Category Archives: The Sunday Whirl
Six Tanka
Of this week’s dozen words I have used: feast, empty, torn, escape, ghost, laugh
~~ 1 ~~
another ghost town
where we begin to trample
spirits in the dust—
a long, long dance at midnight
the Milky Way our partner
~~ 2 ~~
an old photograph—
two boys wrapped in a straw mat
trying not to laugh
remembering their mischief
in their geography class
~~ 3 ~~
Ten thousand pigeons,
a furious featherstorm—
is there no escape
from the thunder of their wings
calling up clouds at noonday?
~~ 4 ~~
ripened pollen grains
hiding in the flower’s heart—
feast for bee and ant
and every other creature
seeking a treat for the tongue
~~ 5 ~~
pure honey of grace
in the daily quietude
of an empty house—
even the mice are napping
on this torrid afternoon
~~ 6 ~~
old paper, fresh words
torn envelope the canvas
for brushing haiku—
master stumbles out of bed
to fix his dream in black ink
© 2015 by Magical Mystical Teacher
More The Sunday Whirl, Wordle 212
Tanka-esque
Of this week’s dozen words I have used: chill, rattle, cry, plaster, drum, chill
~~ 1 ~~
wrapped in a straw mat—
three smooth stones from the river
ripe with autumn’s chill
an axe to split them open
for sucking out the marrow
~~ 2 ~~
Startled by the cry
of a ripening cherry,
the old man stumbles,
breaking his arm’s plaster cast
into a thousand pieces.
~~ 3 ~~
the rain is over
for seven years and a day
empty husks rattle—
little playthings of the wind
drumming up more misery
© 2015 by Magical Mystical Teacher
More The Sunday Whirl, Wordle 211
Tanka Time
Of this week’s dozen words I have used: bones, river, teeth, reveal, emerge, reel
~~ 1 ~~
In the wilderness
the ancient tree women sing
with fire in their bones—
ravens joining the chorus
cannot quench the fierce burning.
~~ 2 ~~
resting for an hour
in the shadows of the pines—
river in her heart
flowing toward restoration
flowing away from despair
~~ 3 ~~
Hurry, they are here,
the ones you have waited for,
teeth sharp, eyes aglow,
disguised as clowns and donkeys,
but eager to devour you.
~~ 4 ~~
secrets of the moth
revealed in graphic detail—
the old druid sings
and in his singing new wings
form between his broken teeth
~~ 5 ~~
Fishing from the bridge
with a stolen rod and reel—
Egypt lies downstream
where ten thousand hapless souls
still wait for deliverance.
~~ 6 ~~
God of the kitchen,
may nothing dreadful emerge
from my pots and pans,
but only savory things,
filled with the spice of wonder.
© 2015 by Magical Mystical Teacher
More The Sunday Whirl, Wordle 210
Tanka Fest
~~ 1 ~~
in the next canyon,
a spacious place for camping—
cottonwood circle
where tired wanderers bed down
covering themselves with stars
~~ 2 ~~
on the granite floor
rivers of fresh blood flowing
from the killing spree—
scene of hell and damnation
the keening of the bereaved
~~ 3 ~~
the caressing warmth
of a single tear flowing
down her furrowed cheek—
the fire of her memories
thawing the ice within her
~~ 4 ~~
marshmallow eaters
their kayak beached for the night
gathering driftwood
enough for an all-night fire
half for warmth and half for fun
~~ 5 ~~
black cat dips one paw
into circles of sunshine
on the kitchen floor
pretending that a mouse feast
is simmering in the warmth
© 2015 by Magical Mystical Teacher
More The Sunday Whirl, Wordle 209
The Hard Road
~~ 1 ~~
as if the hard road
were nothing more than spirit
shifting in a breeze
~~ 2 ~~
as if the hard road
with all its cracks and bruising
could convey us hence
~~ 3 ~~
as if the hard road
could be negotiated
by instinct alone
~~ 4 ~~
as if the hard road
on which we staggered last night
would be smooth today
~~ 5 ~~
as if the hard road
would not hamper our footsteps
leading us astray
~~ 6 ~~
as if the hard road,
its tilt and awkward angle,
would not deter us
~~ 7 ~~
as if the hard road
could not keep pilgrims awake
as they journey on
~~ 8 ~~
as if the hard road
were the last place that we smiled
for a thousand years
© 2015 by Magical Mystical Teacher
More The Sunday Whirl, Wordle 208
Whirling with Alberto
Each breath-of-a-poem begins with a phrase taken from “The Lime Orchard Woman” by Alberto Álvaro Ríos .
~~ 1 ~~
traveling circus—
the man with the kewpie dolls
pushes pins in one
~~ 2 ~~
At the silliness
of the clown with the red ball
old men are weeping.
