Category Archives: The Whirligig

I Dared to Dream Some Poems


1.
Orange juice with ice—
my summer griefs disappear
with a few cold sips.
 
2.
Sticky-fingered boy,
the peach you stole from market
makes you laugh—such joy!
 
3.
Tell me, earth and sky,
do you know why some would harm
the white butterfly?
 
4.
Season by season
I’ll tend my little corner
till my hands are numb.

© 2022 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More The Whirligig #377
 
More Haiku My Heart at Recuerda Mi Corazon
 
More Friday Writings #33 at Poets and Storytellers United

 

Lost Songs of Summer


1.
Down a winding path
we hike to a summer grove—
listen, the breeze sings!
 
2.
Summer afternoon—
a river combs through old stones,
looking for lost songs.
 
3.
Cheek to cheek we sway,
holding each other, dancing
like weeds in the wind.
 
4.
Summer tragedy—
the face of an old drag queen
crumples in the heat.

© 2022 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More The Whirligig #376
 
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More Friday Writings #32 at Poets and Storytellers United

 

Four Haiku Celebrating Summer


1.
Crimson hollyhocks,
how many names of wild things
hide in your blossoms?
 
2.
The peony’s death
happened not in a moment,
for the drought was deep.
 
3.
A little girl waves
at some honeysuckle vines
shaking in the wind.
 
4.
This apricot’s flesh,
sweeter than any honey,
titillates my tongue.

© 2022 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More The Whirligig #375
 
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More Friday Writings #31 at Poets and Storytellers United

 

Haibun: Cataracts


“You don’t have glaucoma, just cataracts,” my ophthalmologist says cheerfully. Well, at least I’m not going blind, although my sight is clouded. Nighttime is the worst. I can’t even pick out the bright stars that form Ursa Major. The meaning of my restricted vision eludes me. What’s the point of my not seeing clearly the glories of this galaxy? I complain that my irises no longer do what they were designed to do. “Sometimes I feel like I’m looking down a long narrow hall,” I say. “Other times, my sight hits a wall.” My ophthalmologist shrugs. “Presbyopia,” he says. “It happens to all of us as we age.” Small consolation, I think, as I leave his office. I’ve never wanted to be like everyone else.
 

Spring tranquility—
in the noonday sun cattle
settle down to nap.

© 2022 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More The Whirligig #371
 
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More Friday Writings #27 at Poets and Storytellers United

 

Measure


I learn by laughing
how to measure out the pain
of spring’s cruelty.

Haiku © 2022 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More The Whirligig #369
 
More Haiku My Heart at Recuerda Mi Corazon
 
More Friday Writings #25 at Poets and Storytellers United

 

Praise


Misty April dawn—
a wren clinging to a twig
warbles songs of praise.

Haiku © 2022 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More The Whirligig #368
 
More Haiku My Heart at Recuerda Mi Corazon
 
More Friday Writings #24 at Poets and Storytellers United

 

Walls Breathe Out Stories


1.
Walls breathe out stories
that only mice understand—
April conundrums.
 
2.
You brought me three plums,
not even paying for them,
sweet gifts from your tree.
 
3.
Hailstones strip the tree,
ripe fruits plummet to the earth—
say no more of them!
 
4.
Whatever is left
after spring has slipped away—
this will be my song.
 
5.
A room with no view
is not the end of the world
as long as there’s tea.

Haiku © 2022 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More The Whirligig #365
 
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More Friday Writings #21 at Poets and Storytellers United

 

Mother Baked a Cake


Mother baked a cake that morphed
Into one that tasted bitter;
I would never reconsider
Eating Mother’s waiting cake.
 
But I walked down to the lake,
Where some strange thoughts I pursued:
Isn’t cake a healthy food,
Though the frosting tastes like rust?
 
Hunger moved me: Yes, I must
Go back to that modern kitchen
Where my mother was just itchin’
To serve slabs of birthday cake!
 
Homeward then I ran in haste
Zooming through the maple trees
Faster than an old dog’s fleas—
Couldn’t wait to eat that cake!

© 2022 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More The Whirligig #364
 
More Friday Writings #20 at Poets and Storytellers United

 

Four Haiku in Time of War


1.
The door stands open;
together we step outside
to visit the plum.
 
2.
Two small young children,
weary of the bomb shelter,
beg for fresh spring air.
 
3.
Bar the entryway
to the shore where wars begin—
let plum trees blossom!
 
4.
When the wick burns low,
the darkness will teach you things
that no light can show.

© 2022 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More The Whirligig #363
 
More Haiku My Heart at Recuerda Mi Corazon
 
More Friday Writings #19 at Poets and Storytellers United

 

Four Haiku on the Cusp of Spring


1.
Hand and wrist ready,
notebook pages clean and white,
I write spring haiku.
 
2.
Softly my pencil
brushes the paper, forming
words like plum blossoms.
 
3.
Heavy with blossoms
my plum tree appears to lean
almost to the earth!
 
4.
On the cusp of spring
we bury our old spaniel
after his last breath.

© 2022 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More The Whirligig #361
 
More Haiku My Heart at Recuerda Mi Corazon
 
More Friday Writings #17 at Poets and Storytellers United