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Poem

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Perhaps this artist is painting a poem: detail from a mural in Artists Alley, Ajo, Arizona
 


making a poem
not for profit or power
but to balance life

 
Haiku and photo © 2017 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More Macro Monday 2
 
More Sunday’s Whirligig #101

Wind

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A stone-lined pathway at Wupatki National Monument, Northern Arizona
 


power of the wind—
reducing stones to rubble
one grain at a time

 
Haiku © 2016 and photo © 2014 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More Midweek Motif at Poets United: “Wind Power”

Quick Takes

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Each little poem-breath begins with a phrase purloined from Paul Theroux’s Ghost Train to the Eastern Star.
 


 
~~ 1 ~~
 
In a stack of books
she finds a list of numbers—
pi comes at the end.
 
~~ 2 ~~
 
plump picture album—
placing it back on the shelf
to gorge on more dust
 
~~ 3 ~~
 
the little notebook—
holding it in her right hand
while the words quiver
 
~~ 4 ~~
 
shivering sparrows—
children say hello to them
but offer no cloaks
 
~~ 5 ~~
 
on a rusty bridge
she contemplates existence—
freight train bearing down
 
~~ 6 ~~
 
rain pelting sideways—
the monsoon’s monstrous power
lashing passersby
 
~~ 7 ~~
 
streets thick with traffic
not a single horn muffled—
such cacophony
 
~~ 8 ~~
 
an unlikely place
for a band of stomping monks—
the Doge’s palace
 
~~ 9 ~~
 
in a sacred place
the clamoring of pilgrims
not a whiff of prayer
 
~~ 10 ~~
 
praising the fish soup
in some strange piscine language—
old man of the sea
 
~~ 11 ~~
 
Amid the squalor
she hears the sizzle of fish
on an open fire.
 
~~ 12 ~~
 
in a yellow dish
a single shriveled lemon—
Van Gogh dips his brush

 
© 2014 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More Poetry Pantry #205
 
More The Sunday Whirl, Wordle 164

Whirling with Abraham

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This week’s words: barrier, detail, diamond, pleat, power, strap, swing, suspend, tough, unit, waterfall, zip

 
The first line of each 5-7-5 snippet is taken from various poems in Robert Bly‘s The Night Abraham Called to the Stars.


 
~~ 1 ~~
 
thrown into the fire
an old leather strap curling
then crumbling to ash
 
~~ 2 ~~
 
By the widow’s door
a tough old crow is lurking—
dare she let him in?
 
~~ 3 ~~
 
crack in the ceiling
loose thread in the plaid skirt’s pleat
things falling apart
 
~~ 4 ~~
 
So many forces
try to zip us in their bags
and whisk us away.
 
~~ 5 ~~
 
a strawberry patch
planted by the waterfall—
feast for the ravens
 
~~ 6 ~~
 
Eight thousand tulips
power the old Dutch windmill
with their heady scent.
 
~~ 7 ~~
 
around the orchard
erecting a barrier
against blossom thieves
 
~~ 8 ~~
 
The knees of the wind
swing this way and that, knocking
down bush and blossom.
 
~~ 9 ~~
 
some fiddle music
to suspend between two stars
while the fiddler rests
 
~~ 10 ~~
 
The house of sorrow
has not a single diamond,
only lumps of coal.
 
~~ 11 ~~
 
a single black hair
perfect in every detail
in the dead man’s nose
 
~~ 12 ~~
 
It’s too late to move
to Unit Number Seven—
someone stole the door.

 
© 2014 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
More Poetry Pantry #196
 
More The Sunday Whirl, Wordle 155