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The Darksome Poet


What rhymes with blue erasers? Nothing that I know.
Ask the thirty thirsty pencils that live down below.
 
Perhaps the smallest pencil is longer than you think,
And knows the word you’re looking for, written in red ink.
 
I believe that snips and scraps, at least not more than three,
Can be used to slit your throat, or make poetry.
 
I know my tale has ended in a dark and somber way,
But I am a darksome poet, so what more can I say?

 
  
Poem © 2019 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More Sunday’s Whirligig #215
 
More Poetry Pantry #481 at Poets United

Footbridge

 photo DSC_0028202_zpsrhofa5om.jpg
Footbridge, Santa Rosa Plateau Ecological Preserve, Riverside County, California
 


a scrap of paper—
scribbling some words as she walks
across the footbridge

 
Haiku and photo © 2016 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
More Shadow Shot Sunday 2
 
More Sunday Scribblings 2: “Paper”

Scrap

 photo RuinsRiver7Mo13183a_zpsfa80ac93.jpg
Aztec Ruins, Aztec, New Mexico
 


a scrap of wisdom
nestling in the ruined walls—
pilgrim souls rejoice

 
Text and photo © 2014 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
More Shadow Shot Sunday 2
 
More Haiku Horizons: “Scrap”
 
More Carpe Diem: “Pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela”