Showing posts with label Monkey King. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Monkey King. Show all posts

Friday, July 31, 2026

He Ain't Heavy, He's MY Brother (reposted story poem)

 You know, I often write about relationships, dialogue, and the importance of feminine aspects and energy. My poems are all about goddesses as archetypes and guiding voices and forces against patriarchy.  But there is a special quality that families and life also have on the male side of things.

Brothers have a very powerful supportive influence within a family that can last into adulthood and throughout our lives. And that's the way it is between my brothers and I. I have a lot of fond memories in my family, and I am the youngest of three brothers. Last evening, my middle brother passed away. I love him so, and he has meant so much to me throughout my life...

Prayers would be appreciated as we mourn his passing.

Some years back I wrote a poem on this blog about my brother Dave....  and here it is,,, Dave...rest in peace and God be with you! ~~~Namaste--my brother





Little David and the Dancing Monkey

by Tim Kavi


when across the eddying

spheres of time

there is an existence in

a moment

between young and old


is it the generations

talking?

or just me myself

longing for something I knew

or making sense of what

I am taught


the clever young minstrel did sing

and dance

doing battles for the great

and good

on a journey to the West


Are you me?

The minstrel asked.


No, I am Sun Wukong.

I use my skills

like this...swoosh swoosh

swoosh!


I see! Said the minstrel

preparing his stringed

instrument


I am named after you, though

I am your nephew

Little David


Uncle David smiled

chuckled

and said: You were dancing

quite a bit

let me sing you a song

while you rest


Oh? You play the guitar!

My father told me

Oh, what a treat!


It is my own Journey to the West

while my guitar gently weeps

playing notes of blest or blast

roaring like a stratocaster

but please be calmed


and like a David and his harp


soon the notes filled the air

with sweet sounds

of poetry flying there


the young Sun Wukong

could not stop himself

he danced and twirled

like some Dervishes

from another place


"I can tell you are a legend

You should never settle for less

hang on to the skirt of existence

such preciousness in Guan Yin

rises to meet you

and bless"


Uncle David did sing!


while the prettiest sounds

that little boy

ever heard

the Fender did bring


and when the song ended

the little dancer

that Monkey King

had tears in his eyes


Oh Uncle David!

You sing so nice.

Thank you so much!


Uncle David smiled

No problem, he said


at that moment

Little David's father

entered the room


Father! Father!

Uncle David sang me a song

and played his guitar

You were right!


Yes son, life is great

art and love

and family and truth

are all around us


to Uncle, father said

Thank you!

It's great to see you!


Uncle David smiled

Father said

Little David's mother

had prepared

an evening meal


a supper for a dancing monkey

a skilled minstrel

a poet father

two brothers

and a clever child


Father??

Yes son?

After supper

may I show Uncle David

my moves

with my monkey stick?


Yes son,

but please be careful

you can put an eye out

with that thing!


everyone laughed.




Thursday, June 6, 2013

Kavita #332 (new poem)

Tim Kavi's Celestial Typists

Kavita #332
by Tim Kavi

the monkey runs around
laughing
his pursuers slip on
banana peels
and peach pits
are left glimmering in the sun

he is Sun Wukong
or Hanuman laughing
playing
tickling the underarms
until sages are almost
annoyed

the place is the jungle

22 celestial typists
type randomly
until all the names of God
are listed
quite by accident
until the paper is expelled

a well meaning sage
wanders by
almost blinded by the whiteness
of the page
he reads with wonder
and nods his head

a cosmic explosion follows

 
an old man buys his young
granddaughter ice cream
she smiles
he remembers when grand papa
did the same for him
he smiles

the nearby crows
hope the cone is dropped
on the way home 
through the park
another child swings
and plays with balloons

life goes on.

Monday, January 14, 2013

Little David and the Dancing Monkey (Story Poem)




Little David and the Dancing Monkey
by Tim Kavi

when across the eddying
spheres of time
there is an existence in
a moment
between young and old

is it the generations
talking?
or just me myself
longing for something I knew
or making sense of what
I am taught

the clever young minstrel did sing
and dance
doing battles for the great
and good
on a journey to the West

Are you me?
The minstrel asked.

No, I am Sun Wukong.
I use my skills
like this...swoosh swoosh
swoosh!

I see! Said the minstrel
preparing his stringed
instrument

I am named after you, though
I am your nephew
Little David

Uncle David smiled
chuckled
and said: You were dancing
quite a bit
let me sing you a song
while you rest

Oh? You play the guitar!
My father told me
Oh, what a treat!

