Archive for the Tarot Poems Category

VIII of Cups

Posted in My Poems, Tarot Poems with tags , , , on October 17, 2017 by James Munro

You have a wife?
Children, maybe? A home? A job?
Yet like a summer lunatic
one night in June
you turn your back on love
and cross the Mountains of the Moon
in search of something lacking in your life.

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VIII of Swords

Posted in Esoterica, My Poems, Tarot Poems with tags , on February 25, 2017 by James Munro

It doesn’t have to be this way.
Bound, blindfolded
and penned in by the hard,
the phallic and metallic.
You don’t have to kneel.
You don’t have to obey.

The ground, the earth, is soft beneath
your bare feet. Feel it.
Where water flows and flowers grow
you, too, can go and flourish and be free.
Things don’t have to be this way.

Or is that, perhaps, the sea?
Is the tide on the turn, about to sweep in, swirling
about your legs, your waist, your breast,
your face, and you a virgin, a sacrifice
to the Stoor Worm, the great sea serpent?
Wriggle out of those bonds and run!
You don’t have to do what they say!

Or are you “an adulteress”,
condemned to pay for some man’s “sin”?
Wriggle, quick! Wiggle out of
that ugly brown robe, and run –
or swim! – be a mermaid! – but
do something! – and be free!

You don’t have to stay.
It doesn’t have to be this way.

III of CUPS

Posted in My Poems, Tarot Poems with tags , on February 18, 2017 by James Munro

3cups-tnl

Raise the cup on the barren hills,
Daughters of Bacchus! Drink your fill,
three generations dancing as one
beneath the moon, beneath the sun.

Soon, too soon, tomorrow will come
and descent to the city and homes and men
and a life of barren propriety.

IX of Pentacles

Posted in My Poems, Tarot Poems with tags , on January 10, 2016 by James Munro

9Pentacles

The chatterers used to say your cup
was all but empty, you would never amount to anything.
You didn’t see it that way.

Now they would say of your garden:
Where are the big shops,
the clubs, the theatres? Get a life!

But you have fulfilled your dreams,
no longer feel the need for chatter and novelty.
Your life is half full. The half that counts.

Justice

Posted in My Poems, Tarot Poems with tags , on December 1, 2015 by James Munro

XI - Justice

Looks good. But what is it?
An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth?
A life for a life? Jesus said ‘No’ to that,
‘that’s part of our brutal past,’
and he spoke the truth,
but was he perhaps

a Fool in some ways,
a Fool with his head in the clouds,
talking about what should be
rather than what is?

Sounds good, too. Half the cake
for little Johnny, half for Jane.
One slap for one slap,
two slaps for two. But that way
they will never learn
that life is full of pain
and justice a fairy tale.

A fairy tale,
like Larry the Lamb and Peter Pig
in little Johnny’s book.
Peter Porker and the Larry the Lamb
Chop more like.

Justice? … In
another life perhaps.

In another universe.

KNIGHT of SWORDS

Posted in My Poems, Tarot Poems with tags , on October 17, 2015 by James Munro

KnightSwords
Grim, the prospect.
No love, no loyalty, left,
no present without strings attached.

But somewhere in the pack
“a verray, parfit, gentil knight”
rides out, a Fool on horseback,
a Fool trained in the arts of war
and chivalry. If anyone
can build Jerusalem in England’s
once green and pleasant land, it is him.
Or her.

II of PENTACLES

Posted in My Poems, Tarot Poems on October 6, 2015 by James Munro

2Pentacles

Like the sea
my soul is in turmoil,
yet I keep dancing,
prancing around on this earth.

I cannot break free,
cannot throw off even one,
let alone both.

The King and Queen of Wands

Posted in My Poems, Tarot Poems with tags , , on September 22, 2015 by James Munro

King of Wands

The Lion King,
humane and wise.
Old Soul;
Sun King in the Land of Faerie.

His only failing?
Being oblivious
to petty jealousies,
smiling lies
and infidelities.

Overconfidence:
Arthur’s bane.

Queen of Wands

If the King is Arthur,
this is Guinevere, Sun Queen,
femme fatale.

She walks by and flowers open,
sunflowers follow her
with their great black and yellow eye.

Once seen
never forgotten:
yours until you die.

That red hair.
That black familiar.

IV of SWORDS

Posted in My Poems, Tarot Poems with tags , on September 12, 2015 by James Munro

4Swords

In silence think on death. And life.
Is that his wife and child pictured in
the window? 
Did he do what he came to do?
Did they?

