Verses of Love and Mercy
Even if I knew what was best for your tiny beating heart,
I'd still hide it away in a fragile jeweled box,
To keep concealed, so that one day
I could reveal the world's secrets to you.
Even if you controlled the wills of distant bitter men,
I'd still wait for you to toss it in a stream,
To keep sunken, so that one day
You could tell me that you thought me better.
Even if I was aware of the complexities of your flesh,
You'd still unearth your last unpopular freckle,
To keep me here, so that one day
You could announce "I never had to let you win."
Even if I were to chance upon the lost continent in your auburn eye,
I'd still admire the ocean of your opposing masterpiece,
To keep from eroding, so that one day
I could look to you and see a book of love and mercy.
Verses of Love and Mercy
Verses of Love and Mercy
This is my story both humble and true,
Take it to pieces and mend it with glue.
- John Lennon, 1969
Take it to pieces and mend it with glue.
- John Lennon, 1969
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trentm32
- Oskar Winner: 2005
- Posts: 2272
- Joined: 3/17/2002, 2:51 pm
- Location: my heart is in New York.
- Contact:
I dig it; good imagery.
"When looking up there, I just felt whole, like I belonged. Like one day I too would shine my most brilliant. Sitting there also made me think about sitting through services at my little country church back home. About that never-changing congregation of the same sixty-seven people and everyone has known you since before you were born. Now, out here in the real world, everything just seemed more vivid than when I used to sit in that little pew. That pew that was now so, so far away from where I was. I feared I had somehow left God behind there, too. I feared he was somehow just sitting there, saving my seat on the fifth pew from the front row, just waiting on me to come back. I left so quickly, I worried that he may not have noticed I was gone. And, now, I’m just too far away to find. So he’s just sitting there, patiently waiting on me to come back. I closed my eyes and prayed a moment. I hoped more than anything that he could still hear me." -an excerpt from my novella, A Sea of Fallen Leaves.
<a href="http://www.soundthesirens.com">SoundTheSirens.com</a>
<a href="http://www.soundthesirens.com">SoundTheSirens.com</a>
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trentm32
- Oskar Winner: 2005
- Posts: 2272
- Joined: 3/17/2002, 2:51 pm
- Location: my heart is in New York.
- Contact:
evanw60 wrote:Thankyou! I wrote it JUST after reading some Leonard Cohen.
"When looking up there, I just felt whole, like I belonged. Like one day I too would shine my most brilliant. Sitting there also made me think about sitting through services at my little country church back home. About that never-changing congregation of the same sixty-seven people and everyone has known you since before you were born. Now, out here in the real world, everything just seemed more vivid than when I used to sit in that little pew. That pew that was now so, so far away from where I was. I feared I had somehow left God behind there, too. I feared he was somehow just sitting there, saving my seat on the fifth pew from the front row, just waiting on me to come back. I left so quickly, I worried that he may not have noticed I was gone. And, now, I’m just too far away to find. So he’s just sitting there, patiently waiting on me to come back. I closed my eyes and prayed a moment. I hoped more than anything that he could still hear me." -an excerpt from my novella, A Sea of Fallen Leaves.
<a href="http://www.soundthesirens.com">SoundTheSirens.com</a>
<a href="http://www.soundthesirens.com">SoundTheSirens.com</a>
Check this Cohen pooem out.
There Are Some Men
There are some men
who should have mountains
to bear their names to time.
Grave-markers are not high enough
or green,
and sons go far away
to lose the fist
their father's hand will always seem.
I had a friend:
he lived and died in mighty silence
and with dignity,
left no book, son, or lover to mourn.
Nor is this a mourning-song
but only a naming of this mountain
on which I walk,
fragrant, dark, and softly white
under the pale of mist.
I name this mountain after him.
That rocks.
There Are Some Men
There are some men
who should have mountains
to bear their names to time.
Grave-markers are not high enough
or green,
and sons go far away
to lose the fist
their father's hand will always seem.
I had a friend:
he lived and died in mighty silence
and with dignity,
left no book, son, or lover to mourn.
Nor is this a mourning-song
but only a naming of this mountain
on which I walk,
fragrant, dark, and softly white
under the pale of mist.
I name this mountain after him.
That rocks.
This is my story both humble and true,
Take it to pieces and mend it with glue.
- John Lennon, 1969
Take it to pieces and mend it with glue.
- John Lennon, 1969
-
happening fish
- Oskar Winner: 2006
- Posts: 17934
- Joined: 3/17/2002, 11:22 am