black
grey
blue
red
brown
white

Ordinary eternal machinery, like the grinding of the stars.

Leonard Cohen

Coroner’s inquest: death by drowning. And he hasn’t been to the seashore in ten years.
LEONARD COHEN

Death Sea
We are so lightly here. It is in love that we are made. In love we disappear.
LEONARD COHEN

Disappear Light Love Philosophy
I guess that I miss you, I guess I forgive you, I’m glad you stood in my way.
LEONARD COHEN

Forgiveness Happiness I Miss You Myself
To kiss her there was to intrude into something private and skeletal, like a turtle’s shoulder.
LEONARD COHEN

Herself Kiss
It is easy to display a wound, the proud scars of combat. It is hard to show a pimple.
LEONARD COHEN

Easy Scars Wound
I found that things became a lot easier when I no longer expected to win. You abandon your masterpiece and sink into the real masterpiece.
LEONARD COHEN

Easy Expectation Myself Reality
It’s time that we began to laugh and cry and cry and laugh about it all again.
LEONARD COHEN

Beginning Laugh Time
Love is not a victory march it’s a cold and it’s a broken hallelujah.
LEONARD COHEN

Break Up Deep Love Victory
He knew that hair couldn’t feel; he kissed her hair.
LEONARD COHEN

Feeling Hairs Himself
I’ve forgotten most of what I’ve read and, frankly, it never seemed very important to me or to the world.
LEONARD COHEN

Forget Important Myself Reading World
And everything depends upon how near you sleep to me.
LEONARD COHEN

Myself Relationship Sex Yourself
We are not mad. We are human. We want to love, and someone must forgive us for the paths we take to love, for the paths are many and dark, and we are ardent and cruel in our journey.
LEONARD COHEN

Darkness Forgiveness Human Journey Love Mad Ourselves Path
You live your life as if it’s real, a thousand kisses deep.
LEONARD COHEN

Kiss Life Live Reality Yourself
I don’t consider myself a pessimist. I think of a pessimist as someone who is waiting for it to rain. And I feel soaked to the skin.
LEONARD COHEN

Feeling Myself Rain Skin Wait
Blessed are you who circled desire with a blade, and the garden with fiery swords, and heaven and earth with a word.
LEONARD COHEN

Blessing Desire Heaven Nature Word
Poetry is a verdict, not an occupation.
LEONARD COHEN

Business Poetry

Ordinary eternal machinery, like the grinding of the stars.

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Ordinary eternal machinery, like the grinding of the stars.

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