Blog Archives
Four Haiku with Tea
1.
This hair in my tea—
how can I not dislike it?
Spring’s first misfortune…
2.
These shaded flowers
seem to want to climb the wall,
eager for more light.
3.
O sorrowful moss,
surely you know that your hurt
has drawn me to you.
4.
When autumn arrives,
meet me in the swirling leaves
near the maple tree.
More The Whirligig #318
More Writers’ Pantry #70 at Poets and Storytellers United
Haibun: Braiding Stories
Among the flowers and grasses, tiny yellow-and-brown things with wings land and take off, take off and land. Should I be worried that I do not know their names? I lift one of the things from a flower stained with its excrement—so small to have made such a big mess! Looking at this nameless thing strips me of all notions of superiority. I know that the day is coming when my own stains will be concealed by the undertaker’s art. But that day can wait. I still have stories to braid.
A woman sleeping
on a green park bench wakes up,
stretching and yawning.
Haibun: Bathing the Turtle
Sheltered by a stand of willows, I watch a young boy giving his pet turtle a scrub in the pond. Obviously this turtle’s well cared for, and no disease will carry it away. Such empathy! I fight the urge to cry out, “What a great kid!” If only I had some flowers to leave to show my appreciation for this boy’s tenderness. But I must go. Thankful for this little diversion from the day’s bad news, I turn toward home. It’s a long walk. If I’m lucky, I’ll get there before dark.
All my bitter tears
vanish in a single note
from the blackbird’s throat.
Ruby Tuesday Too: Flowers
Red geraniums and petunias brighten a patio, Colfax, Washington.
Photo © 2018 by Magical Mystical Teacher
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Does She Dare to Hope?
Crouching in her cave
she gulps wine mixed
with sugars from the date and fig,
wine that burns like fire.
Bonds of frailty hold her fast.
Outside, in the garden of good and evil,
flowers big as moons bloom so bright
they appear to be burning flares,
but she cannot see them.
In her cave, all is darkness,
yet she seems to hear a voice read words
older than the prophets:
“Though our outer nature is wasting away,
our inner nature is being renewed every day.”
Does she dare to hope?
More Sunday’s Whirligig #153
More Poetry Pantry #395 at Poets United
Teacher
A tuft of feathers, Sonoran Desert, Southern Arizona
Planets lose their way,
birds and flowers turn to dust—
the old teacher weeps.
Haiku © 2016 by Magical Mystical Teacher
More Midweek Motif at Poets United: “Teaching”
Bouquet
Silk flowers blown by the wind from a small desert cemetery, Southern Arizona
After one fierce gust,
a bouquet of silk flowers
rests against the fence.
Haiku and photo © 2016 by Magical Mystical Teacher
More Macro Monday 2
More Shadow Shot Sunday 2
Climate
Yucca in bloom, March 2016, Anza-Borrego Desert State Park, Southern California
In this desert climate
Days are getting warm—
Even yucca blossoms
Have become the norm.
But only for a season
Are the flowers bright—
When days begin to sizzle,
All things long for night!
Poem and photo © 2016 by Magical Mystical Teacher
More SkyWatch Friday
More Midweek Motif at Poets United: “Climate”
Barren
Part of a floral decoration blown from a small cemetery, Sonoran Desert, Southern Arizona
In a barren land
not even red silk flowers
signify good luck.
Haiku © 2016 and photo © 2013 by Magical Mystical Teacher
More SkyWatch Friday
Whimsies
~~ 1 ~~
waking one more time
to the familiar nightmare—
seven years of drought
~~ 2 ~~
her whole life askew
all her dreams in disarray—
end of their affair
~~ 3 ~~
a steady right hand—
the helmsman at the tiller
guiding the ship home
~~ 4 ~~
In the fairy tale
about the furry creature,
not one hair is lost.
~~ 5 ~~
learning the dark side
as three unhappy sisters
trade sinister tales
~~ 6 ~~
sanguinary song
upon withdrawing his sword
from his vanquished foe
~~ 7 ~~
the pull of the moon
tugging the sea from the shore
closer to the stars
~~ 8 ~~
weary white flowers
drooping over the gilt edge
of the purple vase
~~ 9 ~~
behind the guesthouse
a path leading to nowhere
in particular
~~ 10 ~~
these fleeting moments
in which to scribble haiku—
unexpected gift
~~ 11 ~~
locked forever
in the cage of her longing
for things out of reach
~~ 12 ~~
in apple harvest
agile pickers in the trees
plucking crimson fruit
© 2015 by Magical Mystical Teacher
More Poetry Pantry #248
More Sunday’s Whirligig #3
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