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Marco Feb 12
You're not a man for everyone -
a lover by his lonesome
a companion for the heartbroken
a simplicity in the chaos;

a voice, so rough and gentle in the night,
a silence gone too soon, a light
that fizzled out the day you died
a roaring emptiness left behind.

You're standing in the darkness as if you always had
made a home there and put yourself to bed
made your peace there and found your quiet love
the only light you let in, it came through the cracks,
a spotlight from above.

Now mercy shall not rage and death does not win
a man of constant sorrow you were in your comfortable sin
you offered them a hand, the royal and the slave
even the willow weeping gently over your dark grave.
Kind of chaotic in its style and rhythm due to heavy emotions, I wrote this after Leonard Cohen's passing.
Allison Mar 2018
It’s been months, love,
and you’re far, and have someone new,
but I’ve been dancing all this time,
in our living room, with you.

Even this Cohen record tires,
of playing this song you loved most,
but I swear I feel your hands in my hair,
and you make a handsome ghost.

And I know that this glow is your tail lights,
but I love how it bathes your skin.
I’ve missed all these meals waiting,
so I’ll have my white dress taken in.

Give me a few hours, to tape my face on,
to my bones, my heart: our plans;
truth is, while you were saying goodbye,
I was memorizing your hands.

I hope you don’t mind living this double life,
because I need just little more time,
and if all I have is your absence,
that’s fine.
Hadiy Syakir Jan 2018
We are tied in this together
harder, closer and tighter
I had this kind of bad fever
that I can see this last forever.

We are so compatible
like long lost friends
you are my decible
in the tightest wavelengths.

We are close to each other
like long lost siblings
you are my unending river
in one of the world's greatest findings.

We are so wide awake
like a record put on shuffle sings
you are my deadly snake
in the need of poisonous stings.

We are almost inseparable
like a fit thunder and storm
you are those birds that dabble
in the strike at sea out of norm.

We are hardly intangible
like hydrogen oxide in the air
you are the only trouble
in the search for lone hydrogen in pair.

We are so great in tandem
like Leonard Cohen's words of rhythm
you are the heart of my poem
in the greatest invention since algorithm.

You are surely the best ever
as,
I have lost count of my own blinks
you assured me that everything will be better
as,
I will never know what the future bring.
Sarah Michelle Nov 2017
Coffee spattered on
My notebook and my copy
Of *Book of Longing
Scott Hamsun Jan 2017
You will not long be remembered,
Not with the perspective you gave me.
But what you have done will forever affect history.

You've left the wire,
Like a man, fighting a fire,
I'm just glad,
That you got to be free.
Francie Lynch Nov 2016
You were the perfect offering:
You wrote,
You sang,
You played,
Did anything,
But now -
Are there any cracks or crevices,
Windows, holes or doors;
Has the pine split below?
With the leafs gone,
Under Supermoon or blazing sun,
Does the light get in,
Or was it just
Another song?
Edward Coles Nov 2016
You took me to the Mekong River,
handing my documents over the border,
to the temple of the left-handed Buddha,
in the hope it would all make sense.

You took me to the brink of a stolen calamity,
you stayed with me in poetry; my eventual insanity.
You kept me with your golden voice,
you kept me with your wit.

You lost me with your genius;
how you discarded it.

You drove me to a calling that I could not fulfill,
just make statuettes from the ash that lines my windowsill.
Call it art, or call it a longing,
call it that animal burn for some kind of belonging.

You were a father, you called off the saints,
you cooled my tongue, my off-white yogi;
taught me these songs of pain, these songs of love
were meant to be sung by everyone.

Not the clever mind, nor the metronome heart
that keeps time with this life, that keeps pace from the start,
but for the stumbling folk, the slow off the blocks,
the maladjusted, the criminal; those who only see dark.

That this chip on my shoulder is a flute in which to sing,
that each failure I live, is a story I should bring
to the table of life, to the feast of recovery,
for every impatient soul with a hunger for discovery.

Each broken chord is a chance to sound alive,
amongst the crackle of the static, there is another side.
Another wasteland companion, another strangled voice,
that amongst all this hopelessness; we always have a choice.

To bend or to break in the shatter of our soul,
sometimes the glass must be half-empty in order to feel whole.
That some convenience pleasure is not always enough,
sometimes we must bear the burden;
sometimes we must hang tough.

Because the words will come, the sun will rise,
amongst the debris of yesterday, there is another side.
You took me to the temple and on bended knee I pray,
that I could lift a suicide, with just the words I say.
Written on the day that Leonard Cohen died.



Leonard Cohen tribute:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e01PXY9QYqg&feature;=youtu.be
Neville Johnson Nov 2016
The hat he wore with ease
Indoors and onstage
The raspy baritone, the sage
The jeweler with words
That sparkled in our minds
The smiling cynic
The optimist at times
Brave, uncompromising
Knowing it would soon end
We wanted it darker
He knew we did
So he gave it to us straight
Our rhyming friend

I've been to Hydra
Stood outside his home
It's a simple place
Where cars do not roam
I breathed the same air
Marveled at the deep blue sea
I was drawn there by his spirit
By his poetry
And now he's gone
We shall carry on today
We have to
He would have wanted it this way

And we will surely miss him
For us, he does pray.
Francie Lynch Nov 2016
The words have stopped,
The music aint flowing,
There's been the death of a lady's man,
The death of one Leonard Cohen.
Leonard died today. He was such an inspiration to me. Saw him in concert severals times, the last, two years ago. He was a novelist, literary critic, academic, poet, lyracist, songwriter, and so much more. We've lost one of the greatest voices of our contemporary world.
Death of a Lady's Man is the title track of one of his LPs.
Francie Lynch Jan 2016
Consider the couplets
Cohen sings,
And the rhyming lyrics
Rappers bring;
And tell me
That ain't poetry.
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