Poems by Brother Ollie: the Tired Monk
This is perfect. I love it! Rattling like a lost pick - good one! My sister is just back from Newfoundland where she says all men have sheds where they go to drink and play guitar. Does the Tired Monk have a shed, Ollie?
I have a few stuck poems - I think they're rattling around in a saucepan under the cupboard.
Shake it, maybe, like a maraca!
ha. i know that sounds...and hey as long as its still making music and not stuck dead and lifeless you are fine...smiles.
I relate to this - wonderfully expressed!
I have known some of those bouncing and skittering poems as well. Smiles.
was nice to appreciate the music of your words again...smiles. happy sunday
It isn't always often or easily done, that very few words can convey so much. You have acheived that here. I can see and hear your poem.
Some poems are like that! Then they show up unexpectedly --I've even found a few stuck in the washing machine! Great poem!Wherein The Muse's Vehicle Goes Into the Shop for Repairs
this happens to me with words all the time... I often blame it on MS, but you know, sometimes thoughts, poems, words, just slip and go plink because that is where they are going.
short, sweet and relate-able
we feel thus stuck at times.but the good this is, that the phase passes.and the first creation that comes after this unwanted break, brings sheer relief.
But what a place to be stuck.
Oh I know the feeling--let it stay and plink along for a while--it'll make its way out--smiles to you!
I love this. It is such a tangible piece!
I hate when the pick gets stuck in there and no matter how much shaking you do, it won't come out. Keep a few spares for moments like these I guess??
It has a way of righting itself. It'll find its way out eventually! Nicely Brother Ollie!Hank
Brilliant imagery. Loved this.
Thanks for helping with the development of Olsonomics.