leonardcohenforum.com

do not say she is lovely

unless you have lain with her
in such impossible tangles
that you forget which limbs are hers
and which are yours.

and you cannot
compare her to anything
until you have seen her delicate face
grow brighter and brighter
with the approaching dawn.

and, when you are stumbling home
with sleepless eyes,
and your clothes are heavy
and sweetened with her memory,
ah, then and only then
will i allow you
to speak of her at all.

Hi pinata heart... I think the "I" of this poem becomes interesting to muse on somehow...

v i o l e t

with sleepless eyes,
and your clothes are heavy
and sweetened with her memory,

I love this, I like the whole piece, but I love the weight of the clothes and the fact that they have been sweetened.
What a perfect poem to read before bed - sleepless eyes and heavy clothes...

Cate and Violet,

Your kindness means everything to me. The more I got to know this community, the more I realized it didn't have enough poets (tee hee). But you've encouraged me to contribute...thank you.

I wrote this early one morning on a train, so that I wouldn't forget the incredible evening before. I'm glad you dig.

Warmly,

-ph

While surfing around a little earlier, I was champing up an idea of a love poem with a similar theme as this, though from a different POV. I'm glad I read it; it was enjoyable.

It does seem like the message is, "You don't get to talk about her until you've slept with her." & "Stumbling home" sounds like someone is drunk.

Hi pinata heart - I like your poem, it has some delicate and tender language that flows nicely together.

I'm not much of a poet (I write songs) but if I might offer a few observations:

The first two stanzas work beautifully together, I have the image of someone having told me that my wife is lovely, and my feeling that you cannot know truly how lovely she is, and then explaining to myself silently why that is so.

Although the language in the third stanza has the same tender feeling, I don't really follow it. It would be more of an "if you were stumbling home" and "then and only then could you know". If that is perhaps what you meant to bring across, I think you might consider a couple of minor tweaks because the language wasn't as clear to me as perhaps it could be.

Regardless, well done.

John K.

Your poem was really unexpectedly beautiful for me, pinata heart. I took the stumbling as being that of fatigue and 'weakened,' trembling knees after a full night of lovemaking. If I didn't follow it accurately, I sure thought I did . I love the feeling of exclusivity that you bring to your poem. The phrases that Cate has singled out really struck me, as well... such a unique way of conveying an image, a visceral memory, and a remaining presence. All of this was tremendously evocative for me. And the tangled limbs are great. She sounds beautiful.

Thanks.


~ Lizzy

Yes, stumbling from fatigue is how I took it too, but drunkenness/hangoveriness is something that comes to mind for me when a word like stumbling is used, especially in the morning-after context.

There are some nice images, and I don't mean to be unkind, just looking for the meaning in the piece. For whom is it more important to keep nice words from being spoken than to keep sex from happening?

You are a bushel of peaches...the lot of you! Thank you for your comments and criticism. I never like to reveal too much about what I write because I feel it spoils it for the the reader. I can clarify a few things though...

Regarding the "stumbling", I will admit it was a combination of booze and fatigue, but the real impetus was the fatigue. Lizzy, my dear, you're pretty spot on with what I was trying to say. I was referring to that feeling you get after "a full night of lovemaking", as you put it. There's nothing like it.

I was also trying to address something I learned long ago about the human condition. You see, I feel that this world is populated with two types of people:

1. Those of us who want to know how the magic trick is done

2. Those of us who know that you'll never fully understand magic, and that's what makes it magic

I consider myself to be in the latter and I was speaking to those who choose to keep a safe distance from experience as opposed to diving in head first.