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Single

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Mother and child, San Miguel de Allende, Guanajuato, México
 


A single mother,
feeling hard stares from the crowd,
hurries far away.

 
Haiku © 2016 and photo © 2015 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More Midweek Motif at Poets United: “Social Stigma”

Perspectives

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~~ 1 ~~
 
ten million poppies
carpeting the soldiers’ graves
near the killing fields
 
~~ 2 ~~
 
innocent blood spilled
in a backstreet of Baghdad—
news at six o’clock
 
~~ 3 ~~
 
The soldier’s widow—
how can she ever forget
his empty left sleeve?
 
~~ 4 ~~
 
coastal snow flurries
in the middle of summer—
those wanton moments
 
~~ 5 ~~
 
summer wildflowers—
no one remembers the name
of the yellow ones
 
~~ 6 ~~
 
three dandelions
clutched in the little boy’s hand—
his Mother’s Day gift
 
~~ 7 ~~
 
aflame with desire
for something just out of reach—
teacakes under glass
 
~~ 8 ~~
 
single grain of rice
gracing the monk’s dinner plate—
enough, for a change
 
~~ 9 ~~
 
the stallion’s nostrils
flaring with indignation
at bit and bridle
 
~~ 10 ~~
 
a spool of white thread
covered with dust on the shelf—
seamstress in mourning
 
~~ 11 ~~
 
giving the old chair
another coat of varnish—
summer’s first full moon

 
Haiku © 2016 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More Poetry Pantry #308
 
More Sunday’s Whirligig #65

Whirling with Fay

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Each haiku begins with a phrase shamelessly purloined from various haiku in Fay Aoyagi’s In Borrowed Shoes.
 
 


 
~~ 1 ~~
 
Hole in my sweater—
the shopping list I scribbled
slips between loose threads.
 
~~ 2 ~~
 
shadow with no name
in a channel of the shelf
holding holy books
 
~~ 3 ~~
 
snip of the scissors—
her seven-years-long ennui
resisting the cut
 
~~ 4 ~~
 
A custody case
condemns their children to death
by separation.
 
~~ 5 ~~
 
day for flying kites—
an inky one soars higher
than all the others
 
~~ 6 ~~
 
heat of the stone wall
still warming the lone fly’s wings
long after day’s end
 
~~ 7 ~~
 
first dandelions
and the smell of fresh-mown grass—
snow-day memories
 
~~ 8 ~~
 
For the butterfly
a single open blossom
will suffice for lunch.
 
~~ 9 ~~
 
A praying mantis—
will he soon capitulate
to the bumblebee?
 
~~ 10 ~~
 
Red quince blooming—
further delay makes no sense
to the hungry bee.
 
~~ 11 ~~
 
Morning glory seeds—
one of them will generate
a thousand blossoms.
 
~~ 12 ~~
 
a story inside
to render children speechless—
pomegranate seed

 
© 2015 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More Poetry Pantry #234
 
More The Sunday Whirl, Wordle 195

Seeking One Ripe Plum

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~~ 1 ~~
 
Seeking one ripe plum,
I approach the laden tree
with a grateful heart.
 
~~ 2 ~~
 
seeking one ripe plum
behind the blue pantry door—
no one has a key
 
~~ 3 ~~
 
Seeking one ripe plum
to split among my children—
each will taste a slice.
 
~~ 4 ~~
 
seeking one ripe plum
to the east of the grain field—
three crows menace me
 
~~ 5 ~~
 
seeking one ripe plum
to give to the single mom
in Apartment 3
 
~~ 6 ~~
 
Seeking one ripe plum
I scratch my head in wonder
before the gnarled tree.
 
~~ 7 ~~
 
seeking one ripe plum—
depending on the moon’s phase
I might find seven
 
~~ 8 ~~
 
seeking one ripe plum
while the player piano
rolls out tinkly tunes
 
~~ 9 ~~
 
seeking one ripe plum
for the youngest of my sons—
his birthday present
 
~~ 10 ~~
 
Seeking one ripe plum—
the glint in her eye tells me
she’ll split the bounty.
 
~~ 11 ~~
 
seeking one ripe plum
on a level garden path
wingless butterfly
 
~~ 12 ~~
 
seeking one ripe plum
while spiders attach their webs
to my eyes and ears

 
© 2014 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More Poetry Pantry #207
 
More Sunday Scribblings 2: “Plum”
 
More The Sunday Whirl, Wordle 167

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