Category Archives: Sunday’s Whirligig

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 Weird Songs


I.
I will sing and laugh at table,
Tell my brother that I’m able
To eat pancakes every day—
Not with centipedes, no way!
 
II.
In the kitchen darker stories
Bloom like fatal morning glories;
Beautiful they are, but cruel,
Deadlier than day-old gruel.
 
III.
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

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

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

Let Us Decorate in Silence


Let us decorate in silence
While the wind chimes ring with glee;
Let us warm ourselves with whisky
Splashed in steaming cups of tea.
 
It is plain our house needs something
To revive its heart and soul;
Let us lift a glass in hope, dear,
Nibbling cake and jelly roll.
 
Far too long we’ve had too little
And our home has had no heat;
Let us eat some peanut brittle,
Then our joy will be complete.

 
Poem © 2019 by Magical Mystical Teacher

The Parting


“I know that I will miss you,” he said with a slight shrug.
“But the cat has lost its tail, there’s darkness on the rug,
And cruelty is sport for fools, of which I am one;
Better we should part this day, and let the deed be done.”
 
“I will not discourage you,” she said without a sigh.
“You’ve been just short of horrible in all the years gone by.
You thought that I was fragile, you thought I was a toad,
But I withstood your onslaughts—now go, and hit the road!”

 
Poem © 2018 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More Sunday’s Whirligig #194

It’s Winter, My Love

IMG_5456
A desert family enjoys the cool December weather in this mosaic on a wall in Ajo, Arizona.
 


It’s winter, my love, keep playing the bones!
Stars o’er the valley are singing to stones.
Keep yourself limber, and shrug off the cold.
Summon your courage, and learn to be bold—
Bold in the barnyard, and bold in the dome,
Bold when you’re far, far away from your home.
I’ll end my song here, and hope that you find
That most folks are true, and loving, and kind.


 
Poem © 2018 by Magical Mystical Teacher

Kiss the Acrobat


Kiss the acrobat goodbye,
Do not be afraid to fly.
 
Play the right chord, not the wrong;
I will listen to your song
 
And admire your awesome skill—
Aim for dulcet notes, not shrill!
 
Test your apron, tie it tight—
Hope your cookies turn out right!
 
I’ve been missing you a bunch—
Let’s have cookies for our lunch!

 
Poem © 2018 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More Sunday’s Whirligig #190
 
More Poetry Pantry #431 at Poets United

Famine or Feast?


In a little storybook that I read both day and night,
A man heaps feast-food on some plates, but keeps them out of sight.
 
His wrinkled visage dares to me reach for juice or wine,
But when I do, he slaps me with twisted fishing line.
 
My luck is next to nothing, I’m down and out, you see;
The table spread before me was never meant for me.
 
If you have hair, it’s easy to charm the serving-man
Who keeps the sideboard groaning with cake and wine and flan.
 
But if your hair is thinning and showing roots of grey,
The keeper of the sideboard will swat your hands away.
 
The moral of my story, if moral there may be:
There’s nothing wrong with hair dye, or using flattery!

 
Poem © 2018 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More Sunday’s Whirligig #189
 
More Poetry Pantry #430 at Poets United