Sunday, November 16, 2014

THE SOUND OF DOING ZEN WHILE LIVING



From the heart, the story must come;
from the mind, it must be strung.
Bead after bead, word after word
the design shown on completion.

The poem, the lyric line
a thought in time  so
different than prose
ordered
self-contained,  repose.

To weave a tale, both
from the mind;
to make a sale.
With the prophet made
to belive or throw away,
maybe to come back and haunt
a mental taunt, mid sentence halt.
Ponder the image-icon uncarved bloc.
Entertain/a/jolt/cause/pain or just
plane away
insane.

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