Tag Archives: poetry

The Rain

All night the sound had
come back again,
and again falls
this quiet, persistent rain.

What am I to myself
that must be remembered,
insisted upon
so often? Is it

that never the ease,
even the hardness,
of rain falling
will have for me

something other than this,
something not so insistent—
am I to be locked in this
final uneasiness.

Love, if you love me,
lie next to me.
Be for me, like rain,
the getting out

of the tiredness, the fatuousness, the semi-
lust of intentional indifference.
Be wet
with a decent happiness.

By Robert Creeley from Selected Poems of Robert Creeley.

Only Leonard Cohen could speak about love like this.

When I Uncovered Your Body
When I uncovered your body
I thought shadows fell deceptively,
urging memories of perfect rhyme.
I thought I could bestow beauty
like a benediction and that your half-dark flesh
would answer to the prayer.
I thought I understood your face
because I had seen it painted twice
or a hundred times, or kissed it
when it was carved in stone.

With only a breath, a vague turning,
you uncovered shadows
more deftly than I had flesh,
and the real and violent proportions of your body
made obsolete old treaties of excellence,
measures and poems,
and clamoured with a single challenge of personal beauty,
which cannot be interpreted or praised:
it must be met.

Excerpted from FIFTEEN POEMS by Leonard Cohen

silken viscera

effulgent in the moonlight

perfect on wheat toast

Apparently hunting in a freezing rain inspires dear Bubo. Perhaps this will cure any blues you have today.

Bubo’s poetry always cures my blues.

Moonlight, I thank thee.

You butter my wings with glow

And make my flights sing.

(This is one of dear Bubo’s haiku. I shall publish more as she allows.)