And you. Have you done, are you doing,
what you 
came to do? Soon you too
will be dust, a memory, 
an inspiration to others.

Or an awful warning.

Page of Swords

Posted in My Poems, Tarot Poems with tags , on September 8, 2015 by James Munro

Page Swords tnl

Winter is coming.
The winds are blowing.
The swallows are gone.

I cannot be staying
with the grey goose going,
and the wild swan.

The Hermit

Posted in My Poems, Tarot Poems with tags , on September 5, 2015 by James Munro

IX - The Hermit

Perhaps he is setting out in the dark
for an unknown land,
following his heart, it may be,
following the wild wind,
but going –
going where the road goes.

Or perhaps he has lost that spark.
His heart, too, has grown old,
and all he can do now is cling to what he has,
what he knows.

Or perhaps, undecided,
he simply stood still in the snow
and froze.

Ace of Pentacles

Posted in My Poems, Tarot Poems with tags , on September 3, 2015 by James Munro

AcePentacles

Time to leave the garden,
waiting for the sun to rise,
the moon to rise,
spring to come, summer, autumn,
winter, frost, snow …
spring again.
Time to go.

Your mountains climbed,
that same path will bring you  
back into the garden
undefiled.

Queen of Cups

Posted in My Poems, Tarot Poems with tags , on September 2, 2015 by James Munro

Queen of Cups

The perfect wife,
perfect lover, perfect mother,
yet always dreaming of the sea,
always longing to be free.

Was she a mermaid in another life?

The Lovers

Posted in My Poems, Tarot Poems with tags , on September 1, 2015 by James Munro

VI - The Lovers

Two young people
each to each unknown, but wishing.

Can they reach each other?
They are so different. And can they
survive the reaching?

Raphael, knowing he cannot hold them back,
raises his wings to protect,
his hands in blessing …

Two young people
meet and touch and fall in love
and now go out to face the world alone.

The Magician

Posted in My Poems, Tarot Poems with tags , , on March 20, 2015 by James Munro

I - The Magician

Is he
a wild birth
full of tricks and lies
and whatever it takes to survive,
a joker, a conjurer,
the speed of the hand and the spiel
defeating the eye?

Or is he
an old soul, a real magician,
a wizard
who juggles the elements
mixing Fire and Water,
making the Earth one with the Sky?

© James Munro

VII of Pentacles

Posted in My Poems, Tarot Poems with tags , , on February 4, 2015 by James Munro

7Pentacles tnl

What did it take
to grow this tree
so laden with fruit
in a barren land?
What did it take?

What did you make
out of growing this tree
so laden with fruit
in a barren land?
How much did you make?

Was it worth all you gave
to grow this tree
so laden with fruit
in a barren land?
Was it worth all you gave?

II of Swords

Posted in My Poems, Tarot Poems with tags , , on December 12, 2014 by James Munro

2 Swords

Take it off.
You cannot navigate
these troubled waters,
know the way to go,
with a blindfold on.

You think the Moon will show you?
The fickle Moon will only show
the way you should have gone.

You must uncross your arms,
lay down one sword,
prepare yourself to live, to fight,
to face the coming day.

© James Munro

Page of Cups

Posted in My Poems, Tarot Poems with tags , , on November 8, 2014 by James Munro

Page of Cups

What are you telling me, little fish,
that someone gave as a present to me?

Throw me back and I’ll be with you
whenever you sail upon the sea.

Foolish promises, little fish.

Nobody stands with his back to the sea
save those who drowned in a former life,
those who fear and abhor the sea.

Would you really do this thing for me?
Would you, could you, little fish?

Throw me back and my sisters three
will come to you wherever you be,
when your ship falls apart and the sailors drown,
and carry you safe through the raging sea.

© James Munro

X of WANDS

Posted in My Poems, Tarot Poems with tags , , on October 8, 2014 by James Munro

10 of Wands

For just one hour each day, one day each week,
lay down your burden, go apart and pray.
For just one hour, seek the Atman – call it what you may –
your Self, the Pearl within the mortal clay.

© James Munro

The High Priestess

Posted in My Poems, Tarot Poems with tags , on August 30, 2014 by James Munro

II - The High Priestess

Between the pillars and the veil
we may glimpse the other side
.

But the holy Priestess pale
seems guard, not guide! –

a priestess made of marble cold –
she will never stand aside
not though it be for the Pope himself
in all his pride!

She is not made of marble cold
but she may only stand aside
for the coming of the King
and the King’s bride.

© James Munro