i)
entropy chains swing
ice metal cold
under grey skies
ii)
a steady clink
no clear cling
of temple bells
iii)
paths, gates, trees all locked
chained ghost tight
novices climb
tear robes
flee
iv)
novices caught
prying locks
the tired monk joins
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some locks must be broken
come to think of it, i rarely lock things up. hmm, interesting.
ReplyDeleteThe locks of the mind brother. Bust those locks. Keep 'em coming OO.
ReplyDeleteI love allthese takes on chains and especially love the last line!
ReplyDeletei love the line "chained ghost thight". pure poetry, man!
ReplyDeleteI enjoyed the mysterious allure of this - thanks
ReplyDeleteWhat a surprise ending. That old monk is a prankster! Love the poem, I could feel the weight and coldness of those huge chains.
ReplyDeleteIt's very oppressive isn't it? Nothing a good metaphysical blow torch couldn't handle, though.
ReplyDeleteOld Ollie,
ReplyDeleteLoved the idea of the 'locks within and without'.
A well crafted piece....
Eileen
and some days children climb chains like ladders:) or at least, i hope my monkeys do.
ReplyDeletexo
erin
great poem. love the last line the best.
ReplyDeleteBrilliant poem. Love the last line
ReplyDeleteGreat Poem Ollie, I really enjoyed the subject matter, reminded me of my spiritual path in terms of being Catholic, all churches are locked now, no where to pray, but the small chapel, it seems some like to put God in a small place, but alas, he is within my heart. Peace and Stay Creative.
ReplyDelete