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Jim


Somewhere is better than nowhere, grinning is better than grim;
Bourbon is better than bibles, but nothing is better than Jim.
He’s the old guy with the bedroll, who’s had a hard knock or two;
He sleeps in a rusty wheelbarrow, parked every night at the zoo.
Jim hasn’t a care in the world, though ashes cover his beard,
And all the grownups who cross his path think he’s completely weird.
But children think Jim’s a wonder—he teaches them letters and sums,
And never asks for a penny, and lets them pound on his drums!
The children all think that Jim’s tale is something that ought to be told,
So here’s to all the Jims of the world, who cannot be bought or sold!

 
 
Poem © 2020 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More The Whirligig #290
 
More Writers’ Pantry #44 at Poets and Storytellers United

 

If You Dance


If you dance, you’ll need some salt.
Tumble down into the vault,
Where the salt is mixed with wind—
No, my dear, it’s not been tinned!
 
Best to take the salt at once,
Lest you turn into a dunce,
Crying with the living dead,
Who do not care what you’re fed.
 
Still, the best is yet to come:
See the dead man bind the drum
To his forehead with a string?
And you thought it was just bling!
 
Do not dread what is to come;
Though the dead man beats his drum
At least he’s not beating you!
All is well, and this is true.

 
  
Poem © 2019 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More Sunday’s Whirligig #216

My friends leave the room


My friends leave the room,
taking daylight with them,
along with the moon and stars.
The onset of an illness makes me
morbid, not dangerous.
In my trance-like state,
I care for nothing.
What led me away from
wisdom’s eight strong pillars?
Will giving you the symptoms
of my illness point me to a cure?

 

Poem © 2018 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 

NOTE: This poem is almost entirely the product of my imagination. Any resemblances to my own life are purely coincidental.
 
 
More Sunday’s Whirligig #154
   
More Poetry Pantry #396 at Poets United

Whirling with Basho

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


 
~~ 1 ~~
 
gazing at buckwheat
seven crows collaborate
on a thieving plan
 
~~ 2 ~~
 
a singing skylark—
I listen without breathing
to the joyful sound
 
~~ 3 ~~
 
the melon flower
after the children throw stones
who will care for it
 
~~ 4 ~~
 
a year of troubles
lived without compromising
her integrity
 
~~ 5 ~~
 
Are you the butterfly
that will serve to guide my steps
on the long journey?
 
~~ 6 ~~
 
the source of sadness
in their small community—
receding river
 
~~ 7 ~~
 
a white azalea
blooming in a state of grace—
my neighbor’s garden
 
~~ 8 ~~
 
the muddy melon
they chat about its sweetness
in the market stall
 
~~ 9 ~~
 
to admire the wind
she must have had no contact
with it since childhood
 
~~ 10 ~~
 
by winter showers
decades of matrimony
washing down the street
 
~~ 11 ~~
 
a vendor of greens—
concerns about the collards
make for sleepless nights
 
~~ 12 ~~
 
souvenir paintings
no time to buy one before
the next train departs

 
© 2014 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More Poetry Pantry #216
 
More The Sunday Whirl, Wordle 176