Category Archives: Poetry Pantry

O Blathering Daughters


O blathering daughters, please button your lips!
The skulls in the hallway know all of your quips.
They’ve listened in silence for some fifteen years—
Inscrutable beings without any ears!
 
They’ve heard of your skirts made of velvet and bone!
They’ve heard all your whining ’bout living alone!
You can’t smooth your wrinkles, O doddering ones,
So prowl in the pantry for cinnamon buns!
 
Enjoy your sweet repast, the crumbs on your lips,
And watch the ballooning of breasts and of hips!
The skulls in the hallway? Ignore them, my dears!
They’ll listen forever, although they’ve no ears.

 
  
Poem © 2019 by Magical Mystical Teacher

Can Poetry Happen?


Can poetry happen with words such these:
Impossible, pointer, jump, muscle, and please?
 
Or how about glancing and frantic and score?
Will you employ them, or show them the door?
 
And think about darker, hang, balance, and catch—
If you can’t use them, boy, you’ve met your match.
 
Skilled poets will use every word that they’re dealt;
They’re not fragile snowflakes that dog’s breath will melt.

 
  
Poem © 2019 by Magical Mystical Teacher

They Gave Me Words to Work With


They gave me words to work with,
I knew not what to do.
The words were fried and swirling,
Lips, chicken, certain, stew.
 
I looked at my reflection,
While writing couplets down;
I looked not like a poet,
But like some silly clown.
 
The more I wrote, I hungered
To write some lasting stuff;
Then I threw my pen away
And shouted, “That’s enough!”
 
This lull in fevered writing
Will give me time to think
Of how to spread my table—
Forget the pen and ink!
 
I’m grateful that my table
Holds something that tastes sweet,
For writing leaves me famished,
And now it’s time to eat!

 
  
Poem © 2019 by Magical Mystical Teacher

Blue Monday: Hammer

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A worker wields a hammer in this detail from a mural, Prescott Public Library, Prescott, Arizona.
 


The hammer comes down with a crash!
Watch out, worker, and do not smash
Your fingers or toes,
For everyone knows
You can’t buy replacements with cash.
 
Photo and limerick © by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More Poetry Pantry #482 at Poets United

 
BLUE MONDAY BADGE

 
 
To share your Blue Monday shot, click on the Mister Linky icon below:
 
 

The Darksome Poet


What rhymes with blue erasers? Nothing that I know.
Ask the thirty thirsty pencils that live down below.
 
Perhaps the smallest pencil is longer than you think,
And knows the word you’re looking for, written in red ink.
 
I believe that snips and scraps, at least not more than three,
Can be used to slit your throat, or make poetry.
 
I know my tale has ended in a dark and somber way,
But I am a darksome poet, so what more can I say?

 
  
Poem © 2019 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More Sunday’s Whirligig #215
 
More Poetry Pantry #481 at Poets United

A Pilgrim’s Consolation


Warfare, pilgrim, is good reason to betake yourself from here.
Seek the roads that no one else takes; from the crowd now disappear.
 
Do not disdain the pebble that now lodges in your shoe.
Hail those you meet along the way; give praise where praise is due.
 
Shield yourself from falsehood by recalling holy tales;
Strengthen soul and body as you drink the sacred ales.
 
At the crest of yonder mountain, where clouds obscure the view,
Fear not, O weary pilgrim: Someone watches over you.

 
  
Poem © 2019 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More Sunday’s Whirligig #214
 
More Poetry Pantry #480 at Poets United

Three Utterly Weird Poems


I.
Before the mountains were born,
Or there were stains in the sea,
God put his mouth to a horn
And blasted out notes with glee!
 
II.
I’m tired of drinking coffee, tired of drinking tea;
Give me chicken breasts and thighs for eternity!
 
III.
I heard three tigers breathing, I thought my time had come,
But then the fiercest tiger was turned into a plum
By the surging murmur of a wizened wizard’s breath,
And now I can’t help singing how I escaped from death!

 
  
Poems © 2019 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More Sunday’s Whirligig #213
 
More Poetry Pantry #479 at Poets United

Three Aphorisms


I.
Watch the dog leaping and learn from the monk;
Not all meditation needs to be junk.
 
II.
Cowardice protects you when the tigers come:
Jump the paddock wall, my friend, and run like hell, just run!
 
III.
Those who sit together and those who sit apart,
Know that sitting shiva is a quiet art.

 
  
Poems © by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More Sunday’s Whirligig #211
 
More Poetry Pantry #478 at Poets United

Three Couplets


I.
Daylight, and the drunk man falls forward on his face;
He lacks a map to guide him to a better place.
 
II.
Sometimes a hearth that’s spacious holds only hints of fire—
Little coals that soon grow cold like everyone’s desire.
 
III.
Anywhere is nowhere when money creeps inside;
Beware when words become a place for your lies to hide.

 
  
Poems © by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More Sunday’s Whirligig #210
 
More Poetry Pantry #448 at Poets United

Cloudless

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A clear blue sky and some gnarled branches welcome visitors to the Sonoran Desert, Southern Arizona.
 


Cloudless April day—
I walk in desolation,
consoled by birdsong.

 
Haiku and photo © by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
More SkyWatch Friday
 
More Haiku My Heart at Recuerda Mi Corazon