Category Archives: Leonard Cohen

A Cohen Pastiche

In the morning the moon rises In your eyes paler than January skies The cedars are heavy with the snow of our dreams And I tell you that love was never how it seemed And you say that in your … Continue reading

Posted in Art is lies, Art is theft, Cedars, John MacKenzie, Leonard Cohen, New poems, Pastiche, Poem tweets, Poetry, The Moon, The Rain, Winter | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

A Paean, and An Elegy, (Out) of Sorts (poems from old notebooks, May 2002)

This is my Milton Acorn paean. I wrote it because someone claimed that my poem He Kept To Himself, Mostly, which appeared in Sledgehammer, was about Acorn. It wasn’t; that poem was an attempt to imagine the unconscious motivation of … Continue reading

Posted in Art is lies, Art is theft, Consciousness, Creativity, Crows, Death, John MacKenzie, Leonard Cohen, Milton Acorn, Poem tweets, Poems from old notebooks, Poetry | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment