Category Archives: Sunday’s Whirligig

Bleak Is the Stable


Bleak is the stable and frosty the hay;
The old shepherd’s moaning, “Please go away!
Give me some quiet, for that would be bliss;
Messes annoy me—just look at all this!
Some other farmhand should milk the brown cow,
While I feed the lambs, the calves, and the sow.
Yes, I know my part, I know it right well:
Work is my worship, despite the rank smell.”

 
  

Poem © 2019 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More Sunday’s Whirligig #244
 
More Pantry of Poetry and Prose #8 at Poets United

 

Wine into Water


Water heals her wound
the evidence comes
as a scar blossoms in her flesh
like smoke rising
from burning leaves
it has been a long struggle
sometimes she dreams
of lying in her casket
when this nightmare is over
but for now her thoughts are clearing
maybe Jesus is turning her wine
into water

 
  

Poem © 2019 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More Sunday’s Whirligig #243
 
More Pantry of Poetry and Prose #7 at Poets United

 

Great Is the Grief of the Grapes


How can the grapes endure such grief?
What forgotten strength contained within
their skins must they summon,
now that the pickers have come with shears
to fill their empty baskets?
They must be aching,
knowing they’ll be tossed in the press
that will crush every drop of life from them.
There’s nothing subtle about destruction.
It doesn’t steal over you
like the fleeting shadow of a wren at twilight,
but lands like a stone on a toe.
Great is the grief of the grapes!

 
  

Poem © 2019 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More Sunday’s Whirligig #241
 
More Pantry of Poetry and Prose #5 at Poets United

 

Vases Made of Mud


Vases made of mud must pass
Quickly through the looking-glass;
They are bouncing with the strain.
The white pitcher groans again
In a rhythm dark and deep
Of a work that will not keep
Till your dallying is done.
See, bright smears of morning sun
Lie heavy on the table!
Sing of them, if you’re able,
Though your tongue may clang like brass—
Do not let this moment pass!

 
  
Poem © 2019 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More Sunday’s Whirligig #240
 
More Pantry of Poetry and Prose #4 at Poets United
 

Haibun: Grief Work


My grief over my father’s death has become my life’s work. Some days I drink from a bitter cup. Other days I choose to spread my bread with honey. And sometimes I lay myself down on the anvil of sorrows and let the hammer fall, shaping me as it will. Sheer stubbornness drives me to try to understand why a tear leans into the wind, hoping to dry itself; or why the dead enter our world saying nothing, giving neither comfort nor counsel, but simply watching and waiting. So far, I have failed in my quest, but I will not quit. Stubbornness, remember?

Walking through the woods
on an autumn afternoon—
this is song enough.

 
  

Haibun © 2019 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More Sunday’s Whirligig #239
 
More Pantry of Poetry and Prose #3 at Poets United

Haibun: Wisdom Is Waiting


I am following a path that leads, they say, to Willow Woman, who stands in solitude. How will I find her? Stooped and ungainly? Or singing songs that she learned from her ancestors? Songs of leaf and twig. Songs of root and branch. Songs of drought and disease. In the absence of answers to my questions, I keep moving, as I have done year after year. My one desire—I have no other—is to see Willow Woman at last, for in her, wisdom is waiting.

Autumn afternoon—
in my neighbor’s tiny yard
one red rose still blooms.

 
  

Haibun © 2019 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More Sunday’s Whirligig #238
 
More Pantry of Poetry and Prose #2 at Poets United

Release the Horses


Release the horses into the deep,
Water the foxes until they sleep.
 
Necks of the foxes? Smell them with fear!
Horses’ hooves pounding? Get out of here!
 
Things that you’ve owned? Not destined to stay!
Things that you cherish? Fading away!
 
Sending this quickly, only one time—
May you find truth somewhere in this rhyme.

 
  
Poem © 2019 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More Sunday’s Whirligig #237
 
More Poetry Pantry #498 at Poets United
 

A Bit of Sunday Morning Nonsense


Minus your face, dear, you bring me to tears.
A spot of confetti seems to last years.
The grit in the ashes soon turns to brass;
Shelves in my memory shatter like glass.
Come here, my darling, and bring me more wine;
Bear with my foolishness, make my face shine!

 
  
Poem © 2019 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More Sunday’s Whirligig #236
 
More Poetry Pantry #497 at Poets United
 

Do Not Menace Me


Do not menace me with rope, swaying from a tree,
Even though the hangman winks, while phantoms laugh with glee.
Cheer me as I’m sleeping, darling, underneath the sod;
Hear me through the casket’s keyhole as I pray to God,
Begging that the creep who hanged me won’t outlast this day;
Quiet now, the storm winds welter, wailing on their way!

 
  
Poem © 2019 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More Sunday’s Whirligig #235
 
More Poetry Pantry #496 at Poets United
 

Autumn ‘Firsts’


Throughout the woodlands
dry cedars snap like matchsticks—
first loss of autumn.
 
Fear gripping his heart,
a wayfarer hurries on—
first clouds of autumn.
 
Autumn’s first full moon—
I catch glimpses of fairies
dancing in the moss.
 
On the garden path
I keep stumbling on pebbles—
autumn’s first thick mist.
 
In the dwindling light,
what is there to sing about?
First rain of autumn…
 
seeming far away
my childhood and its wonders—
autumn’s first cold snap

 
  
Haiku © 2019 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More Sunday’s Whirligig #234
  
More Haiku My Heart at Recuerda Mi Corazon