His poetry is deliberate; the words and images are chosen. Monk's poems are not for those who are easily intimidated or want to read poetry without effort. They are not cerebral poems, nor are they "a spontaneous eruption of powerful feelings," nor lines of rhymes as an end in itself, nor a wild landscape of words and letters thrown haphazardly into the wind to land and sprout as they would, independent of one another. The poems are assembled with care. They are a scaffold upon which Monk builds a spiritual lighthouse, a place to muse, imagine, create, conject, and conjure incantations and songs, as well as an effort to explore and defy dimensions of time, space, and spirit. In doing so, he lays bare not only the shadow and light of his soul but the essential human spirit that binds us all. They teach us something about our shared humanity, that what we love, fear, hate, and desire are inextricably and intimately related. In their relative proximity, these emotional dimensions of our lives reveal our fragility even as they are testimony to human resilience.
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