Gnome Poetry and Improv Evening (24/6/2018)

There once was a monk from Madrid
Who declared that his good deeds were hid.
Not thinking a thought
Nor seeking the sought,
His doing was nothing he did.

 

Capitalist cat chasing leaves
As if they were mice
American short hair

 

Sometimes you get it back
But it never returns
In the form that it left –
Money maybe but never love

Winter nighthawks hover
Over moon-lit revelations
The dead in the field

There once was a monk from L.A.
Who was lost in the ways of the Way.
In order to make it
He had to forsake it,
The searching that led him astray.

There once was a monk from Crimea
Who conceived of his own utopia
But he could not fulfill
His ambition until
He subtracted the “I” from idea.

 

There once was a monk from Havana
Who was hung up on subduing nirvana.
To extinguish the fire
One must dispense with desire.
I can but I don’t really wanna.

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For more poetry by Preston, see here.

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