Sunday, July 11, 2021
TEN OLD MONK POEMS (23)
THEY'RE BOOKS
They're books. My books,
the old monk said.
I have to give them
to somebody.
Let me give them
to you. Think kindling.
Say thank you.
~
THIS SOLITUDE
This solitude,
the old monk thinks,
it's enough
for all day.
~
YOU ALWAYS WANT
You always want
what you say
to make sense
almost,
the old monk said.
Oops, I've told
too much.
~
IF YOU KEEP
If you keep
following yourself,
you'll walk
in circles,
the old monk says.
~
NO, NOT REALLY
No, not really.
It's never been
about money.
What I've wanted,
the old monk said,
you should know
by how I've lived.
~
SOMETIMES
Sometimes,
the old monk said,
I don't know
what I've said
until twelve
days later.
~
SOMETIMES WHEN I TALK
Sometimes when I talk,
the old monk said,
what you hear is
not wisdom but
wind in the pines.
~
WHAT THE WIND DOES
What the wind does,
it does
on the way down,
the old monk says.
On the way up,
it's flying.
~
IN THE MIRROR
In the mirror
my bullet eyes
look back at me.
I retreat,
the old monk says.
~
THERE ARE THINGS
There are things you know
you do not say.
There are things you say
you do not know,
the old monk said.
Both of these will
get you in trouble.
~
