Category Archives: We Write Poems

Whirling with Bob Atkinson

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The first line of each haiku or senryu is taken from “The Poet as a Politician” by Arizona poet Bob Atkinson.
 
 


that murky water
settling in darker places
where we dare not swim
 
~~ ~~ ~~
 
By weeping mothers
the name of the street is changed—
Desparecidos.
 
~~ ~~ ~~
 
In spite of our way,
we are able to create
music that God sings.
 
~~ ~~ ~~
 
A blanket woven
from worn words and wren feathers
warms the old woman.
 
~~ ~~ ~~
 
In other places
the calls to die come daily—
here we stop our ears.
 
~~ ~~ ~~
 
Primitive demon,
I would have you change my mind—
train me in your ways!
 
~~ ~~ ~~
 
We love each other,
even though March winds chill us,
causing us to faint.
 
~~ ~~ ~~
 
Truths devised our dream—
now we share that dream with you,
master-in-training.
 
~~ ~~ ~~
 
I like this writing—
it can stretch the galaxy
to admit our souls.

 
© 2013 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
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Sacred Morning Song

Window Rock
 

First Shoppers

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A narrow street (callejon), San Miguel de Allende, Guanajuato, México
 


Hungry for bargains,
first shoppers of the morning
scurry through the streets.

 
Text and photo © 2012 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
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Three Farewells to San Miguel

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The first line of each haiku or senryu below is taken from San Miguel de Allende, Guanajuato and the Bajío by Julie Doherty Meade. (I was in San Miguel de Allende last week, and left Saturday to return to the U.S.)
 
 


The crickets’ chiming
dissipates thick morning fog—
symphony of grace.
 
~~ ~~ ~~
 
a charming guest house
lenient in all its ways
pillowing my soul
 
~~ ~~ ~~
 
Mexican bedspreads—
I struggle to forget them
back in Iowa.

 
© 2012 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
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Three from San Miguel

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The first line of each haiku or senryu below is taken from San Miguel de Allende, Guanajuato and the Bajío by Julie Doherty Meade. (I’m in San Miguel de Allende for the week.)
 
 


A tiny alley—
fearing the cobblestones’ wrath,
I cling to the wall.
 
~~ ~~ ~~
 
A lazy morning—
I murmur that I love you
just to hear you sigh.
 
~~ ~~ ~~
 
If your appetite
has taken you by surprise—
quick! quesadillas!

 
© 2012 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
More We Write Poems, It’s Post Your Poems Day, Prompt #109: “Finding Pearls”
 
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Six More from San Miguel

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The first line of each haiku or senryu below is taken from San Miguel de Allende, Guanajuato and the Bajío by Julie Doherty Meade. (I’m in San Miguel de Allende for the week.)
 
This week’s whirling words are: bluffs, willow, corona, brush, trembled, mud, crawl, vessels, nail, stain, shadows, stones. I have used: brush, bluffs, nail, willow, crawl, stain.
 
 


a lazy morning—
I brush your lips with my own
just to hear you sigh
 
~~ ~~ ~~
 
handmade tortillas—
we eat them out at the bluffs
watching a hawk swoop
 
~~ ~~ ~~
 
find some live music
don’t nail your feet to the floor
Zumba till daybreak
 
~~ ~~ ~~
 
A warm afternoon—
in the shade of a willow,
we three sip mint tea.
 
~~ ~~ ~~
 
Bounty of produce—
I crawl through the Mercado,
choosing figs and limes.
 
~~ ~~ ~~
 
clanging iron bells
stain the air with holiness
Sunday before dawn

 
© 2012 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More We Write Poems, It’s Post Your Poems Day, Prompt #109: “Finding Pearls”
 
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Six from San Miguel

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The first line of each haiku or senryu below is taken from The Insider’s Guide to San Miguel by Archie Dean. (I’m in San Miguel de Allende for the week.)
 
This week’s whirling words are: bluffs, willow, corona, brush, trembled, mud, crawl, vessels, nail, stain, shadows, stones. I have used: vessels, trembled, mud, corona, stones, shadows.
 
 


The planting season—
we bring vessels filled with seed
to the fresh-plowed earth.
 
~~ ~~ ~~
 
Flowers and fruit trees
trembled when the old man came
armed with pruning shears.
 
~~ ~~ ~~
 
A master potter
knows the subtle ways of mud,
and how they shape her.
 
~~ ~~ ~~
 
Bullfights and fireworks—
I sip at a Corona,
savoring the night.
 
~~ ~~ ~~
 
From around the world,
gather stones the size of fists—
change them into bread.
 
~~ ~~ ~~
 
Altars in the homes—
in shadows spirits huddle,
hoping to be freed.

 
Bonus senryu, even though it has no Wordle word:
 

Masks and chandeliers—
who understands their stories,
told with tangled tongues?

 
© 2012 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More We Write Poems, It’s Post Your Poems Day, Prompt #109: “Finding Pearls”
 
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Six Forks in the Road

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A fork in the road—
to the right or to the left,
what does it matter?
 
~~ ~~ ~~
 
A fork in the road—
somewhere a flowered serpent
lurks along the path.
 
~~ ~~ ~~
 
A fork in the road—
here you survive on outrage,
gnawing on old bones.
 
~~ ~~ ~~
 
A fork in the road—
the air is thick with spirits
willing you to stray.
 
~~ ~~ ~~
 
a fork in the road—
an ancient leather suitcase
stuffed with maps and stones
 
~~ ~~ ~~
 
a fork in the road—
mists and shadows and specters
grabbing at my feet

 
© 2012 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More It’s Post Your Poems Day at We Write Poems, Prompt #106

Elusive Music

The Bull Pen
 

The countertop doll
would dance with zest if she could—
elusive music.

 
Text and photo © 2012 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
Photo: Doll for sale in the “bullpen,” Hubbell Trading Post, Ganado, Arizona
 
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REDnesday

Six Takes on ‘Zest’

Haiku Heights
 
The first line of each haiku or senryu below is taken from “Falling” by James Dickey.
 

in many places
the former zest has vanished
replaced by ennui
 
~~~ ~~~ ~~~
 
there are the waters
brimming with zest and healing—
let us take the plunge
 
~~~ ~~~ ~~~
 
rich farmers counting
their flourishing fields and flocks—
in their fingers, zest
 
~~~ ~~~ ~~~
 
Enlarging the moon—
zest for the impossible
keeps her young at heart.
 
~~~ ~~~ ~~~
 
all over Kansas
cicadas calling with zest—
sibilant music
 
~~~ ~~~ ~~~
 
Let her now take off
her tattered garment of zest
and put on ennui.

 
© 2012 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
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