It is my own Journey to the West
while my guitar gently weeps
playing notes of blest or blast
roaring like a stratocaster
but please be calmed

and like a David and his harp

soon the notes filled the air
with sweet sounds
of poetry flying there

the young Sun Wukong
could not stop himself
he danced and twirled
like some Dervishes
from another place

"I can tell you are a legend
You should never settle for less
hang on to the skirt of existence
such preciousness in Guan Yin
rises to meet you
and bless"

Uncle David did sing!

while the prettiest sounds
that little boy
ever heard
the Fender did bring

and when the song ended
the little dancer
that Monkey King
had tears in his eyes

Oh Uncle David!
You sing so nice.
Thank you so much!

Uncle David smiled
No problem, he said

at that moment
Little David's father
entered the room

Father! Father!
Uncle David sang me a song
and played his guitar
You were right!

Yes son, life is great
art and love
and family and truth
are all around us

to Uncle, father said
Thank you!
It's great to see you!

Uncle David smiled
Father said
Little David's mother
had prepared
an evening meal

a supper for a dancing monkey
a skilled minstrel
a poet father
two brothers
and a clever child

Father??
Yes son?
After supper
may I show Uncle David
my moves
with my monkey stick?

Yes son,
but please be careful
you can put an eye out
with that thing!

everyone laughed.

Sunday, March 4, 2012

My Love's Ashes (new poem)


My Love's Ashes
by Tim Kavi

when in the signs of Winter's thaw
I journeyed with the monks then
the snow is melting
empties into the river
flows into the sea.

life is neverending,
it flows and flows
changing forms
constantly reborn.

a butterfly
a new sun in the cosmic dust
a flower peeks through
the dirt, in the sun's loving touch.

I carry your ashes my dear
the crying nearly stops
in fact, the monks look like jumping
gazelles dancing on the mountain path
ducking between lillies and rocks
on the winding road.

where is that silly Sun
Wukong? Stealing peaches again
or laughing
until slapped by Kwan Yin?

The wind is picking up
my ears hear the calling sounds
memories of your sweet voice
I love you, my love
always singing my eternal choice.

the valley of Dunhuang
tombs cannot hold you there
for we shall paint you
on the wall, previously bare.

my tears fall
like your ashes into the paint
the monks are master mixers
in the puzzles that life brings.

on the wall they paint
Shadows and Dreams of you
in the cave of Mogao
burning incense songs to you.

I am silent now
praising you, the Goddess
revealed in the fresh
painting
I seek you again
there is no more flesh
I am seeing that remembered
smiling face
always, in your soul's embrace.

afterword: always remembering that all is sunyata.~~TK

Tuesday, February 12, 2008

a reader asks?

A Reader Asks About the Poem 'longing'

Upon reading one of my poems ("longing"), a reader asked a question--

"longing"

longing to kiss you and hold you
ever to stand
against the long wind
we will always stand together
our hearts beat together as one.

gentle breath of the goddess
you seek me out and shine
when in the eternal recurrence divine
you make me glad to be thine.

longing to see you and behold
your gentle saving grace
I see you face to face
in the sacred place.

there is no shadow of retreat
only the openness
where all is known
truly met by you, my sweet.

Reader "Winter" wrote:

Hi,Tim Kavi, I'm glad again to meet with your poem. and you spoke of Kwan yin, is she a statue in Buddhism? You regard women as Kwan yin. It seems that Kwan yin, inyour heart, is very holy,I think.

"your gentle saving grace",in this sentence,"saving" means "besides"?Have a nice week Winter:)

Hi Winter:

Thank you. yes this poetic form is an encounter with the archetypal feminine--captured perhaps by Kuan Yin and Ma Durga-- it is a poem to the goddess--something which is part of the sacred feminine--I believe the anima that Carl Jung spoke of--and all women (and men to an extent) have it.

oh, yes, there are statues of her in Buddhism as Avalokiteshvara, and she is mentioned in the tale of the Monkey King as well.

you asked: "your gentle saving grace",in this sentence,"saving" means "besides"? my usage of "saving" here means to be rescued, or to be saved from danger or peril, perhaps from a corrupt masculine nature. To be made safe from is what saving means. There is also a Christian notion of redemption in saving as an act of salvation, but that usage is not what I meant in a complete sense, but it captures it a bit.

I do believe that all men are wise to know the importance of women and that their folly may indeed be "saved" by the woman's wisdom! heheheheh :-)

Have a happy day!

Tim Kavi