I can almost hear the
haunting monastic chants
and solemn songs, lost
between the rippling currents
of the Hudson River.
The Cloisters stand, silent
upon a nearby hill
stone walls and ancient towers
are stoic and timeless
carrying secrets of the past
covering forgotten sins.
Echos of voices, Ave Maria and rosaries
the fervent signs of the cross
commune amongst sacred writings
silent prayers and penitent pleas.
The tower bells clang loudly
ringing in the hours
as time slips over the horizon
and well cared for gardens.
I linger within these hallowed halls
aching to listen to those voices
from long ago
disciplined, dedicated, devoted men
who knelt to worship
God Most High, Eternal.
Categories:
monastic, god, places,
Form: Free verse
Pollution and overcrowding
the Earth's limit is near,
if there is to be no solution
just take me far from here.
Take me to the lakes
of that ancient monastic city,
to the Hills of Glendalough
to live in peace, to live in pity.
Take me to the Lakes
hidden beneath majestic fog,
away from crowds cloaked in sickness
away from cities masked in smog.
Take me to the Lakes
where flora and fauna still survive,
where wildly wildflowers grow
where nature still thrives.
Take me to the Lakes
to breathe the clean summer air,
to bathe in glacial pools of blue
and spend my days without a care.
Take me to the Lakes
to sleep under the stars,
on dandelions i'll dream
is there really life on Mars?
Categories:
monastic, beauty, planet, universe,
Form: Free verse
The life of a worker
I'm just a worker, nothing else
Life doesn't wait
Nobody needs me, a woman never waits
Life is distance for me
I work every day, I do my job, I know that I am useful
I don't have a Jaguar, I don't have a Rolls Royce
I'm poor
I don't need a woman
I'm just a worker
I'm working
I'm a cog
I'm working
I'm useful
What is life?
What?
I do not know
I live my life
I don't have a wife
I don't have to anymore
There is photography and poetry
These are the new lives
Children
That's how clean life is
Keep life clean
Let the man's life be pure
Be a virgin
Let the noble male souls live without a woman
Men shall not be defiled
Let the whole world be a global male monastic order
May the world flourish and radiate male purity!
Categories:
monastic, life,
Form: Free verse
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
To a dog, an empty hand's cause
even a well-intentioned one
flinches an involuntary jaw..
your neighbor's just the same.
Have you grown leery the open palm?
wearied away as your brother's keeper.
Not responsible to his good name
nor good will as guarded trustee
over your godchildren.
No blame to you, good sir
or madam-
No right or wrong
by royal decree
monastic or fiduciary..
nor heavy handed scepter
to wield
relinquished or relished
as monarchal beneficiary.
Just the same, I
in fealty or name
skeptically question
right from wrong..
guilty as charged
all the day long.
Often what I read and I see,
some people scare me
put in my brother's shoes
I probably would too.
Categories:
monastic, brother, people, spiritual,
Form: Rhyme
Tradition.
Cast aside by noise
As worldy attention
Tears and cloys
Permission.
For generous space
To return to stare
Full into the face
Decision.
To walk a monastic way
Brief encounter
At the start of the day
Listen.
To the space in-between
Where God himself
Chose to intervene
Condition.
The soul and heart
Through stillness
Let the healing start
Jinjagoliath
3rd September 2023
(In memory of Lesley Sutton)
Categories:
monastic, christian, solitude, uplifting,
Form: Rhyme
Opulent solitude,
how rich it becomes
alone in one’s shadow,
times riches in sum
To revel monastic
o’er sultans and earls,
whose joyous reflection
—your diamonds and pearls
(Dreamsleep: November, 2021)
Categories:
monastic, self,
Form: Rhyme
Time is of the essence, when I get my hair cut,
Impatiently waiting in turn, gives me dandruff,
Barber’s damn slow, chatting, making small talk
Oh hurry up man, I’m in need of a new Mohawk
Three more ahead of me, staring at the walls,
At least two of them, already suspiciously bald
But the other one, he has me seriously scared
Wears a big long coat, his hairy feet laid bare
At last it’s my turn, barber asks what’ll it be
A fantastic punk style, nice and spiky suits me
So off he goes, razors and scissors a blazing
Going cold on top, I’m sure I feel him shaving
Ok we’re all done, that’ll be twenty five bucks
I look in the mirror, to see a scalped Friar Tuck
What the hell I yell, that’s nothing like a punk
Oh dear thought you said, a monastic monk
I’m a holy show now, of that you can be sure
All I require is a robe, go with my new tonsure
By
David Kavanagh
Categories:
monastic, christian, hair, humorous,
Form: Rhyme
When we Shall Be New
By David J Walker
Of this monastic island earth
we share in the birth of each
evolution of tomorrow
embracing the diverse versions
of the same things
we have known all along
We came
We learned
We left
And in the coming
Mentored dawn
We shall be new
We will be gone
Categories:
monastic, spiritual,
Form: Free verse
FATE
At three and eighty years I know
that I will live another day
but memories have lessened now
my thoughts and dreams have gone astray
my gaiety and ambiance
have faded to an austere scene
to look upon my quaint abode
there are no longer thoughts to glean
to be monastic is my life
a priest like future is the theme
I will not deign to offer prayers
I lost my dreams and lost my wife
as death is near I will resign
to be interred eternally
again I’ll see my dearest one
again our love will realign
Ralph Sergi©
May 6, 2020
Categories:
monastic, fate,
Form: Rhyme
A legendary tale of love I know
about two very brilliant people who
were soul mates living centuries ago.
