I’ve spent much of the early part of April, National Poetry Month, reading the poetry of Leonard Cohen. That’s largely because I spent much of the end of March doing the same. I came across Cohen’s last book, The Flame, among my library’s CD books, and brought it home to accompany me on my way to and from work. Halfway through, I went back to the library and got the hardcover book as well.
Food fills our bellies
but it’s drink nourishes our souls.
I’ll eat your pizza,
your cake your pie,
your casseroles dumplings soups and salads
and I’ll give you mine
with a smile.
But what we really need
and always keep on hand
(to share on a moment’s notice or none at all)
is tea,
is coffee. Continue reading
Up in the apple tree
we watched the leaves the birds
shared our secrets
read countless books
surveilled the world
Bodies balanced
legs wrapped round broad limbs
we turned our eyes sometimes skyward
sometimes to the ground
lived in the present
imagined the future Continue reading
I tilt back my head and gaze into the canopy
lush tropical density shading
my over-delicate skin
from the blazing eye above.
Light peeks through, birds and insects call out, Continue reading
The poet that I heard tonight
brought their fears, their loves their passions
and shared them with the world
Their pain their blood their past
shared to soothe our souls
Their skin their grit their history
emotions raw and real
and true
so true
for not just them
for me
for you Continue reading
“Ba, ba, ba, ba, ba.”
Children run for cover, trampling each other in a desperate sprint for safety.
In the street an 8-year-old boy
lies
motionless as his savior on the cross,
wounds front and back.
His mother rushes to hold him,
somehow knows
where there’s no compassion,
compression can save lives.
Her hands cover his wounds
try to stanch the blood
hold the life within. Continue reading