a question

you really the tired monk?

yeah
bone weary tired
beat burdened
but still ready
to serve

propped up
by temple dog walks
a few warm holy songs
maybe a slug of highland healing
bit of Drambuie warding
off this winter cough

yep
held up by these monk robes

...just

hallway lament

overheard hallway lament:
"ain't bin no fights...I wanna see a fight"

ha

they'd been in the wrong hall
missed the big lumbering guy
tossing dumb looping
shoulder smacking haymakers
little fella quick ducking
and dishing out feisty jabs

yeah

everybody is looking for fights
'til the blood is a hot stream
a steady rivulet
misting with every breath

later - they just desire
busted knuckle ice.

scattered bits n'fragments

i)

tired
deep temple dog tired
tired of wars
...words
n' wars on words

tired of fighting
pushing on the last few
fading monks
to move
just move

ii)

coffee pot
bottom burned black
       needs scrubbing
morning of wet monk
sleeves

iii)

energy drink cans
scattered up the ditches
or squashed flat
and paved over
in the pre-frost rush

iii)

this violin
is a fiddle in these hands
sawing  - mingling
with Americana chords
lifting n'healing
yer broken heart


 -  Tired Monk notebook poems

fall

autumn angled sun beams
cutting through tinted leaves
warm orange light

temple dog runs up the slough
disappears down in the ditch
slicking low in the mud
following a scent

reach down...feeling around
under the step stash
sweet bourbon
wards off the fall air

a glimpse

a light year
glimpse of Orion
tucked inside
a sweep of morning clouds
and swaying white pine boughs

street prayer fragment

these streets are full of
anti-heroes
rich only in stories

may these streets fill
with good salty saints

observations while walking the temple dog

i)

heats breaking
...soon
one more steam-room day
then a whip of cold
north airs settles in

ii)

more fireflies
than fires these nights
vacant campfire rings

iii)

dusk bat flits above
cleaning up
end of summer mosquitoes