Blog Archives

Five Haiku with Bitter Tea

how to bridge the gap
between the cricket’s chirpings—
summer conundrum
No wonder she frets:
Her belly is full of husks
instead of sweet corn.
the sound of ruin
roaring through the village streets—
rampaging waters
Broken violins
play sonatas in my dreams—
winter’s brittle notes.
I’m keeping your note:
one hundred words of protest
against summer’s heat.


Haiku © 2021 by Magical Mystical Teacher
More The Whirligig #327
More Writers’ Pantry #79 at Poets and Storytellers United


Haibun: Imagine

Imagine that you can go back in time to when you first loved the sound of rain in the night, or when you first identified the singing of the thrush. I know what you’re thinking: I’ll always be stuck in the here-and-now. But you don’t have to be. Imagine!
In the autumn woods
a tree stump becomes a throne
for an aging queen.


Haibun © 2020 by Magical Mystical Teacher


Anything Is Possible: A Haibun

If I could touch the sound of a dove with my fingertips, I would. But my hopes are dashed; the little songster flees as I draw near. The dove calls again. Surely this time! Stealthily I move forward, but a dry leaf crackles underfoot. Hush now, I say to myself, you’re making too much noise; surely she hears you. But, no, there on a branch of the plum is the dove, and there is her song, pouring from her beak like a silver waterfall. Slowly, ever so slowly, I approach, I reach, I touch the sparkling notes. The dove does not stir, though she knows full well what I’m doing. You doubt my story? In the Age of Donald Trump, anything is possible.

An old Buddhist monk,
who never tells me his name,
visits me in dreams.


Haibun © 2020 by Magical Mystical Teacher
More Sunday’s Whirligig #248
More Writers’ Pantry #2 at Poets and Storytellers United


Prayer in Time of Drought

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Lord, the little plants need water.
Send Your healing rain.
Let the sound of its falling
refresh my weary soul
as I walk barefoot through the garden,
damp earth beneath my feet,
thinking of all Your marvelous ways—
how You never force Yourself upon me,
but like light that warms or blinds,
You come to me each day,
inviting me to choose,
and in this time of drought
I choose blindness.
Dazzle me with Your presence
in each drop of rain.


Poem © 2016 by Magical Mystical Teacher
More Poetry Pantry #301
More Sunday’s Whirligig #58


Catfish bones photo Sonoran.catbones_zps28zgg4tj.jpg
Discarded catfish carcass, Sonoran Desert, Southern Arizona

howling wind—
an autumn note within
the bamboo flute

even catfish bones
quiver at the sound

*Opening gambit © by Kala Ramesh
Final two lines and photo © 2015 by Magical Mystical Teacher
More Shadow Shot Sunday 2
More A Prompt Each Day: “Flute”
More Carpe Diem: “Kala Ramesh’s ‘Howling Wind'”


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~~ 1 ~~
another country
without a single border
touching the Black Sea
~~ 2 ~~
fleece of the black sheep
tossed on the shearing room floor
among the white ones
~~ 3 ~~
Fill the empty cup
with your broken promises
and your hollow words.
~~ 4 ~~
seal beneath the pier
keeping out of the limelight
till the tourists leave
~~ 5 ~~
glass jar of pickles—
summer captured in a quart
for the winter feast
~~ 6 ~~
clown on the corner—
no one pays him any mind
except on Sundays
~~ 7 ~~
wound round her forehead
a crimson strip of muslin
stained with her own blood
~~ 8 ~~
sound of glass breaking
in ten thousand Jewish shops—
Hitler’s thugs at work
~~ 9 ~~
burst of energy
just before the finish line
claiming victory
~~ 10 ~~
tumbleweeds rolling
down deserted avenues
heralds of despair
~~ 11 ~~
~~ 12 ~~

© 2015 by Magical Mystical Teacher
More Poetry Pantry #238
More The Sunday Whirl, Wordle 198


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~~ 1 ~~
safe from prying eyes
one straight line of a love note
hidden in a book
~~ 2 ~~
safe from prying eyes
the limit of her patience
with its fraying edge
~~ 3 ~~
safe from prying eyes
a lane ensconced in shadows
somewhere in south Wales
~~ 4 ~~
safe from prying ears
the sound of wasted water
dripping down a drain
~~ 5 ~~
safe from prying eyes
all the pornographic parts
snipped and snapped and tossed
~~ 6 ~~
safe from prying eyes
forgotten case of whisky
underneath the stairs
~~ 7 ~~
safe from prying eyes
the old farmhouse east of town
where black widows weave
~~ 8 ~~
safe from prying eyes
a single grain of sugar
underneath the bowl
~~ 9 ~~
safe from prying eyes
children hidden in the reeds
near the river’s bend
~~ 10 ~~
safe from prying eyes
the way that leads from bondage
through a parting sea
~~ 11 ~~
safe from prying ears
the sound of Gaza’s mothers
weeping for their dead

© 2014 by Magical Mystical Teacher
More Poetry Pantry #213
More The Sunday Whirl, Wordle 173
More Sunday Scribblings 2: “Safe from Prying Eyes”

This, That, and the Other

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~~ 1 ~~
potter’s field at dusk
weed husks rattle in the wind—
sound of passing spring
~~ 2 ~~
Did the Buddha laugh
as he lost himself in bliss
underneath the tree?
~~ 3 ~~
old men aspiring
to make one last pilgrimage—
voice of the donkey
~~ 4 ~~
From beneath a tree
Buddha rises with the sun—
sparrows call his name.
~~ 5 ~~
For personal use
you need one small point of light
to pierce the darkness.
~~ 6 ~~
too many late nights—
insatiable appetite
for silence and wine
~~ 7 ~~
Why is the prophet
flaunting flamboyant blue robes
this day of mourning?
~~ 8 ~~
in Jethro’s garden
jumbled among the roses
jewelweed in bloom
~~ 9 ~~
The potato fields
never disclose their secrets
to the corn and beans.
~~ 10 ~~
seductive side roads—
a major irritation
on the long journey
~~ 11 ~~
garlands of flowers
to signal weary pilgrims
that they have arrived
~~ 12 ~~
Easily they tire,
those who have no stamina,
on the narrow way.

© 2014 by Magical Mystical Teacher
More Poetry Pantry #212
More The Sunday Whirl, Wordle 172


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Pedestrians on a riverine path near Cache la Poudre River, Fort Collins, Colorado
crossing the footbridge
a sound that comes unbidden …
my wild beating heart*

deeper into the shadows
lured by a lone raven’s call

*Opening gambit by Laura R. Williams of Look for a Lovely Thing
Final two lines and photo © 2013 by Magical Mystical Teacher
More Carpe Diem Tan Renga: “Crossing the Footbridge”