~~ 3 ~~
as if by small bones
she could keep the scorpion
from attacking her
~~ 4 ~~
the way she begins
to bite into her heartbreak
as a ripened plum
~~ 5 ~~
At the silliness
of an ear that tries to sing,
she begins to laugh.
~~ 6 ~~
She sits and watches
as the blind man stumbles home,
his white cane broken.
~~ 7 ~~
People look at her
as though the witches spawned her
late one Friday night.
~~ 8 ~~
One centimeter
away from resurrection
it all falls apart.
~~ 9 ~~
the edge of a wall
where an old man stands alone
watching plums ripen
~~ 10 ~~
leading to his house
a trail of broken timbers
branded with hex signs
~~ 11 ~~
mountains that open
as though spells from long ago
were being broken
~~ 12 ~~
the moment to breathe
the moment she has hunted
among the house wrens
© 2015 by Magical Mystical Teacher
More The Sunday Whirl, Wordle 207
Whirling with Marge
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
Stripping Flesh from Bones
~~ 1 ~~
What am I to do
with this blank sheet of paper
and an empty pen?
~~ 2 ~~
A dream at midnight—
someone mumbling Basho’s name
imitates a frog.
~~ 3 ~~
three clay pots—
white chrysanthemums
in full bloom
~~ 4 ~~
three stolen plums
stuffed in his left pocket
to eat later
~~ 5 ~~
wild roses
blooming on roadsides
in Georgia
~~ 6 ~~
She speaks in tongues
that no one understands
except her god.
~~ 7 ~~
lying down to sleep
in different beds each night—
her long loneliness
~~ 8 ~~
powers of darkness
gathering near the hedgerow
disguised as egrets
~~ 9 ~~
As the signpost burns,
I take off my tattered shoes
to walk barefoot home.
~~ 10 ~~
at my journey’s end
laying down my faithful staff
to take up a cross
~~ 11 ~~
stripping flesh from bones
through every kind of weather—
Dr. Death at work
~~ 12 ~~
Beginnings are hard—
ask the chick trapped in the shell
or the child in school.
© 2015 by Magical Mystical Teacher
More Poetry Pantry #244
More The Sunday Whirl, Wordle 204
Another Baja Whirl
Each breath-of-a-poem begins with a phrase taken from The Forgotten Peninsula: A Naturalist in Baja California by Joseph Wood Krutch
~~ 1 ~~
Saints and mysteries
will keep any plague at bay
for an hour or two.
~~ 2 ~~
near my own front door
the blasphemy of a clown
making oaks tremble
~~ 3 ~~
From the burning wood
a whole tale of woe is born—
my house turns to ash.
~~ 4 ~~
deserted village—
the deck of the grandest house
crumbling into dust
~~ 5 ~~
the northwest corner
where all the temple monkeys
chatter morning prayers
~~ 6 ~~
peach tree in full bloom—
she savors the sweet, ripe fruit
five months from today
~~ 7 ~~
a wizard’s garden—
his rustling among the herbs
till he plucks one leaf
~~ 8 ~~
to travel southward
where the hills are dry and brown—
the pilgrim’s longing
~~ 9 ~~
the caressing warmth
of a single tear flowing
down her furrowed cheek
© 2015 by Magical Mystical Teacher
More The Sunday Whirl, Wordle 203
Whirling in Baja California
Each breath-of-a-poem begins with a phrase taken from The Forgotten Peninsula: A Naturalist in Baja California by Joseph Wood Krutch
~~ 1 ~~
to adorn the tale
she attaches a red string
to one paragraph
~~ 2 ~~
romantic story
its sensual images
titillating her
~~ 3 ~~
forlorn and empty
except for a wayward wind—
house on the corner
~~ 4 ~~
another ghost town
where we begin to trample
spirits in the dust
~~ 5 ~~
an English sparrow
making excuses at dusk
for having no nest
~~ 6 ~~
the great sparkling sea
lurking below the surface
a deadly stingray
~~ 7 ~~
no longer flowing
where she hoped to plant orchards
the underground streams
~~ 8 ~~
an English sparrow
kneading the morning with song
until it rises
~~ 9 ~~
So many mountains—
which will she begin to climb
before the day ends?
~~ 10 ~~
a long history
of brandishing his war club
near his neighbor’s house
~~ 11 ~~
The hard way will come
if we drive or take the train—
the same old story.
~~ 12 ~~
the journey’s mishaps—
despite the pain that lingers
planning one more trip
© 2015 by Magical Mystical Teacher
More Poetry Pantry #242
More The Sunday Whirl, Wordle 202
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