Friday, May 6, 2011

tired monk chains







i)

entropy chains swing
ice metal cold
under grey skies

ii)

metal on metal
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

12 comments:

  1. come to think of it, i rarely lock things up. hmm, interesting.

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  2. The locks of the mind brother. Bust those locks. Keep 'em coming OO.

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  3. I love allthese takes on chains and especially love the last line!

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  4. i love the line "chained ghost thight". pure poetry, man!

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  5. I enjoyed the mysterious allure of this - thanks

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  6. What a surprise ending. That old monk is a prankster! Love the poem, I could feel the weight and coldness of those huge chains.

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  7. It's very oppressive isn't it? Nothing a good metaphysical blow torch couldn't handle, though.

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  8. Old Ollie,

    Loved the idea of the 'locks within and without'.
    A well crafted piece....

    Eileen

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  9. and some days children climb chains like ladders:) or at least, i hope my monkeys do.

    xo
    erin

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  10. great poem. love the last line the best.

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  11. Great 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.

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