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The Parting


“I know that I will miss you,” he said with a slight shrug.
“But the cat has lost its tail, there’s darkness on the rug,
And cruelty is sport for fools, of which I am one;
Better we should part this day, and let the deed be done.”
 
“I will not discourage you,” she said without a sigh.
“You’ve been just short of horrible in all the years gone by.
You thought that I was fragile, you thought I was a toad,
But I withstood your onslaughts—now go, and hit the road!”

 
Poem © 2018 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More Sunday’s Whirligig #194

One thing I ask


One thing I ask:
that I might know true love
before I have no strength,
and the undertaker measures
how long I am, my length,
for the coffin he’s prepared,
from which my waxen face
will stare at those who pass.
Is this desire wrong?
Am I a fool to ask?
It makes me rich to think of love—
thus, I write my song.

 

Poem © 2018 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
   
More Sunday’s Whirligig #149
   
More Poetry Pantry #391 at Poets United

One More Whirl with Basho

178 photo 178_zps8801f563.jpg
 
Each haiku or senryu begins with a phrase culled from Basho: The Complete Haiku.
 


 
~~ 1 ~~
 
the lingering moon
tests my patience this evening—
my room is too small
 
~~ 2 ~~
 
in a rice paddy
your words coming to fullness
with the harvest moon
 
~~ 3 ~~
 
fading temple bell
the seeker’s anxiety
slips into silence
 
~~ 4 ~~
 
the smell of young grass
untainted by blood and gore
this April morning
 
~~ 5 ~~
 
four gates and four sects
one of them the hospital
at the ocean’s edge
 
~~ 6 ~~
 
to the wooden clogs
in the center of the court
setting up a shrine
 
~~ 7 ~~
 
still served with flowers
rosettes of orange Jell-O
blooming in my bowl
 
~~ 8 ~~
 
how pleasurable
holding three words on my tongue
until they mingle
 
~~ 9 ~~
 
the lay-monk’s thinness—
we know he won’t be with us
after the first frost
 
~~ 10 ~~
 
snow-covered mountains
sharing a meal together
fifty miles away
 
~~ 11 ~~
 
first wintry shower—
fluff from shattered milkweed pods
drifting from the north
 
~~ 12 ~~
 
an early winter
beggars pester passersby
for a few spare coins

 
© 2014 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More Poetry Pantry #218
 
More The Sunday Whirl, Wordle 178