the lost poems of 2012

i)

a few poems linger

like

a wisp of smoke
in the hemlock trees

ii)

an unlikely sonnet
lodged behind the shed
covered in drifting snow

iii)

turn the dials
tweak the reverb
one more poem
rattles in that old amp

Tired Monk's Christmas

temple dog snores
a low rumble from the hall
even the temple cat sleeps
bathed in Christmas lights

tired monk blues

thin disguise
beat n'dirty trucker cap
old lumberman's coat
30 or so extra
Tuckish pounds
rock steady flat top

no give away robes
just the Birks reveal
the tired monk





Sorta kinda by request.  Novice Emmett and the Tired Monk play a bit of blues.

Rock n'Roll Saints

no Christmas tunes,
no - not even yet
Maybe a few sacred choruses
from brother Cash
on the cusp of the holy day

For now
this old monk works
rockin' the sweet humbucker reverb
snow gets stack high
frozen ice chips fly

thanks to

Neil, Jimmy, Gord, Fred, Ryan, Jimi, Eddie, Dave, Jeff, Matt, Joel, John, and all the rest of the Saints of Rock n'Roll