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Weird Tales

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A brittlebush blossom on a winter’s day, Sonoran Desert, Southern Arizona
 
 


  
~~ 1 ~~
  
In a burlap sack
a piece of bread with butter
crumbles into dust.
  
~~ 2 ~~
  
For ferocity
she cannot be forgiven,
says the priest in grey.
  
~~ 3 ~~
  
Winter afternoon—
why have you gutted my soul
by deceiving me?
  
~~ 4 ~~
  
winter afternoon—
going home to feed the dog
from an empty bag
  
~~ 5 ~~
  
winter afternoon—
crumbs of holiness hidden
in a paper bag
  
~~ 6 ~~
  
Winter afternoon—
having grained the mare,
she lies down to nap.
 

 
Haiku © 2017 by Magical Mystical Teacher
  
  
More Macro Monday 2
  
More Sunday’s Whirligig #98
  
More Poetry Pantry #340 at Poets United

It’s in the Bag

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~~ 1 ~~
 
an old demimonde
brown paper bag in her hand
munching stale bonbons
 
~~ 2 ~~
 
bag of oranges
spilling on the kitchen floor—
mouse runs for cover
 
~~ 3 ~~
 
rainy afternoon—
groping for her knitting bag
in the grey half-light
 
~~ 4 ~~
 
in the asylum
inmates picking through a bag
of cast-off clothing
 
~~ 5 ~~
 
in a marketplace
somewhere east of Africa
wisdom by the bag
 
~~ 6 ~~
 
for her transgression
a silken bag of demons
slicing up her heart
 
~~ 7 ~~
 
abomination—
a paper bag of dog shit
tossed on my front porch
 
~~ 8 ~~
 
for wannabe men
seventeen rites of passage
hidden in a bag
 
~~ 9 ~~
 
the old believer’s
unwavering allegiance
to God’s bag of tricks
 
~~ 10 ~~
 
everlasting shame—
nothing grand about the bag
that holds his jewels
 
~~ 11 ~~
 
candle in a bag
sending out a feeble light
on this holy eve
 
~~ 12 ~~
 
how she fears to be
reborn as a cricket’s leg
or an empty bag
 
~~ 13 ~~
 
(myself)

 
© 2014 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More Poetry Pantry #214
 
More Sunday Scribblings 2: “Bag”
 
More The Sunday Whirl, Wordle 174