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Three Weird Songs


I.
I will sing and laugh at table,
Tell my brother that I’m able
To eat pancakes every day—
Not with centipedes, no way!
 
II.
In the kitchen darker stories
Bloom like fatal morning glories;
Beautiful they are, but cruel,
Deadlier than day-old gruel.
 
III.
From a deep, enchanted well
Draw some water, say a spell
That will change (I know not how)
Donald Trump into a cow.


 
Poem © 2019 by Magical Mystical Teacher

Laughter

IMG_5351
A mural in Artists Alley, Ajo, Arizona
 
 

Listen to girls laugh—
no two are alike.
One’s laughter is sweet,
the other’s rings of deceit.
The best laughter
(think of someone you know)
surprises you
like hair falling
across your eyes
just as the blackbird
lifts off to fly
and all you can see
is a wingtip
and then it is gone.
Yet of life’s ten thousand joys
this is only one.

 

Poem and photo © 2017 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
   
More Sunday’s Whirligig #122
   
More Poetry Pantry #364 at Poets United

Six Tanka

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Of this week’s dozen words I have used: feast, empty, torn, escape, ghost, laugh
 


~~ 1 ~~
 
another ghost town
where we begin to trample
spirits in the dust—
a long, long dance at midnight
the Milky Way our partner
 
~~ 2 ~~
 
an old photograph—
two boys wrapped in a straw mat
trying not to laugh
remembering their mischief
in their geography class
 
~~ 3 ~~
 
Ten thousand pigeons,
a furious featherstorm—
is there no escape
from the thunder of their wings
calling up clouds at noonday?
 
~~ 4 ~~
 
ripened pollen grains
hiding in the flower’s heart—
feast for bee and ant
and every other creature
seeking a treat for the tongue
 
~~ 5 ~~
 
pure honey of grace
in the daily quietude
of an empty house—
even the mice are napping
on this torrid afternoon
 
~~ 6 ~~
 
old paper, fresh words
torn envelope the canvas
for brushing haiku—
master stumbles out of bed
to fix his dream in black ink

 
© 2015 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More The Sunday Whirl, Wordle 212

Wrapped in a Straw Mat

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~~ 1 ~~
 
wrapped in a straw mat
one small square of bleached muslin
still stained with his blood
 
~~ 2 ~~
 
humming gratitude—
beggar wrapped in a straw mat
pulled from the dumpster
 
~~ 3 ~~
 
her peace offering—
an olive and a ripe fig
wrapped in a straw mat
 
~~ 4 ~~
 
wrapped in a straw mat—
an old method for praying
when nothing else works
 
~~ 5 ~~
 
an old photograph—
two boys wrapped in a straw mat
trying not to laugh
 
~~ 6 ~~
 
wrapped in a straw mat—
broken sets of dominoes
swept up from the floor
 
~~ 7 ~~
 
wrapped in a straw mat—
three smooth stones from the river
ripe with autumn’s chill
 
~~ 8 ~~
 
morality play—
a fool wrapped in a straw mat
addressing the king
 
~~ 9 ~~
 
in the high country
old women wrapped in straw mats
to ward off the chill
 
~~ 10 ~~
 
wrapped in a straw mat
to mend her broken courage
after last night’s storm
 
~~ 11 ~~
 
wrapped in a straw mat
the shepherd guarding his sheep
on a frosty night
 
~~ 12 ~~
 
wrapped in a straw mat—
some intricate needlework
from a far village

 
© 2015 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More Poetry Pantry #253
 
More Sunday’s Whirligig #8
 
More Carpe Diem: “Basho’s ‘Wrapped in a Straw Mat'”

Grotesqueries: Take Three

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Each grotesquerie begins with a phrase purloined from One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel García Márquez, the Colombian novelist who died 17 April 2014.
 


 
~~ 1 ~~
 
dusty iguana
without a squeak advancing
on a hapless fly
 
~~ 2 ~~
 
wind from the graveyard
a treat for ghouls and goblins
how their nostrils twitch
 
~~ 3 ~~
 
Leave the whitewashed walls
to mate with floor and ceiling—
reproductive rights.
 
~~ 4 ~~
 
To play the zither
you need the skill of David,
the patience of Job.
 
~~ 5 ~~
 
With a gardenia
perfuming the kitchen’s pores,
all the saucers smile.
 
~~ 6 ~~
 
in his burning bed
a moth begins to flutter—
messenger of grace
 
~~ 7 ~~
 
the holy scriptures
where gods are meeting mortals
on unleveled fields
 
~~ 8 ~~
 
fabulous nightmare
according to the report
written in shorthand
 
~~ 9 ~~
 
jugglers with six arms
losing face when they fumble
and the balls go down
 
~~ 10 ~~
 
covered by strange maps
of fantastical places—
north wall of her room
 
~~ 11 ~~
 
at the desk scribbling
the old woman’s rueful laugh—
all her unpaid bills
 
~~ 12 ~~
 
In the sewing shop
the owner takes a survey
of the mannequins.
 
~~ 13 ~~
 
More baskets of bread
are stuck in Danish doorways
than in London lanes.
 
~~ 14 ~~
 
preaching in Latin
to pigeons in the town square—
gibbering old priest
 

 
© 2014 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More Poetry Pantry #203
 
More The Sunday Whirl, Wordle 162