He was a Zen miscreant
His perspective all wrong
His actions nonsensical
He stuffed ethereal thoughts in burlap bags
and tossed them off bridges
He trapped effervescent hopes in bottlenecked jars
and put them up for the winter
His turgid insolence
stymied the other Monks
created a demented demarcation
that even the most enlightened meditation could not erase
He was a walking koan
He was the sound of one hand clapping.
submitted for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, A Word With Laurie (Review)
in which we are asked to compose a poem with a list of 12 random words (in bold)
Sounds like quite a character... love the title!
I ADORE this poem and the recalcitrant monk........very witty!
the sound of one hand clapping...hehe...if it jacked with the other monks he cant be all bad you know...we all find our own road to enlightenment...
I love this! Kudos!
I want to be a zen miscreant!
I love that last line..."he was the sound of one hand clapping," such a cool thought. Great lines throughout-fun to read, thank you!
I'm with Mama Zen!
life and zen feel like an odd couple
it seems like the dream and the reality?
this made me smile! i love your use of the twelve words! especially love the ending!
Happy New Year!
Oh...you make me want to hang out with him! :)
(LOVE those pencil mice in your header!)
Have a creative day, luv!
I adore this poem! Line after line, I wanted to hug the monk, and take something of his spirit home with me.
Delightfully done, Lolamouse. Like Kerry, I'd love to meet this dear old miscreant.
Fantastic how you blended the prompts and managed such characterization with random words. I like Brian's comment about how we all find our own road to enlightenment. Thanks so much for joining us!
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