Joe Thompson Oct 9

He had a voice like death on a bender.
We listened,
Our vision growing unexpectedly blurred
As he scribbled landscapes
On the window, and sang poetry he created by
Twisting  prayer around blasphemy
Around lust around yearning
With  notes whose colors  bled
One into the other
Into the other -

Beseeching, begging, demanding
The scars of our doubts
The armor of our pain.
And when, one day, he shattered the sun
Raining shards of gold flames like shrapnel
Down on the innocent and guilty alike,
We sat in our shiny new darkness
Singing hallelujah, hallelujah
Over and over again
Rocking back and forth
Clutching an old album cover
Like it was the relic of a saint.

The depth of his music was only a small glimpse of the depth of his spirit.
Conner Dixon May 18

I'm in love

Haha i laugh

I'm in love

I feel so Spiritual

Haha i laugh

Go watch "Kings with straw mats" by Ira Cohen
Nico Reznick Jan 14

Hard frost and treacherous footing.
Nobody wanting to admit
that the new year
tastes an awful lot
like the old year.

None of our heroes
have been supernaturally resurrected.
There's the same
rank toxicity to our fears.
The jaunty carnival of murder and maiming
continues unabated.
Death remains as senseless.
The corridors of power
are still slippery with slug trails and viscera,
and all the janitors have been
indefinitely furloughed.
It's cold, and
the bus is late again.

Still we persist in believing that
today will be different to yesterday,
that all those wrongs will be righted,
that the proper order - as we each individually, as
thin-skinned gods of our own personal
nuclear universes, perceive it -
will be perennially restored,
the buses will all
run on time,
and no one good
will ever die again.

But the truth is, this year
tastes an awful lot like
the old year.
I could be wrong, I guess.
Maybe everything will
turn out

r Jan 4

She sang Hallelujah
I said Amen
sing it again
just like Leonard
in a voice
so light
and subtle
it could darken
dark eyes
and I will wear black
like a knight
who must compose
himself before day
breaks forever into
its weary fever.

Sean Hunt Nov 2016

Leonard left
Virgin words
Against the current
Of my mind
To spawn
For the first time

Trevor Blevins Nov 2016

Leonard Cohen, gone the night before we recited Flanders Field,
And our memory was still fresh with poetic inspiration,
The artistic suppression of dread.

Famous Blue Raincoat,
The feelings of despair and isolation abound.
I felt the cold New York traffic that I was separate from all the bustle
And all the life.

Chelsea Hotel with its twists in compassion,
It's all too human and vulnerable to admit your schisms,
The plight of life when it slips away from us,
Into the city and falls off the roof.

Hallelujah resonates most,
The sound of pure emotion
The feeling of triumph with your chest bare to the Earth.
Let the raw expression engulf you, spread the ashes.

Ju Clear Nov 2016

Just found you have passed
Tears in my eyes as I write.
Len ,Lou and bob too
Your  sounds raised me

You thou Len I would joke about
"not more slit your wrist music "
Forgive me Len I was a kid
Your melloncolly lyrics so fluid and honest
You are the godfather of my lyrical raising .
Fair well my friend

Wrote off the top of my head when I found out of Len passing inspired by my mum and dads hippy raising  one love

Before the light goes out
and the night comes in
before the Angels dance
before the dreams begin

I want to hear you one more time.

Sailors in the arcades
Jesus on the streets
news came in on Friday
everybody weeps.

Luann Jung May 2016

Everything I own, I carry with me:
i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)
It has done me good because of the color of the wheat
But love is not a victory march

Herta Müller
e.e. cummings
Antoine de Saint-Exupéry
Leonard Cohen

No copyright infringement intended; only trying to be creative in the presentation of four quotes that I happen to like.
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