the demon returns

the demon crept back
sneaking up
past the crossroads

not sneaky enough
to fool
this tired monk

warnings swirl
sulfur laden lies
dark rumours
of his approach

I tuck
a bit deeper
pulled my hood down
slip by quick
shutter the temple doors

Redemption 7 - a tired monk poem

a tired monk

 one of the last

sweeping out

empty cells

spinning dust

soft songs

hummed 

in lonesome halls

Redemption 6

i)

fists are flying
darting out
over smoke puffs
and fury

gym teacher whistle
slices through the taunts

  crowd scatters

hides


ii)

alone
post fight rest
writing
bleeding hand poems

Redemption 5

fingers are stinging
just keep singing 'em out loud
boot stomping
body shaking
bric a brac knick knacks
falling from shelves
I'm a concert in this house

Redemption 4

stoke the fire
wait
for slow steady coals

old reliable
cast iron pan
ready for fresh
thick bacon strips
double smoked

home baked bread
browned hot
on round rocks
mix in
river cooled beers
a most hearty lunch


tuck the pan
back up the tree
    for next time