Our Daily Bread
Her work took her love away.
Now she feeds pigeons
The bread my heart asked for.
Sign Your Name
Today, my name
Was etched into steel
But you tell me
This is not how it feels.
I say there is no
No “F” in friend,
No “U” in unaware.
Only some random drugs that say
Goodbye, world.
If only.
The Monk
When I look in the mirror,
I see who I want to be,
That orange robed,
Disciplined, selfless dude
Who is kind, fun, at ease,
Who is focused purely
On you.
Not the distracted,
Grumpy old man,
Looking at Facebook,
And making you wonder what
You did wrong.
He’s so difficult to please.
No, that isn’t me.
Not the one who needs
To lose weight
Before it’s too late.
And get diabetes
Or be bedridden by stroke
From the stress of it all.
I’m not that guy.
Not today.
I’m the one with no plans,
Happy as I am.
Don’t feel sorry
For this old monk
‘Cause today,
I’m throwing the mirror away
And taking the day off
To meditate.
