Thursday, November 17, 2011

the Tired Monk

knotted wrestler muscles
role under robes
ready to shoot
or knuckle punch

calloused fingers tap keys
squared off n'hard
from steel strings

tonsured head bows
cold and tight
in November's winds


there are skates to tie
Glenlivet to sip
dogs to walk
novices to teach
poems to write
songs to sing

all the blessed duties of the Tired Monk


  1. Ollie, this is poignant and telling. First, you speak of your physical self; second, you speak from the heart of what you DO with that physical self. The last four lines read like a mission statement, and that's a beautiful thing! Amy

  2. Ollie, I so love the Tired Monk and his loving and lovely life. But I cringe at the thought of the winter winds howling over his tonsured head. I do hope the Abbess has knitted you a thick woollen toque for our Canuck winters:)!

    p.s. You totally rock!

  3. And I hope you continue to do what you love to do ~

    Happy Friday ~

  4. Fuck yeah. There is Glenlivet to sip. There are poems to write.

  5. Knuckle Punch is all I needed to hear. The rest was all gravy. Love your stuff!

  6. Tired Monk is one busy dude! I love how you described playing the guitar... ;D Glad you wrote this; I feel like I know the Monk, more now!

  7. I enjoyed the fact that each stanza gave us a different version of you.

  8. Hey OO, so you like that kind of scotch? I gave a bottle to the guy that produced my first professional demo tape, must be a musician thing. Carry on Sir Monk!

  9. Don't know where this rich imagination comes from. I just keep enjoying the treasure I've found.

  10. No wonder you are a tired Monk!!! YOU are a busy guy....:-)

  11. So much to do for the monk, for all of us. Love this!

  12. skates to tie -> does that mean you are a hockey dad? i was a hockey mom who had to tie skates!!


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