Tired Monk Maxim 1

when sleep shuffling
down the halls of work, and business
always carry papers

Awake

hazy, daisy, dreams
nodding off, or not,
in meditative slumber
coffee cups roll,
cigarette droops from my lips
robes aflame
awake

Tired Monk Summer Night

awake, awoken,
reacting, instantly "up"
fires stoked, tea on, kettle whistles
wife yells, from above:
"come to bed"

A Night Duty

teens totter
tumble into country ditches
laugh, shake and yell
violent echoes off bricks and siding
beer bottles clink and smash

quick peaks out windows
"damn teens"
cursed behind locked doors

the tired monk wanders out
sweeps up the glass
thanks the teens:
a chance to do one's duty

Tired Monk Summer 1.0

the monk moves down the halls
yellow sony walkman
secured on the hip
a yellow blossom of sound
providing tips, insights of wisdom
from guru Downie

The Tired Monk and the Red Stratocaster

plug in
boom, growl, hum
adjust the gain
tweak the treble
choose the channel
barre chords, rhythmic n'solid
old power chords
up the neck
robe swirls
in circles as the windmills spin
finger ache grows
back and arms sore
the Red Stratocaster put back
on the stand
a free hand takes the tea
from the top of the amp
unplug

The Tired Monk and the Storm

tired monk stayed up late
a vigil
thunderstorms after midnight
violent warning on the radio
he could hear the rumbles
off to the west at two
a few sips of tea
the trees sway
booms up in the ravine
porch beams creak
by three the trees splitting,
smashing
as the storm hits
the monk settles, unmoving
asleep on his rice mat