leonardcohenforum.com

That Sudden Sound, Pop Music

It strikes at a moment too sharp for stale
repetition. Pleasing sound is nothing
to quiet down. Yet reprisal's a pale
echo--one arrival is allowed. Sing,

by all means, arched into time’s faltering
applause. Memory accompanies death's
penchant for time-bound shadow. Why not bring
long notes that tempt eternity? Our breath's
too short to box hit singles. Here and now

is the chance to alter prior arrangement
as habit flattens the grand piano
haunting the back parlour. Let sound foment

the secret chord ripe ears suspect is there.
Ephemera–pop–make light of moment’s air.

Music,
it's there and then it's gone.

A great sonnet for a the Leonard Cohen Forum Norman, thank you for posting it here.


I was thinking of you a while ago. Somebody had written a sonnet using a subversive rhyme
with the last line rhyming with the first and the second line rhyming with the second last line.