Thursday, September 30, 2021

Scattered Wind Blown Poems


evil spilling down
through a sieve of fools
splattering toxic nonsense

respond with better words, blessing, 
midnight prayers, truth steeped in love. 


poet laureate's laurels
scattered spinning in the wind
down the alley
past the overflowing dumpster
and open kitchen doors


not much call these days 
for a claw hammer banjo master
folk songs under fall maple trees


tobacco, or an offering tug
from a plastic whiskey bottle
a song, a poem
all medicine  

Tuesday, September 28, 2021

I'm a Human Being

up early
pre-dawn dog walk past the Mission
fellow pushing a cart stops me:
"I'm a human being...
and a teacher you know."
He looked up into the sky, 
then back to me.
"Got a word for you... your homework:
find joy."
I handed him some money - 
he pushed it back with both hands.
"Give that to the next saint you meet;
there's one just up the street."

He gave his cart a big inertia breaking push
turned the corner singing.

Wednesday, June 16, 2021


I'm with Holden
ready to head north
a solitary cabin
front door held open
by an acoustic guitar 
for a cooling lake breeze

slow beer buzz...all day
sitting on the deck
oaks and white pines above

on darker days
I think of going further
home to Ireland, maybe Scotland
out far on a point
rugged sea washed
small lonely monk island

Tuesday, June 8, 2021


 some paths are worn
 deep rutted circles
 the same ground pounded
 deep and hard sun baked

some paths are blocked
 black chainlinks barring
 forest walks, rambling dog
 wandering adventures

some paths are crooked
 all roots, stumbling rocks 
 soft sand shifting underfoot
 or swampy mires

some paths are straightened
 by prayers, acknowledgement,
 songs, meditation, kindness
 unconditional hospitality. 

Saint John

 John knows

about scarred up souls,
dodging demons, and lying
about being okay
he's so damn good
at sadness. 
evidence in every song,
every poem, every chord.

bless you brother monk

Wednesday, June 2, 2021


been a monk for just over 10 years
decade of tonsures and robes

up truck driver early
brewing tea
...and french press coarse grind coffee

sweeping, praying...yeah I'm praying right now.
working through daily duties
tending the temple
walking the dogs
playing guitar in the garden
writing/reading sacred poems

shooting hoops in the driveway
reverse layups - robes flying
ignoring the long looks 
as the neighbours drive by


Wednesday, May 26, 2021


turns out every prayer
is answered
yes - no - later
no quick conduit to God
even monks have to wait

lately I've rounded out
and aged into the time
of seeing old prayers answered
yeah - dusty  - almost forgotten,
but answered all the same

is the miracle