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In This Morgue


In this morgue, this dismal place,
A blind beggar hangs his face
By the mirror on the wall
In the stinking bathroom stall.
Sipping brandy in the loo,
He remembers what to do:
Look for a new walking stick,
One that will not clack or click.

Sideways now he tilts his head,
Living man among the dead,
Happy man with no tattoo—
Love will show him what is true!


 

Poem © 2020 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More The Whirligig #254
 
More Writers’ Pantry #8 at Poets and Storytellers United

 

The Worst of Rhymes in the Worst of Times


 
Slides exist, along with swings—
So do birds with broken wings.
 
Test the syrup in the cup.
If it’s bitter, lap it up.
 
Don’t despair when despots rule.
One day they’ll be dead—how cool!
 
Break bad habits or they’ll last
Even after your life’s past.
 
Happy are the ones who do
Homework by the rules—it’s true!
 
First or last, last or first,
These rhymes are the very worst!

 
Pretty bad couplets © 2018 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More Sunday’s Whirligig #186
 
More Poetry Pantry #427 at Poets United

Five Little Sillies


Can you be happy in your distress
Or will you just suffer and be a mess?
 
~~ ~~ ~~
 
Bitterness! Now, there’s a thought,
Something that I think I ought
Never, ever to embrace—
Let me look into your face.
 
~~ ~~ ~~
 
It’s better, I think, to shift your eyes
Away from the things that spell your demise
And focus instead on the good and true.
Well, that’s what I think. Now, how about you?
 
~~ ~~ ~~
 
Walking through the fog alone,
Gnawing on a raven’s bone
Makes me want to shout, not sing:
Wish I had the raven’s wing!
 
~~ ~~ ~~
 
I’m emboldened to do deeds
That will take me far from Leeds;
Never mind my indigence,
I will make my way to France.

 
Poems © 2018 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More Sunday’s Whirligig #171
 
More Poetry Pantry #412 at Poets United