“The stranger and the poet song”
The stranger and Poet song
A Poem by Coyote Poetry
Leonard Cohen song gave me reasons to write this morning.
Houses built on sand will sink. Love built on false hope will not endure. Desperate love, passionate love is just released for the sake of the body and not the heart. Just fragments of what love that could be?
Pretty woman receded into sadness and she told her lover. Turbulent waters know no peace. Perverse need and want become just enough. Are we all destined to undress into the need of the flesh? Can love dead be revived?
Betrayal and abandonment leave delicate heart shattered and hollow. Deny love is safe love. Savage and desperate love replace nuptial bliss and no restrains.
A stranger and old Poet bought the sad pretty lady a cold draft beer and some good whiskey. He told her. You must discard the past. The irony of love can be cold and fair. Locked doors and hearts died alone. Better to open new doors and go slow and easy.
Love and need concealed become cancer. Anger, we cannot control can make lay in shallow graves waiting for our last breath. We must recede back to when we were babies in love. Love was life and life was love. You must take down the veil of fear and disappointment. Learn to rejoice in the kiss and the long embrace. Dead in heart cannot know the presence of love when blinded.
Pretty lady drank her whiskey and looked into the Poet’s eyes and she asked.You talk the talk. Do you walk the walk? You sit here alone with your beer and whiskey. A stranger and Poet with pen and paper. I see your dead eyes and how you embrace the shot of the whiskey. You give the great lecture. Do you believe your words?
The Poet reached over and he kissed her forehead, face cheeks and lips. He told her as his hands flowed though her long auburn hair and looked into beautiful brown eyes. Maybe I was trying to provoke myself my pretty friend. Let me buy another whiskey for us and maybe we can find hope and some laughter. Love gone wrong must be replaced. New love killed the pain of old misery.
She smiled and she told him. I like your Johnnie. You are not a liar. You are a straight shooter. Always better to begin a new story without lies.