Whirling with Marge

 photo 896e57f3-ec65-4650-a1cd-d55c757eb045_zpstypcduqs.jpg
 
 
Each breath-of-a-poem begins with a phrase taken from “Maggid” by Marge Piercy.


 
~~ 1 ~~
 
Born of wanderers
following cracks in the earth—
this is her story.
 
~~ 2 ~~
 
under loads of straw
so heavy that they must crawl—
three peasant women
 
~~ 3 ~~
 
Who chose the desert
over fields of ripened grain?
What were they thinking?
 
~~ 4 ~~
 
wanderers with shoes
escaping Egypt by night
with untied laces
 
~~ 5 ~~
 
a child’s naughtiness—
the mother’s heart collapses
like an umbrella
 
~~ 6 ~~
 
bodies by the way
crows picking at putrid flesh—
immigrant children
 
~~ 7 ~~
 
small bones of children
wrapped in tattered white quilts
from the old country
 
~~ 8 ~~
 
abandoned treasures—
among them an old clay pot
filled with untold tales
 
~~ 9 ~~
 
Where their empty pots
are suddenly filled with bones—
tell me that story.
 
~~ 10 ~~
 
In the stinking hold
of a ship with splintered deck
they make for safety.
 
~~ 11 ~~
 
Under our pillows
a thousand new dreams open
as flowers in spring.

 
© 2015 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More The Sunday Whirl, Wordle 206

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Posted on July 5, 2015, in 5-7-5, The Sunday Whirl and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 14 Comments.

  1. So many contrasts is adeptly conveyed in this piece – the last verse makes me think all of us are treasures..equally worthy and worthwhile…

  2. Oh, number 9! I want that story, too. I’ve missed whirling MMT, and you are reminding me why that is so. Thank you.

  3. Excellent sequence of small poems!

  4. The fourth one caught my imagination. Nice.

  5. These are so beautiful, they make me want to hear a much longer story about each one. That is good writing!

  6. Such beautiful and poignant haiku you lay out for us.

  7. I think of the rugged life of a refugee facing so many challenges in the journey of just staying alive. A powerful series of images.

  8. veronicabalfourpaul

    Each one is a story. The mother’s heart collapsing like an umbrella is brilliant. I admire your economy of words, well chosen and visceral.

  9. Eleven is my favourite. Dreams as flowers under our pillows. Lovely !

  10. These reminded me of the dust bowl in the 1930’s–I especially liked the imagery in #5.

  11. wow, that’s a lot of mileage out of a few words! I admire your ability to craft several ‘breath-of-poems’ using multiple sources for inspiration.

  12. Your words still burgeon with imagery, beautiful and harsh. One minute lapping into love another filling us with laughter. I am so glad to find you still writing. My favorite-

    Who chose the desert
    over fields of ripened grain?
    What were they thinking?

    It reminds me of myself. xo Teri

  13. Who chose the desert: That one could have read “who made the desert” – I’m thinking of the dust-bowl which afflicts central USA, and is gaining ground in Europe

    As usual your senryu give us some beautiful themes.

  14. Having just recently moved into a new place, I can identify with many of the feelings expressed in your weaving of these words.

    Elizabeth
    http://soulsmusic.wordpress.com/

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