sin of self-love possesseth all mine eye,/ and all my soul, and all my every part;/ and for this sin there is no remedy,/ it is so grounded inward in my heart.)
And this last sonnet I like just for way it sounds when reading it aloud number 119

(What potions have I drunk of sirens tears,/ distilled of limbecks foul as hell within,/ applying fears to hopes and hopes to fears,/ still losing when I saw myself to win!)
Hey folks it's the last hour of #tarotreading for tonight so room for one or two small readings before I log off

See link for details

This is a beautiful little collection by @MazHedgehog that has become an obsession called floriology and this is from the poem Seasons

(Her hair is a meadow of/ wildflowers/ tangled in grass:/ Plastic imitations in a chemical lie.) A small paperback booklet pink cover with pastel pink green and white illustrated flowers in pink font is the title Floriology underneath is the name Maz hedgehog
For me this next poem is my favourite by Maz for so many reasons but this bit specifically reminds me of my Spoonie friends, its called roses
(When we would dance until/ splintered hip-bones/ and cracked heart-bones/ forces us to stop/ a moment/ (we never were much good at riding/ mortal bodies).)

Support Maz’s work at
This next book is another oldish book I own because I can't see a book thrown away so I collect the waifs and strays.

Printed in 1968 and once belonged to someone called Judith turner in yr 2 a little hard back book with its dust jacket intact blue background with a black floral border the title in white reads a book of narrative verse underneath that a floral image and further down in black text compiled by v.h. Colin's with remarks about narrative poetry by Edmund blundeninscription reads Judith turner yr 2.
This ballad called jock o’ the side was given no origin in the book but upon research I found it to be a traditional Scottish border folk ballad thought to be about a gentleman called jock Armstrong who was wanted by the English for ....
constantly harrasing and raiding the northern estates if England like Carlisle and Northumbria (good on him)
It would be sang by traveling minstrels along the Scottish side of the border

(To sybill o’ the side the tidings came;/ by waterside there as she ran/ she took her kirtle by the hem/ and fast to mangerton she's gane.)
And here's a verse actually about jock himself because this thing is so long

(Then out and spak the gude laird's jock,/ ‘ now fear ye na my billie,’ quo’ he;/ ‘ for here are the laird's Jock, the laird's Wat,/ and Hobbie Noble to set thee free.’)

I love jock so fucking cool
This next one is By Thomas Parnell and is called the hermit.

I wish I could do this irl

( Far in a wild, Unknown to public view,/ from youth to age a reverend hermit grew;/ the moss his bed, the cave his humble cell,/ his food the fruits, his drink the crystal well:)
This next book is beautiful, usually I put image descriptions in all my images for folks who need them but forgive me friends I need to gush so will describe in depth right here in the thread
this book is bound in what I believe is lambskin its work of a Persian poet Omar Kháyyám it's another charity shop stray of my collection one of my favourites this little unassuming brown thing(at brief glance) is filled with treasures only hinted at by its colour & small size
an embossed floral wreath surround the text that looks too expensive to be anything other than gold pressed if my guess is correct given its age and overall quality

The text reads Omar Kháyyám.
At either bookend there are illustrations in a Germanic fairybook scene of two white Shepard's watching their flock of sheep(part of the reason besides the texture that I believe the binding to be lambskin.)
The treasure continues Further inside with an inscription that reads

"To a thoughtful little girl.

With many kind wishes


F???? Easton

Xmas 1914"

Holy crap over a hundred years of history in my hands I fucking just holy shit! How fucking cool
Continuing further in still is more beauty with 2 illustrations in an almost art Nouveau style one of a sultan by Charles Robinson and an illustration of a woman writing on the opposite page that was drawn in 1912 for the London & Glasgow Collins clear-type press
to the main Text and you see that every single page is set out with a gorgeous grapevine border in green ink at the bottom of each bit of text is a small symbol that changes every single time mostly it's flowers or plants one or two small bees
An excerpt from opening page

(Awake! For morning in the bowl of night/ has flung the that puts the stars to flight:/ and lo! The hunter of the east has caught/ the Sultan's turret in a noose of light.)

The sultan mentioned is the subject of that image by Charles robinson
And with that book porn over folks that my calling it a night.

Thank you all for joining me I hope you've had a great time I've been roo and you've been awesome
If you enjoyed this thread and learned anything consider paying me or RTing my links.

Side note so this may be tmi but I just started my period and am currently crying over the fact that I own such a beautiful book
It feels like a symbol of hope for me right now in the face of huge dysphoria it's like if that tiny delicate fragile gift of love survive for over a hundred years to reach me when I need it then I hold on too.
*then I can hold on too.

Damn tears
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