leonardcohenforum.com

mickey_one wrote:A NEW TIME IS COMING

According to Reverend Sun Myung Moon,

this present materialistic age will soon

yield to a new age of spirituality,

one based on the universal principle of no individuality.


"No other religious leader has founded as many organizations, institutions and projects for world peace and the betterment of society." Well, it hasn't bloody worked, has it. Can I have my mo(o)ney back please?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dmTGcosjIDg
FULL SCREEN..

I hesitated posting this, due to the Spanish.. but then realized there's something more at stake here than getting your Mooney back. I mean, you can't DUB Woody Allen and still have it BE Woody Allen.. (especially in a romance language).. What's wrong with subtitles, anyway?.. I'd have my whole life subtitled if I could..

.. here's an example.

.. here's an example.

.. Oh, so Woody gave this Mooney idea some serious thought but decided that shaving his head and dancing at airports wasn't as alluring as existential dread. So.. to each his own, I guess.

I had no idea that Woody Allen could talk so fast. Maybe one day Sean will stop by and translate for us.

let’s rent a balloon
to send that loon
Mr. Moon
back to the moon

Donation to Rent a Balloon for the Loon fund are tax deductible -
no offense intended to the bird population - it simply rhymed better then nasty man

Picnic

I swallow
the moon, drink

the stars. Spread

a blanket under
the branches

of the old willow;

I will bring them

to you.


note: I had assistance with line breaks

I'm new to the forum here but this thread reminded me so much of Paul Simon's overlooked song "Song About The Moon." Basically a song about how to write a song, so maybe you're right; writing about the moon is a poetic must at some point in everyone's life.

[for my beloved..



Nothing except the moon


I know that love is cruel, and
I don't care.

I know that in love we are cruel, but
how can I let that stop

me. If I'm yours.

If the moon is yours. If I am
the moon.


I come to you with nothing, and
I don't care.

such of nothing is all that lovers ever
needed

and so, how can I
care

when the moon is
myself

when you possess the
moon

when the moon means everything
to those who have

nothing

nothing except
the moon. nothing except
myself

that I am perfect in
you

that I am in you made
perfect.



v i o l e t

later edit: spacing.

a very delayed -

Violet, that was lovely

.

Damn it,

you’ve stolen the moon.
The whole entire fucking moon!

What are you going to do with a moon?

hummmm …

Do you even have a pen to keep it
or will you just let it float around above

so that every time I try to write a love poem
to it, it just becomes another love poem to you.

Every tides pull, every waters rise
just another dedication

to you.

no poem yet, but it has been ungodly beautiful these last few evenings in KS.... colorful, huge, red and then a glorious white shining above.

Violet wrote:
[you can use it whenever you feel so moved]

why thank you. If you notice it's gone in a week or so from now - it's just me taking it for a drive

no poem yet, but it has been ungodly beautiful these last few evenings in KS.... colorful, huge, red and then a glorious white shining above.

sounds beautiful apple.
our moon has seen distant lately. She’s been pale and white. I see her still there in the morning when I take the dog for a walk: perhaps she's looking for something or waiting for winter to arrive.

beautiful Violet!

Her hammer from an aberrant past

distresses her mother's foundations;

a pile-driven invective of selfishness

atrophying behind insipid mask.

Tattooed driftwood bathed in oils

with blackbird reptilian company

adrift without culpability or rescue

to voyage the seas of chance.

She knows where to steer a course

and how to catch a prevailing wind

but contents to flounder in storms,

bleats and blows to stone the crow

though mindful not to bludgeon

nor cause mortality and an endgame.

Moreover to grasp that her reflection

would be mirrored on a surface deep;

marooned in perilous shallows of truth

and the mist of a kitsch indigent moon.

WoW... what a substantive poem, mirrormist. Well done!

And, violet, I too loved your latest one. It also reminds me of someone I know [as in myself ].