Tuesday, June 4, 2019

a monk's heart

early morning bells
 up quick
feet on the floor
like any zen monk or marine

prayers, scripture readings
"devos" we used to call 'em
basement workouts
sweat glistening on my shorn head
  driveway hoops

whole pots of coffee
sitting or walking with my temple dogs
maybe just standing in the woods for a spell
strumming open chords,
cold beer

night time fires
Irish whiskey in a Scottish glass
moving through the Beatles catalogue
sometimes unbidden Johnny Cash tears

   sure there's pills
   tucked down deep in a bottom drawer

but I'm "doing the work"
speaking life
hopefully being excellent to each other
complaining less
even (thoughtfully) not giving a fuck

anything really
to keep my heart above water


  1. Anything....to keep my heart above water...."doing the work" in your humble monk way. Is there flooding where you are, Chris?

  2. i love this how you in your routines of life seek to stay above and and out of the shadow but the soul always knows it there...in the bottle in the bottom drawer...in the corners of the envelop we call self...bkm

  3. This poem makes me want to cry. This is exactly how we should be living. I love this so much:
    “anything really
    to keep my heart above water”


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