poemsbyothers

history, yourstory “but now finally surrendered to the Great / Resignation of Poetry / and not the kind of Wise Experience / or the false kisses of Competitive / Insight, but my own sweet dark / religion of Poetry my booby prize” L. Cohen / From Takanawa Prince Hotel Bar

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call song mind time cinemagraph heart music simon thought circumcision kind lyrics sick thinking going poetry religion verse betty sound final point language joke third smith enriched paul graceland zevon coming love thing good audience york warren abstract memoirs work hearts hard tonight write writing screens big interested ended speech people easy talking year second day things road chase true roy prayer structure stupid hit summer sort thoughts starts bar creating wounded architecture houses distance rhythm man interesting long asked messy children chevy dark brave angels play image history ball nice girlishness endure listen random lost thinks knee allowed spinning seamon bad played running written source ordinary pick live drunk lysol house blocks hotel chorus poem phrase funny motions fell story gracelandi loves sweet pain cohen rights smaller vernacular feeling fall discovery street afraid halee bakithi narrow catching inside cotter slipping half bones host moment takanawa felt lily course guy