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Desert detritus photo SonoranFeb2013763a_zps72e0a732.jpg
Rusty can, Sonoran Desert, Southern Arizona

warm rain
the spring moon returns
to the rusty can

curling into a ball
the size of a kitten

*Opening gambit © by Yu Chang
Final two lines and photo © 2015 by Magical Mystical Teacher
More Macro Monday 2
More Carpe Diem Tan Renga Challenge: “Yu Chang’s ‘Warm Rain'”

Whirling with Alberto

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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

In the Soul’s Pasture

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~~ 1 ~~
in the soul’s pasture
three dappled horses grazing
on errant starfire
~~ 2 ~~
in the soul’s pasture
a signal from the horses
that smoke will follow
~~ 3 ~~
In the soul’s pasture
a rose of hope is blooming,
nourished by God’s grace.
~~ 4 ~~
in the soul’s pasture
a plant of boundless mercy—
food for hungry ones
~~ 5 ~~
In the soul’s pasture
the dismal and forsaken
find themselves again.
~~ 6 ~~
In the soul’s pasture
tiny, meandering streams
quench the pilgrim’s thirst.
~~ 7 ~~
In the soul’s pasture
bombs and bullets melt away—
plowshares take their place.
~~ 8 ~~
in the soul’s pasture
a spot where tumbleweeds thrive
threatening to spread
~~ 9 ~~
In the soul’s pasture
a ball of mud is lying
mid the sweet grasses.
~~ 10 ~~
In the soul’s pasture,
although some locks are rusted,
others turn with ease.
~~ 11 ~~
In the soul’s pasture
three pilgrims thrust and parry
with their wooden swords.
~~ 12 ~~
In the soul’s pasture,
somewhere near the edge of time,
pipers play a dirge.

© 2014 by Magical Mystical Teacher
More The Sunday Whirl, Wordle 177
More Sunday Scribblings 2: “In the Soul’s Pasture”

Another Whirl with Basho

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Each haiku or senryu begins with a phrase culled from Basho: The Complete Haiku.

~~ 1 ~~
upstream and downstream
the dismal washerwomen
beating clothes on stones
~~ 2 ~~
the tide’s salty crests
signal an end to summer
and my discontent
~~ 3 ~~
whose old singing voice
moves into the empty spot
where the oak once stood
~~ 4 ~~
those who like to drink
rose-petal tea at twilight
sipping at their prayers
~~ 5 ~~
gotten by praying
to the goddess of bullets
an untimely death
~~ 6 ~~
from an unknown tree
at the edge of the forest
the cry of water
~~ 7 ~~
even coming twice
the horses seeking sugar
do not get enough
~~ 8 ~~
a bamboo thicket
where no other plant can thrive
rictus of the moon
~~ 9 ~~
without rain or snow
the empty meandering
of mountain streambeds
~~ 10 ~~
year-end housecleaning
even the locks on my doors
deserve to be brushed
~~ 11 ~~
the cicada’s voice
curls into a tiny ball
just before sunrise
~~ 12 ~~
from all directions
my foes thrust their spears at me
shafts of pampas grass

© 2014 by Magical Mystical Teacher
More Poetry Pantry #217
More The Sunday Whirl, Wordle 177

Whirling with Richard Wright

The first line of each haiku or senryu is taken from Haiku: This Other World by Richard Wright.
This week’s whirling words are: wayward, falling, frenzy, attack, sublime, strange, settle, rough, channel, ball, robust, life


An empty seashore—
not even wayward children
picking up stray shells.
~~ ~~ ~~
Droning autumn rain,
falling since seven a.m.—
will it never cease?
~~ ~~ ~~
Faint sounds of a flute—
a frenzy of emotions
rising within me.
~~ ~~ ~~
A white butterfly
positioning for attack—
sunflower shudders.
~~ ~~ ~~
Is it possible
for sublime conversations
to spawn violence?
~~ ~~ ~~
In an April fog
three strange women are walking—
one begins to chant.
~~ ~~ ~~
The first day of spring,
wind roaring down from the north—
where will it settle?
~~ ~~ ~~
Just enough of moon
to smooth off the rough edges
of one splintered bone.
~~ ~~ ~~
Which is more distant?
The channel through the mountains
or the ocean strand?
~~ ~~ ~~
The scarecrow shudders
as a ball of mud hurtles
toward his straw-filled cheeks.
~~ ~~ ~~
Pen me a letter,
robust, rich, and bristling with
Anglo-Saxon words.
~~ ~~ ~~
Walking home alone,
the life I lived unraveled
strand by strand by strand.

© 2012 by Magical Mystical Teacher
More The Poetry Pantry #108
More The Sunday Whirl, Wordle 67
More Carpe Diem: “Inspired by Richard Wright”