Homage Poems/Stories/Songs/Haikus

[Cate]

.
A thread for pieces dedicated to or inspired by Leonard.



~~
(mine, an homage to Leonard Cohen's - You have the Lovers.
this is a slightly edited challenge entry in which we were to write an homage specifically to a poem)


The Lovers (or rented room)

Before us, a hundred lovers
have lain on this bed, pressed
bruised lips to closed eyes
and merged flesh while shadows
moved along empty walls.
In this room, lovers lit candles
murmured quiet prayers
lost in sighs.

Deliberately
we uncover the bed. The bedspread
falls to the floor. We move under
sheets. There is the touch of hand
to hip, a leg slides between thighs.
The memory of a hundred silently
moves with us, for tonight
we are the lovers.

[Violet]

Hello ... was there a thread for homage poems/Leonard poems?

IN memorata
Leonardo
Cohen the Elder
Disttertum et annabulus
O he of Voice Azure
like warrior nuns
spiteing and creabulus
Attack the Applez
tree bound
and hostile
prying beyong beggars
spying beyong
tramps
Beyonce in despatum!
O Dolorum Miraculus
Birdus on Wirenomius Despeakum
Leonardo Da Cohen
no painty
no singy
here on Marrian's buttocckus
and in deathfeatus Eterny!!!
LIfetrue of lifelie?
who can speakum?

.. who can speakum?

.. you know, just because you were privileged enough to have the sort of classical education that included Latin, doesn't mean you should go showing off like that. [and actually, I'm really quite surprised at this, given where all that sheepskin has landed you] [my god.. that you would invoke Marianne's buttocckus??] [as far as I know, she's not looking to make john hook-ups at prestigious literary sites] [last I checked, I mean] [my god].. Anyway, here I am.. struggling with words like—oh, I don't know, "fuckum" is probably Latin [now that I think about it].. while you go and write a complete homage. Uh, Homage.

.. anyway, I'm humbled. [from the Latin: Humblum] [derived from: conundrum] [the etymology of which I've noted before] [recall, reader, that's: condom before band practice]*

Signed,

Dr. Violet D. Flowers [yes folks, I just decided I have a Ph.D.] [it's a big day for me in la la land, in other words] [please keep your place in line, as there are a lot of you, I know, wanting to shake my hand, so.. just keep in line, if you would] [oh, and there's gitnose punch (or, do I mean a nice punch in the gitnose?) being served in the receiving room] [I, meanwhile, am obviously in the room that has the purple velvet throne] [just realized]

* derived from: condum. [ibidabadoo]

[Violet]

.. oh, I added a very significant fredflintstonefootnote [above], which I thought I should draw attention to with a whole new post. [since I feel like it] [so there]

Dr. V.D. Flowers.. [actually, my initials I'm finding less than inspiring] [now that I'm looking at them, I mean]

[nonnymonster]

You are the golden symphony of things I couldn’t quite feel.
I am the broken rose unthrown, wishing itself at your feet.
You caress the wounds of the world so sweetly, they sing and forget to heal.
Numb to the touch of God since my father’s stained glass eyes in church
Rendered me impotent to silent invitations of marble martyrs
I cannot take freely the communion of blood, of stars, of earth.
You are the broken symphony, exalting the limp I conceal.

[Violet]

You are the golden symphony of things I couldn’t quite feel.
I am the broken rose unthrown, wishing itself at your feet.
You caress the wounds of the world so sweetly, they sing and forget to heal.
Numb to the touch of God since my father’s stained glass eyes in church
Rendered me impotent to silent invitations of marble martyrs
I cannot take freely the communion of blood, of stars, of earth.
You are the broken symphony, exalting the limp I conceal.

.. I read this poem a number of times after you first posted it, and it's stayed with me..

.. it touches my heart, somehow..

v. x

[AmazonNew]

Choosing the god

(Dedicated to Leonard Cohen)


When you fill me with your voice
I understand: you are my choice
and my faith comes alive again
approaching another life
will make me stronger in my fight
and insensitive to the pain.

Your music sounds a breath of time.
How many years it is alive!
and with you it will never grow old.
Holy fire of your face
have forced the devil to leave his race
further from the sound of your chords.

When you sing and when you play,
it isn't music but a prayer
very fair, sincere and hot.
The evil hides beneath the ground
spirit of love has flying round ...
I am your witness now,
You – my God!!



P.S. I don’t know the greater man as you are
I don’t know the greater god as you are

[Violet]

With love from Kyiv to Leonard Cohen

When you fill me with your voice
I understand: you are my choice
I crashed my faith, but new-born faith awaking.
Comes the Saturday again,
No work - and no chain,
Only you, my God, my soul taking.

Now I feel, your music breathe...
You so many years live
But for me you don’t became a old.
Love like fire from your side
force the devil end his ride
Soon as hear the sound of your chord.

When you sing and when you play,
That’s no music, that’s a prayer
and this prayer join the whole world
Devil running to the Hell
When he feel your music smell...
I’m your witness now,
You – my God!

