This version
is tacitly the best.
I am in the morning sun
when the artist arrives.
My pair of pajamas
sleep in frozen still patterns.
I turn my face oriental with my poems.
Cherry blossoms, I turn inside out
light pink to white, brevity, for a short
time then walk alone, then die.
I hear the sound of notes in my ears
approaching on silent footprints.
I enter the monastic life; abandon untimely
meals, vulgar songs, and dance, mime statuette
toss garlands, toss racy clothing,
abstain skunk of perfumes abstain no visitors.
I leave all sinful shadows behind.
But I am of this world, not out of this world.
I swear way too much and pray too little.
The way of Zen and Jesus is a boxing match.
Crack and smack a curse—
twigs break silence.
Copyright © 2024 Michael Lee Johnson
All Rights Reserved
This poem first appeared here. Enjoy this reading of a version of the poem on YouTube.
Michael Lee Johnson lived ten years in Canada during the Vietnam era. Today he is a poet in the greater Chicagoland area, IL. He has 300 plus YouTube poetry videos. Michael Lee Johnson is an internationally published poet in 45 countries, a song lyricist, has several published poetry books, has been nominated for 7 Pushcart Prize awards, and 6 Best of the Net nominations. He is editor-in-chief of 3 poetry anthologies, all available on Amazon, and has several poetry books and chapbooks. He has over 453 published poems. Michael is the administrator of 6 Facebook Poetry groups. Member Illinois State Poetry Society: http://www.illinoispoets.org/.
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This is very interesting. I think Michael nailed it.
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I agree! Spot on!
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Thank you, Michael! Beautiful imagery! We look forward to more!
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Love this imagery and awesome imagery💓
Lovely💕
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This is a lovely piece and I enjoyed listening to your voice as well. Congratulations on your wonderfully successful career.
Blessings – it is hard to to be as good as we would like to be in this world. What a treat reading your beautiful poem and I hope that we get to hear you again here.
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I can’t speak for Zen from practice but this poem seems full of it’s about. I want to keep re-reading it.
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