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In the Riverbed


In the riverbed I listened while the fishes swam and spoke;
The tales that they were weaving made me want to have a smoke
Of something much more potent than a Winston or Pall Mall,
But the room beneath the water had no butler and no bell.
Thus I could not call for hashish, so I tried to calm myself
By burning fragrant incense that I found upon a shelf.
The smoke set me to dreaming, and my arms fell limp at last,
I felt empty as a daydream from my mother’s distant past.
I fear you won’t believe me, nor the story that I tell,
So here’s the final word, my friends: I bid you all farewell.

 
  
Poem © 2019 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More Sunday’s Whirligig #230
 
More Poetry Pantry #492 at Poets United

First Days

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~~ 1 ~~
 
first days of the year—
something that the neighbor heard
still troubling her dreams
 
~~ 2 ~~
 
first days of the year—
weaving infidelity
into her life’s tale
 
~~ 3 ~~
 
first days of the year—
a hidden greenness rising
in the oak branches
 
~~ 4 ~~
 
first day of the year—
for her missing firstborn son
unstoppable tears
 
~~ 5 ~~
 
first day of the year—
wounded bird on the sidewalk
lifting its left wing
 
~~ 6 ~~
 
first days of the year—
in the even-numbered hours,
not the odd, a song
 
~~ 7 ~~
 
first days of the year—
remembering mosquitoes
and her bitten hands
 
~~ 8 ~~
 
first days of the year—
picking at the bullet wound
from six weeks ago
 
~~ 9 ~~
 
first days of the year—
playing more digital games
to forget her pain
 
~~ 10 ~~
 
first day of the year—
a bow to the fat snowflakes
settling on my sleeve

 
Haiku © 2016 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More Poetry Pantry #285
 
More Sunday’s Whirligig #41