They shared much hardship but their love stayed true.
Truth seeker Heloise sought Abelard.
Great teacher of philosophy was he.
But people’s thinking in that time was marred.
Then Heloise got pregnant, secretly
the couple wed, but Heloise was forced
to give her baby up, which broke her heart.
When Abelard was maimed; both were coerced
into monastic lives and lived apart.
Found letters prove their love could never die.
Together in a tomb in France they lie!
March 6, 2020
for Chantelle Anne Cooke's "Your Favorite Legend" Poetry Contest
I guess it's not 100% certain that they are together in that tomb because their remains got moved around. For sure, they are together in the afterlife!
Categories:
monastic, love,
Form: Sonnet
My parcel of quietude becomes yours
while we listen to the same monastic silence,
gazing at clouds alone and together
until we rest lovingly inside our gentle, holy world.
..............
Gregory R. Barden's Liberum Divisa Contest
Posted 05/04/2019
......................
Excerpt from ' Anything Goes On A Sunday '
Originally written 12/29/2016
Categories:
monastic, silence, together,
Form: Free verse
. for public domain
For pages worth a dog's ear,
a crumpled work of lace,
we search for golden phrases,
mark their special place.
We stifle in library tiers,
churlish book stores,
coveting their treasures,
mining their aisles,
enduring for gleaming words,
to redeem our souls.
Monastic cells our Eden,
we monks who scour scrolls.
Categories:
monastic, poets,
Form: Free verse
As I claim my own parcel of solitude
from yesterday's banging boom,
I see heaven expanding through you
in me: fireflies glow rare as Sunday’s bliss,
never mind if there is a call for patience
when holy hours rise upon the lines of your mouth;
resting on the ledge of a private oasis.
This I cannot enter... the night curfew drifts
gently and quietly yet full of love's spaces;
O the hush of your mouth tender as harp's rhythm
I want to kiss.
My parcel of quietude becomes yours
while we listen to the same monastic silence,
gazing at clouds alone and together
until we rest lovingly inside our gentle, holy world.
Into near midnight with eyes closed, we slumber and then...
John Hamilton's Your Best Free Verse Love Poem--2
2/19/2017
Categories:
monastic, day, peace, silence,
Form: Free verse
Many believe love a fantasy to be;The greater fantasy believing themselves to love.
Eros irritates me. For agape I hope.
Perhaps a monastic I should be and wear the cowl, sparring my soul from sorrow, though deep within I hold a heart full of love which I hide for fear of heartlessness from this foul realm , filled with insincerity and hypocrisy
Categories:
monastic, love,
Form: Prose Poetry
Genuine love is loveless
Whereof the heart is beclouded
With mystic, monastic and metaphysical aura
Only minds as deep as the Congo river can contain.
'Tis when fair love subsist
That spiritual, ethical and philosophical
Transcend all mundane forms and allures
That are subject to the acid test of time and change.
'Tis to disdain honeycombs
To find relish in bitter herbs is rare
And have wants and longings lay in catacombs
Beside the sweet amusing bed of roses it is but to dare.
'Tis to know what it is
Love dwells in spirit and not physique
And its form is literal but not imaginative
And its essence not naive but rather philosophical!
Categories:
monastic, emotions, feelings, heart, inspiration,
Form: Verse
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