leonardcohenforum.com

Recklessly
You smash against
the cage
They cart you away
But that ain't your end

You see the blue of day
Through some old
cardboard box
And His promise
nestled in your bosom

The time draws near
It is written, it is sung
But the vagaries of chance persist
In the envelope
that is yesterday

And you open it
to a holocaust of the dead
Cut down
in painful circumstance
You stand for them as well

The wind it whistles
in your empty empire
Come fill it
with burning candles
They don't blow out

So feel the tightness
of the night
This is your last dream
When you awaken
there shall be no doubt

But clarity
Life
A kookaburra's prehistoric laugh
You look into morning
and pray to yourself


Adam (28/9/13,700,000,020)

And Boss said:

You look into morning
and pray to yourself

May you have many, many mornings free from the cage. May the soft whisper of the self enliven your heart. May the world rock you gently. May the Moshiach always walk beside you. May the light of understanding always grant you a clarity of vision. And may your courage increase sevenfold and then sevenfold. Yours is a beautiful searching heart, Boss.

All the best

Bernard

Yours is a beautiful prayer for Adam, Bernard.


All the best
for you both,
Lizzy

I am touched Bernard
Thank you Lizzy

In everyone will the Moshiach walk.
He gears up for his undertaking even today.
But you would laugh if you saw Him.
Isaiah knows Him.

And you won't know what hit you.

Adam

I'm not big on the concept of "anointed ones" (moshiach/messhias) comming back to save the day or torture and punish the black sheep and the lost, tormented or fallen.
It does nothing to improve my humanity. It only takes me back to Egypt and the dreams of slaves.
Boss, my friend, on this point we have juxtaposed views.
If my god really encouraged this sort of destiny, I would desert him and the black holes of space and thought could have me.

... for there is no beauty in this, and I am a lover of beauty.

Jamesy,

Your servant here, he has been told
to say it clear, to say it cold:
It's over, it ain't going
any further

Mr. Cohen '92

But juxtaposition is fine, mate

They will crush you with wealth and power
Every waking moment you could crack
I'll make the most of one last extra hour
I'll revenge my father's death then I'll step back

Ain't talkin', just walkin'
Hand me down my walkin' cane
Heart burnin', still yearnin'
Got to get you out of my miserable brain

All my loyal and much-loved companions
They approve of me and share my code
I practice a faith that's been long abandoned
Ain't no altars on this long and lonesome road

Bob Dylan, 2006

So the dance in harmony's done
And you think you might have won
To the mystery She beckons
And it's love that only reckons:
He writes His lonely songs in a setting sun.

Won't follow some dark byway
He'll travel the cosmic highway
Now lives in secret pockets
Oh to be there once He's got it:
The world shall really move, it'll kinda' sway.

She's content with Her glib songs
Of everything that's gone wrong
Writes poems down the beach
The future out of reach:
'Cause something doesn't fit, it don't belong.

Fashion harnesses morality
Just like Her sweet banality
She calls Her mum a bitch
And hails the stinking rich:
She walks into Her day of pure hostility.

Invert your broken wonder
Living prophets scream through thunder
We shrink in greenhouse fog
Nothin' else can crank the cog:
And the greed of Man it brings us all asunder.

So the moon knows Him, knows Her
They hear the planet whir
You see They have the right
Hear the call and know the night:
Find the truth outside our lies, it ain't so tough sir.


_____________________________________________________________


he is trapped
in his stale day
his stifled sex
this blatant tyranny

but if they knew
who he was
they would stop
and meet regret

and he will rise
on future's wings
and demand justice
command it

and that chilling laugh
which so frightens him
which ebbs in glee
it will soon be dead

this language of greed
spoken out loud
crawls back into
mediocrity's pouch

and he's as simple
as a soundless song
and that is enough
for tomorrow

he doesn't read
literature
or psychology
he has the sea

and the poverty
that irks him so
will be swallowed
but not by heaven

and the war
in his backyard
will linger
then fade

and his poems wilt
into a burning sun
reindeer drink
children splash

and his politics is raw
knows not left nor right
his politics is opened
by the teardrop of a dog

and he'll rally the men
but many will run
he'll beg the women
of indifference

but he will not stop
obsessed by the mayhem
no martyr is he
he'll quell the contagion

and prophets call out
those gone and still here
but some report death
from their stiff concrete minds

and he keeps to himself
in this needle thin world
just biding his time
'til the stormclouds arrive

there's a sweet touch of grace
on his ramshackle road
no tea in fine china
no chalk on the board

and this ecstasy drought
is met by her nectar
her fertile ripe valleys
in yesterday's dance

and a pelican's bill
holds all that it needs
destiny sure
he safe in her pocket




.

Hi Adam ~

These verses sure paint a graphic picture.

She's content with Her glib songs
Of everything that's gone wrong
Writes poems down the beach
The future out of reach:
'Cause something doesn't fit, it don't belong.

Fashion harnesses morality
Just like Her sweet banality
She calls Her mum a bitch
And hails the stinking rich:
She walks into Her day of pure hostility.

Invert your broken wonder
Living prophets scream through thunder
We shrink in greenhouse fog
Nothin' else can crank the cog:
And the greed of Man it brings us all asunder.

~ Lizzy

Cranky old men and cranky new ones. Not sure how you enter a quote but I am with Matt here:

"For every new born child that graces this earth god shows he has not grown tired of us."

This is by Toreaus I think, comes at the end of the movie Indian Runner(well obviously not originally!). How do you explain the coming of the Holocaust to a four year old?
Peace with hope.

James,

You raise a bloody good point. How does one tell a child of impending doom? Indeed, what do parents tell their four year old children in times of war, of famine? What did a mother say to her children after the iceberg struck the Titanic?

I guess you try and keep your child calm. But can you not tell a child today of the environment, can you not tell a child of our nuclear arsenals that build daily, can you not tell a child of AIDS, can you not tell a child of the incredible wealth, incredible greed of the queen?

The fact is, this planet is a cataclysm just waiting to happen. But no one round here seems to want to acknowledge it. It's all gossip - and I am guilty of it too. I went to a lecture given by an eminent professor in the early nineties. He held grave concerns for our ecosystem. He was right, but no one listened...

James, we live in 'Closing Time'. However, I am not defeated by it, I am not a Nihilist. Indeed, I see a 'brand new day' in the future - but there will be an awful scramble to get there. And yes, we will have to tell our children the truth and yes, it won't be pleasant.

And out of the murky remnants of our history, out of the prayers of countless millions, an avatar is alive here on earth. As for me, I have said my fair share on this forum. It is time to leave - I have nothing more to say.

James, I enjoy your poetry and your comments, you are switched on. Take care; and tell the others, 'peace' and 'thanks'

Goodbye
Adam

I don't think this group could carry itself quite so well if you disappeared Adam, although I am inclined to believe you've more important chores at hand, I would hate a forum minus someone with such compassion and empathy. Thank you for the kind words, take a break but not an exit.
Sincerely Yours,
A child at heart.

Good heavens, dear friend, Adam ~

If it weren't already so late and I didn't have to be up for work in 4 hours, I'd take longer to respond... but I really don't have time right now.

What is this that you're saying, though? Hope to see you here tomorrow, so I don't have to go on about what you already know I'm thinking and feeling.


Love,
Lizzy