Amazon,

I'm sure you mean well 'n all.. or, er, maybe you don't.. but the point is--

actually, what is my point?

oh.. (hmm).. let me put it this way:

if you're a fish relative, then so be it. [or even a relative of fish's "bruvver," what's-his-face] [though I'm leaning more towards fish somehow] Anyway, if that's what's going on here, then so be it. We all need some Saturday morning entertainment. But if you're NOT a fish relative, then PLEASE don't go crying to me.. I mean, you asked for it, given your, uh, little "pome" here. And so you have no one to blame but yourself.

[nice pic, by the way. And on that topic, we're all terribly grateful that you're at least wearing clothes]

[yes, it seems like things are looking up around here, after all]

Anyway, A.. given English is obviously a second or third language to you, I suggest you peek in on other forums where your original tongue is elaborated on, in which case we all hope and pray that your, uh, "thought" capacities are elevated as well. I mean, not knowing English is one thing, but your being.. uh.. ___________ [reader: you decide].. is quite another.. and, I mean, just finding a good translator is not going to help in that case.

Okay.. here's a little exercise:

try writing this same poem, having checked it for grammatical errors [obviously].. but also avoiding words like.. hmm.. let's see now..

faith.. god.. soul.. devil.. faith.. [oh, did I say that already?].. for starters.

Also, see if you can have, if not an original thought, then at least a thought that doesn't sound like a cliche that fails even to remember which cliche it was attempting to be. Now, I'm not too sure how you even accomplished that, and.. hmm.. actually

wow: that might, in fact, constitute some manner of originality. [now that I'm thinking about it]

in which case, never mind:

keep up the good work, Amazon!

V.D. Flowers, Ph.D.

[Violet]

Choosing the god With love from Kyiv to Leonard Cohen

(Dedicated to Leonard Cohen)[the original version highlighted in blue by your dedicated chick lit critic]


When you fill me with your voice When you fill me with your voice
I understand: you are my choice I understand: you are my choice
and my faith comes alive again I crashed my faith, but new-born faith awaking.
approaching another life Comes the Saturday again,
will make me stronger in my fight No work - and no chain,
and insensitive to the pain. Only you, my God, my soul taking.

Your music sounds a breath of time. Now I feel, your music breathe...
How many years it is alive! You so many years live
and with you it will never grow old. But for me you don’t became a old.
Holy fire of your face Love like fire from your side
have forced the devil to leave his race force the devil end his ride
further from the sound of your chords. Soon as hear the sound of your chord.

When you sing and when you play, When you sing and when you play,
it isn't music but a prayer That’s no music, that’s a prayer
very fair, sincere and hot. and this prayer join the whole world
The evil hides beneath the ground Devil running to the Hell
spirit of love has flying round ... When he feel your music smell...
I am your witness now, I’m your witness now,
You – my God!! You – my God!



P.S. I don’t know the greater man as you are P.S. Time to try that ol' time religion. Never thought I'd say it, but
I don’t know the greater god as you are it's there for a reason. [probably to th-top hero worthip like thith] [thith lath-t part theemth to require a lithp for thum reathon.. not thore why]

Amazon,

I should be in bed now, but I was so pleasantly surprised that you would work more on your little homage here that I thought: damn, I need to acknowledge this extended effort on your part. [uh.... fish?.. are you okay??.. is it.. is it that std thing again? or.. anyway, just wondering]

Okay, I can't tell you what a pain in the ass it was putting your original effort [highlighted in blue above] RIGHT NEXT TO your new effort. Let me just look at this now, as I was too busy with that whole pain-in-the-ass process to really notice what the differences and/or similarities are..

.. actually, I'm now in a quandary as to which effort I prefer. Now, while I'm quite missing "when he feel your music smell".. I am compensated for the loss with: "very fair, sincere and hot".. [I'm especially liking "hot" here] [and I'm sure Leonard is liking it too]

.. oh, I forgot.. I meant to say this earlier, since it's good to get these things out of the way first, so that.. well.. I admit it, I've been known to stick my foot in it from time to time.. okay, so: are you, uh, mentally incapacitated?.. [I believe that's the p.c. term] [pretty sure].. because if you are, then

actually, I'm not sure that has any bearing on my job here at all. Speaking of.. I've just decided I have two doctorate degrees [yes, folks: two].. one in comparative lingerie [a subset of my chick lit crit thesis: why a room of her own is not enough] [oh, and as I said elsewhere: when the rainbow IS enough] [or ISN'T] [I can't remember now]; oh, and my second doctorate is in the psychopathology of everyday imposters-- uh, posters. [again: as sometimes determined (or not) by overt, or even covert references to rainbows] [which have come up a lot in the past, though I see you make no such reference here, A.. although you did make sure to focus on "faith," something I repeatedly objected to earlier on, if you recall] [oh, which goes to the fact (fish) that I AM quite aware of by now your need to incite me, a proclivity I pay extra careful attention to in my "psychopathology" thesis] [so be warned]

Okay, I hope this has been of use to you, I'm going to bed.

Professor V.D. Flowers [that's "doc" to you]