Category Archives: Poetry Pantry

Maya Used to Be So Small

(A silly poem for a silly kid I know.)

Maya used to be so small.
Now she’s over six feet tall!
Wait! That simply can’t be true!
Maya’s only one-foot-two!
I messed up, I must confess:
My math skills are such a mess.
Here’s the way we will make sure
Maya’s legend will endure:
Measure Maya with a tape,
Fit her with a hero’s cape,
Not too short and not too tall.
Maya will defend us all,
Keep us safe both night and day.
Thank you, Maya—and hurray!

Poem © 2019 by Magical Mystical Teacher

Mother Left Six Weeks Ago

NOTE: This poem is NOT autobiographical. It is strictly a work of FICTION.

Mother left six weeks ago, said nothing, no goodbyes.
Wearily she climbed in bed, and then she closed her eyes.
Next morning when we found her in the light of day,
Like a stream in summer’s drought, she had passed away.
Now it’s time to sort her trash, sort her treasures too—
When your mother leaves this life, that’s what you must do.
By the attic window purses lined up in a row,
Bags of shoes, and dusty dresses—everything must go.
Pass me mother’s rosary, and some tissues too.
Say a little prayer for me; I’ll say one for you.

Poem © 2019 by Magical Mystical Teacher

London Bridge

If you can wait for dolphins, you can surely wait for me.
See these embers on my curtains? They will burn, most certainly.
London Bridge is falling down
So let’s go to Chinatown

Wedge yourself a little deeper with elation in the seat;
Benedictions line the courtroom for the ones without deceit.
London Bridge is breaking up
Bitter coffee in your cup

Something horrid shines at twilight in the oak tree in the yard.
Nightfall comes—look, there’s the shining! O this creature’s eyes are hard!
London Bridge is passing by
Even ravens start to cry

There’s nothing like the fury of an ancient prophecy
To make your spirit soar on high, then plummet to the sea.
London Bridge has flown away
Come again another day


Poem © 2019 by Magical Mystical Teacher

Three Limericks

A padlock’s a strong little thing,
But good for protecting your bling.
One click and it’s set
As tight as a net,
So no one can get anything!
If you lose your comb in the street,
Expect the coiffed people you meet
To stare at your pate
And then start to prate
About your mussed hair, not your feet!
A dragonfly dressed all in blue
May not look alarming to you,
But bees and gnats flee
Whenever they see
Blue dragonflies zooming—it’s true!

Limericks © by Magical Mystical Teacher

Three Weird Songs

I will sing and laugh at table,
Tell my brother that I’m able
To eat pancakes every day—
Not with centipedes, no way!
In the kitchen darker stories
Bloom like fatal morning glories;
Beautiful they are, but cruel,
Deadlier than day-old gruel.
From a deep, enchanted well
Draw some water, say a spell
That will change (I know not how)
Donald Trump into a cow.

Poem © 2019 by Magical Mystical Teacher

Nada, Nothing, Zero, Naught

Xenophobic man, begone!
Racist, do not linger on!
Usurer, give back the cash
Purloined from the poor man’s stash!
Lying? Stealing? Not OK!
Pussy grabbing? Oh, no way!
How much should we tolerate
Of your spewing lies and hate?
Nada, nothing, zero, naught!
May your reign end, may you rot!

Poem © 2019 by Magical Mystical Teacher
More Midweek Motif at Poets United: “Zero Tolerance”

Quickly the Night Comes

Quickly the night comes, sending out stars;
Children stuff lightning bugs into jars.
The bat chasing bugs will stop for a rest
After it catches the last pesky pest.
Ripples of darkness spread over the pond—
Shadows envelop each leafy palm frond.
Invisible creatures run to and fro—
We’d see them if they were running in snow.
Quietly, dear, let me sing you a song;
Moths near the streetlight won’t be there long.
The night is far gone, but not my love, dear—
Here at the frog pond I think that is clear.
In daylight or darkness, winter or spring,
I’ll sing by the pond, dear, to you I will sing.

Poem © 2019 by Magical Mystical Teacher

The Filling

Underneath a palace table hungry dogs eat husks and wings;
Even twilight does not daunt them when the regal peacock sings
Songs of anger, songs of yearning, songs of drawing forth a knife—
Runic songs that bid the Presence come as fire to be our wife.
See, she vanquishes injustice! See, she turns things upside down!
Then the fiery Presence fills us, and at last we wear her crown!

Poem © 2019 by Magical Mystical Teacher

Text Me a Message

Text me a message before I am gone,
Before waving shadows cover my lawn.
Candles and peaches, not rats in a bowl—
Text me of these things to cheer up my soul.
Don’t text about fences shredded by fate,
Just stick to the truth, let’s have a clean slate.
The truth being this, and always will be:
I’m made for you, dear, and you’re made for me.

Poem © 2019 by Magical Mystical Teacher

It’s Easy to Be Pious

It’s easy to be pious when hunger’s kept at bay;
The oily man adores you, although he’ll never say
Just why the drunken driver is waving from the bus,
Or why he wears upon his head a shoebox filled with pus.
O life is complicated, and that you can’t deny;
We all survive by exiting—so now, my friends, goodbye!

Poem © 2019 by Magical Mystical Teacher