Monthly Archives: Jan 2013


“Stars, stars! And all eyes else dead coals.” (The Winter’s Tale by William Shakespeare)


There are stars swimming in your eyes,

A pooled lantern that never dies;

Spreading a warmth on the soil

Of life, the dust always loyal.


Yet the need for colour lives on,

For too soon days fade and are gone;

I pluck the hairs that hide the pulse

In search of love to bridge the gulf.


And while earth unfurls her beauty

In all seasons where we drink tea,

I stay smitten, ardent lover,

Stellar-stunned as you uncover.



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A Simple Philosophy

I love to smile sadness away,

The gloomy shroud that clouds the mind

And feel again sweet lightness stay,

Resting awhile and laughter bind.

Why let sorrow splinter the day

Brighter is life when we unwind?

Arise, arise, wipe away tears

It is time to shed baseless fears.


I love to dance without a care,

It feels so good tickling the soul;

A riot of wind in the hair

Hoisted up from a darkened hole.

What sights pulse when the mind can stare

At endless joy in days’ rich bowl?

Ripened fruits wait to be eaten

This wild show cannot be beaten.


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Passing Time

Sitting still at my desk,

Snow blanketing the grass;

How quick these hours do pass

And the clouds spurning rest.


So fast does mankind spin

Lurching from war to war;

Rape and spoil to the core,

Yet earth will always win.


Light comes, in a shower

Flushing out rotten ills,

And the false cheer that kills.

In us lies the power.

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Striding the weathered ridge

With nothing for company

Except the sky and earth

How simple life is

Pure reinless stage

But drinking in the view

A brew that warms the mind

Love spills in the wind

Yet we fail to see it.

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The Force of Love

Love is a force that never sleeps

Love keeps life burning on the sea

Love unshackles the hardened key

Love is a bloom the kind hand reaps


Love gives and gets in sweetened grace

Love undoes sorrows of the past

Love swells fast the hunger-filled mast

Love feathers the fraught forlorn face


Love links the gestures to be read

Love winds the spring spinning the heart

Love leaps far from a fragile start

Love is the warmth of tea in bed.

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Leonard Cohen: He’s Your Man


Listening to a song by Leonard Cohen or reading a line of his verse is a deeply immersive experience – enchanting and enlightening in equal measure – suffused with wisdom and grace, witty and subversive. This biography has a similar feel. Sylvie Simmons’ thoroughly-researched paean to the “Bard of Montreal” is steeped in admiration for her subject; the writing flows effortlessly and the reader will quickly become absorbed in the diverse tapestry of Cohen’s life; the rich Jewish-Canadian/Russian/Lithuanian heritage, the influences, the environment etc. There are plenty of revelations – so much so that as I read, not only did I think Cohen’s place as one of the most compelling figures of culture, music and poetry of the 20th/21st centuries is lucidly re-affirmed but his life brings to mind a line by Albert Camus, on the nature of personality and self, “We continuously shape our personality all our lives.”

Simmons is especially good at highlighting the themes that run like constant refrains in the fabric of Cohen’s life and work; sex, love, relationships, religion, depression, power, compassion etc. whilst accentuating what is, perhaps, his most salient trait: his resilience, “Leonard was a lover, but when it comes to survival he was also a fighter.” At times, it feels like there is a sense of destiny to Cohen’s actions, a knowingness laced with humility; anyone who has had the fortune to see Cohen perform live will testify to this. The blend of intelligence and humour is palpable, the mix of power and vulnerability hugely magnetic. Somehow, it feels no surprise that the flaneur who walked the streets of Montreal as a young man, questing for knowledge and fresh experiences would always end up as a legendary troubadour, displaying his gifts of observation and insights – about the great issues of life – to the world. His avenue? The open road of the globe.

The infectiousness that Sylvie Simmons has for Cohen shines out so much that one wonders whether she hasn’t been mesmerised by his fabled hypnotic powers. She is equally good at showing what makes Cohen tick as a man and as an artist. Yes, she is a fan but she writes with great skill and sensibility, “the great songs, the ones that keep drawing us back again and again are mysteries.” In many ways, Cohen’s output can best be described as a type of “assisted living”. Like Samuel Johnson’s perceptive quote on writing that it “enable[s] the reader better to enjoy life, or better to endure”, Cohen’s songs have a similar pull. Or, as a fan from Cohen’s tour in 1974 starkly puts it, “I was suicidal and I put on one of your records and you saved me.”

For many, this book will just confirm what Leonard Cohen already is in their eyes: a man blessed with a singular talent for poetry, lyricism and songwriting. The eloquence and compassion – central elements of his character- are manifest. As ex-lover and fiancée Rebecca de Mornay articulates, “he is so fully present, with compassion for the underdog, as well as genuine compassion for the enemy – which is very hard to do and hard-won.” Perhaps the greatest accomplishment of this terrific biography is that Simmons has unshackled Cohen from “banal” stereotypes that have attached themselves to Cohen over the years, like hackneyed labels which have become threadbare through repetition, and presented a rounded portrait of a highly sensitive, charismatic and intelligent man, whose greatest gifts have been for language and distilling experiences with a finesse of expression. In a nutshell, the opening line of this biography captures the essence of the man perfectly, “He is a courtly man, elegant, with old-world manners.” This is the kind of the book that will make readers want to rush out and grab some of Leonard Cohen’s books or listen to the albums. There can be no greater tribute.

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Reading in Bed

Reading in bed

Is comforting

Like a thick duvet

Soft and soothing

Spreading warmth.

Before long

Words slip and slide

Dip and dive

Straining the eyes

A splendid soporific


The plot loosens

Drifting off

Sinking deep

Into the

Gladdening glow

Of sleep.

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