Monday, October 11, 2010


                                                               Now I take my turn
                                                               again on the Wheel of Fate
                                                               which those same monkeys
                                                               still manipulate.

                                                              Can they see?
                                                              Can they hear?
                                                              Can they?

                                                              They can and

                                                              Will make this trip
                                                              hang for me,
                                                              upside down
                                                              on the tree
                                                              where the barker cries
                                                              "Come see the side-show man!"

                                                              And every go round
                                                              I hear the crowd cry
                                                              "Do it again,
                                                              Mr. Magician, with
                                                              the deck in your hand.

                                                              Mr. Magician,
                                                              who control more
                                                              than the elements.
                                                              count me four.

                                                              Four corners
                                                              Four turns
                                                              Four humors
                                                              Four cards

                                                              Shuffle through the possibilities
                                                              turn the trick for me.

                                                              Will it work?
                                                              Will I heal?
                                                              Will I learn?
                                                              Will I see?

                                                              Mr. Magician man,
                                                              pour the wine
                                                              from cup to cup.
                                                              Pour the water into wine.
                                                              Slice the bread
                                                              with your gilded sword,
                                                              suspend your staff
                                                              above the door.

                                                              Let no monkeys imitate.
                                                              Take all the coins
                                                              from dead men's eyes
                                                              pocket them in your disguise.

                                                              Then all I see
                                                              are charmed displays;
                                                              Mr. Magician forcing
                                                              four winds four ways.

                                                              Out rich fire!
                                                              Out cold rain!
                                                              Out thick air!
                                                              Gone damp clay!

                                                              A wave of your hand,
                                                              a hocus-pocus shout
                                                              a chorus of a hymn:
                                                              Then they all reappear
                                                              in a porcelain ring.

                                                              There seems no end
                                                              to this spinning,
                                                              and no beginning as I fall.
                                                              Only constant
                                                              turnings and windings
                                                              of the ball.

                                                              © Gay Reiser Cannon All Rights Reserved


  1. Gay, your post kept me 'spellbound'...even minutes AFTER I had finished reading--so what did I do? Read it again!

    AND...bonus! Wondering what I've learned today--nothing?--and then up pops this word from you 'prestidigitation'. And so I DID receive the opportunity!

    When one writes as consistently well as you, the problem arises that we expect each time a winning post. You have not disappointed!

    LIKE it!
    Steve E

  2. you brought some magic to one shot this week..and i agree with steve - you have not disappointed!

  3. There was magic in your words, too. Excellent.

  4. Agree with all of the comments above..spellbinding!

  5. A magical ride of lyrical legerdemain... "Out rich fire / Out cold rain / Out thick air / Gone damp clay" Spellbinding lines throughout the poem.

  6. Love, love that pic. Magical One Shot.

  7. steve nailed had me at monkeys and then it got magical...wicked word play...nice one shot!

  8. I was curious whether the thread of religious symbolism was a) intentional and b) important. Lines like "the water into wine" and "A chorus of a hymn" and "Slice the bread" left me wondering who the Magician might really be, or whether I was just imagining things.

  9. Ben..not imagining; the symbolism was purposeful. The poem was meant to layer several "religious" sets. The tribal perhaps celtic symbols, overlaid with tarot allusions and finishing with a Christian overlay as though religious thought evolves in what may seem a natural way.

  10. beautifully woven, no beginnings as i fall...

  11. nice one shot the last stanza with the constant turning and spinning of this ball....bkm

  12. I really liked it, but think that it is slightly uneven. The first stanza is really strong, as are the third and fourth. I especially like the uneven rhyming, it adds gravitas.

  13. Magician of words indeed. Love and Light, Sender

  14. This is hauntingly mindful.

    A wonderful poem that wraps itself around the reader.


    Lady Nyo

  15. Interesting One Shot, Beachanny.

    And I love your new header photo!

  16. Loved this!!! Now if Mr. Magician can send some magic this way I'd be in my glory!!!!! =D ~ Very well written, much enjoyed...and a twinkle of magic in a smile reading! ~April :)

  17. A fantastical submission to One Shot! Loved it--very fun the whole way through, and the picture was splendid as well.

  18. "take all the coins
    from dead men's eyes
    Pocket them
    in your disguise"........amazing writing.
    Great One Shot.

  19. lovely flow of words - i think i am under your spell!
    Thanks for teasing my imagination.

  20. Sending all the magic I can muster to all my readers! Thanks for coming by and commenting. It was one of those all in one piece kind of works after I came up with the concept. Wish they were all that easy. I have 6 right now I'm struggling with.

  21. Invite you to try the prompts at Writer's Island

  22. this was lovely, Gay..! the upside down part sort of got me thinking of an Indian fairytale of sorts! :D good one shot!

    My One Shot Poem - Morning Mist

  23. There seems no end
    To this spinning
    And no beginning as I fall
    Just these constant
    Turnings and windings
    Of the ball.

    magical indeed.

  24. Let no monkeys imitate
    Take all the coins
    From dead men's eyes
    Pocket them in your disguise


    Dear Gay,

    I don't normally put a link to a comment but here is my magician: