Leonard, You Devil

Tonight, I listened to Terry Gross interview the great poet and songwriter Leonard Cohen on public radio. At 72, the guy's still got it. Terry would ask him some inane question regarding what he was thinking or feeling when he wrote a poem or lyric 30 years ago. Without sounding bored by her inane question or fudging some ridiculous story, and without a trace of animosity in his voice he'd answer that he didn't have any recollection of what he was thinking at that time. And she'd giggle, a very Terry sort of giggle. He charmed her; but then, what woman has escaped the charms of Leonard Cohen? He laughed a lot too, the pithy chuckle only a man of a certain age with many charmed giggles under his belt can produce.

I didn't know he recently spent time in a Buddhist monastery and is an ordained Zen monk. He read a new lyric related to the experience that contained some killer lines. Hearing him read with his wonderful, gravelly voice inspired me. I added his biographical documentary, "I'm Your Man," to my Netflix list, but it's "saved," as it hasn't been released. It looks like a goodie.

Here's my feeble stab at a Cohenesque lyric:

The Western Side of Blue

The sky is fading slowly on the western side of blue,
In rankled ribbons reaching out to hold a lonesome hue.
I guess I wasn't meant to know what it means to be you,
And the time has come to go back home again.

I told myself I'd know the place to write the story's end,
Inside the book of longing for a lover and a friend,
When suddenly there seems to be a funeral to attend,
And the time has come to go back home again.

Home is where reality's dark visions come to roost,
Home is where the dread comes rushing in.
I'm fighting not to take my life to that unholy hour
To hear the slow, indentured hum of self-destructive sin.

Perfecting reinvention has become a dying flame,
To feel the burn is ever more absurd.
I hold my marker close and let the others play the game
While listening for consolation's solitary word.

To approach qualifying as a decent Cohen imitation this would need to resolve itself in several more verses, but I quit at four, as I'm no Leonard Cohen. I'm glad he is.