Thread: Leonard Cohen

Leonard Cohen

It's four in the morning
and I'm listening to L. Cohen
outside of the library. I may
have never been to New York City
but for a few minutes I like to
think that I'm there listening
to his music float up from
Clinton street. I light
a cigarette and pretend
that I'm a bitter poet
who could care less if
you are taking photos
of me-preferably in
black and white, please-
for another magazine interview.
"I like his music but I
wouldn't consider him an
influence," I would say
between long thoughtful drags
of my cigarette perched
cooly between my lips,
"and besides, he's a little
bit too mainstream for me,
you know?"
A passing breeze kicks
the smoke back into
my eyes and I jerk my head,
along with my headphones
and my laptop, away,
shattering my coolness
into a thousand flakes
of ember.

Being that I am a Leonard Cohen fan, and also quite familiar with humility, I liked this.

too mainstream for me XD

Very cool! I had to go check out Cohen. I hate to display my ignorance but i've not heard of him before. I like his music so far.

Loved the end!

shattering my coolness
into a thousand flakes
of ember.

That is such a cool way to describe the loss of coolness.

You've perfectly portrayed that sensation of being more than you are. It's like an opaque mirror that shatters and your back to reality.

Thank you!
I'm pretty much referencing the song "Famous Blue Raincoat" in the beginning of this poem.

Very nice, Hinducow.

I really liked the way in which you mirrored Famous Blue Raincoat right down to the L. Cohen, great work here!

Satie, now Cohen... Big fan. First a bit about Leonard before I address your poem. I see him as a poet first. I have his book of poetry titled "The Spice-Box and the Earth". Worthwhile, looking into. Here, one of my favorites of his. The perect writer's poem!

I Wonder How Many People in this City

I wonder how many people in this city
live in furnished rooms.
Late at night when I look out at the buildings
I swear I see a face in the window
looking back at me,
and I wonder how many people go back to their desks
and write this down.

It's four in the morning
and I'm listening to L. Cohen
outside of the library.

I would eliminate "L." before Cohen. Why would the narrator be outside at night in front of a library listening to Cohen? I think there should be some kind of background to give me a hint as to why?

I'm a bitter poet
who could care less if
you are taking photos
of me-preferably in
black and white, please-
for another magazine interview

I like "I am a bitter poet" The rest I can see as being Cohen's attitude!

A passing breeze kicks
the smoke back into
my eyes

I'm not sure if "kicks" is the best word. Nothing comes to mind for a suggestion right now but you might want to give this some thought. The imagery seems awkard in that a "breeze kicking" might be stretching it too far.

A great poem. More! Laurie