Mort: the Poem

one might think 

an old monk would know 

how to die

the final Irish goodbye

a wake, a funeral

with a nice music mix

some photos... a yearbook

a life book of adventures

now past

books passed on to brother monks

O'Brien to brother Marc

Kerouac to brother Adam

poems scattered out to the world

soon 

one last beer

and one last poem  

by the fading fire

A Tired Monk Wake

The Count of Monte Cristo dead centre

providing lumbar support

A little leather Bible  - New Testament and Psalms

tucked in wedding jacket breast pocket

Catcher in the Rye held tight

Lord of the Rings near at hand

Dharma Bums resting on the pillow

a couple Discworld novels for the laughs

an ironic copy of Mort for sure

slips of Gary Snyder Poems scattered and loved

oh those Pine Tree Tops

as the lid is shutting

a mix of Uncanny X-Men, Wolverine, Hulk

and Spider-man spin in

Ratio Sky

quick calculation

ratio of concrete and sky

1 measure of sky

4 of concrete

the tired monk tonight

clad in hospital robes

surveys the limited sky

maybe one strand

of the setting sun

bouncing

off a hospital window

From Oct. 23rd 2025 

53

raucous night shift change

consistent  laughing

giggle stream

big wedding ring gasps

honeymoon plans applauded

flirty comments zing

more smiles more laughter

suggestions of "one quick drink?"

a night cap

for the night nurse

during one more loud burst

of nursing station gossip

one nurse slips out 

the back stairs and home

From Oct. 23 2025 

Elbow Lake 1 and 2

i)

no party boats today

lake is quiet and smooth

through the forest:

humming highway tires

rushing to the city

acoustic chords 

rolling off Ontario rocks

and ridges

ii)

dragonfly drones hover

over the lake

zipping out

snatching deerflies midair 

later mosquitoes 

as evening sets in 

From July 2025 - Notebook Poems

 

a boxing memory

old tired monk arms

throwing snappy jabs

face mashing crosses

thundering meat hooks

heavy bag sways hard

boxer bouncing

under thick oak boughs

slipping and rolling 

past every branch

From June 15th  2025 - Notebook poem

Two From June

i)

cool for June

pine fire pops

cold beer pops

frothy lager flows

kids laugh

yell (Marco Polo) 

ii)

sore stomach, throat, 

and head

a virus of night chills

cooked and steamed

in cedar sauna heat

From June 16th 2025  - Notebook Poem