Books
A Magic Cinquain
magic
i am magic
there’s nothing up my sleeve
pay no attention to that man
watch me
— corrine kenner
This is an American Cinquain, styled after Japanese haiku, with lines of 2, 4, 6, 8, and 2 syllables.
The image is a mashup of the Magician and the Ace of Wands.
Tarot Poetry: Strangely Bright Against the Tombstone
Strangely bright against the tombstone
Lightning strikes on high
A tower falls a trumpet sounds
But your empty veins are dry
To sleep! The night is born
Awake! The twilight dies
Be still! The monster hears you
But your empty veins are dry
Strangely bright against the tombstone
Dead fingers start to pry
Don’t look! Their lust is growing
But your empty veins are dry
The bear the dog the hunter
Creep slowly through the sky
Shadows reach to kiss the moonlight
But your empty veins are dry
Strangely bright against the tombstone
Lonely spirits moan and sigh
They long to touch and hold you
But your empty veins are dry
The vampire can see you
There’s one thing left to try
Angels flee as wounds reopen
But your empty veins are dry
Strangely bright against the tombstone
His crumpled form now lies
No one warned him of the danger
But your empty veins are dry
— Corrine Kenner
Illustrated with the Judgment card from the Waite-Smith tarot
Belladonna
Madame Sosostris, famous clairvoyante,
Had a bad cold, nevertheless
Is known to be the wisest woman in Europe,
With a wicked pack of cards. Here, said she,
Is your card, the drowned Phoenician Sailor,
(Those are pearls that were his eyes. Look!)
Here is Belladonna, the Lady of the Rocks,
The lady of situations.
Here is the man with three staves, and here the Wheel,
And here is the one-eyed merchant, and this card,
Which is blank, is something he carries on his back,
Which I am forbidden to see. I do not find
The Hanged Man. Fear death by water.
I see crowds of people, walking round in a ring.
Thank you. If you see dear Mrs. Equitone,
Tell her I bring the horoscope myself:
One must be so careful these days.
— From The Waste Land by T. S. Elliot