the monk's clacker

by andrew lovatt

it would be usual to report
all's well or not,
but the thread between such binary traps
(which we succumb to endlessly & wheel-like)
is sometimes noted or heard twanging
like a chinese banjo,
or sometimes just by its silent presence

so what's worth the vowel or cnsnnt?
i be?
sometimes
yet am programmed to belief
that in the positive, i am
& in the blackness, am not
tis a hoax of some sort
never am i

was and will be are equal fallacies
never the string bow tuned
seen or heard or muted, known a little
like a kaleidoscope of colored atoms
we are
never quite complete,
ever before or aft the moment,
yet beliefing again
that one is at least a whole neurosis!

a swarming coagulate,
concretized thing with a ticking brain
and sensate problems
hurrying always,
hiding and running,
& then chasing things

yet some times
like the clack of the long wooden planks
the orthodox monks strike,
a sound ricochets through the mountains
to announce din-dins or matins
or the simple temple chime of now
now
now
gently, gently, yet swiftly
returning to something never seen,
always missed

[]

newbridge 21.x.03