Book of Longing
#CanadianWriters
Out of the thousands who are known or want to be known… maybe one or two are genuine and the rest are fakes, hanging around the sacred precinct…
1. You came to me this morning And you handled me like meat. You´d have to live alone to know How good that feels, how sweet. My mirror twin, my next of kin,
I loved you in the morning, our ki… your hair upon the pillow like a s… yes, many loved before us, I know… in city and in forest they smiled… but now it’s come to distances and…
It’s true that all the men you kne… who said they were through with de… Every time you gave them shelter I know that kind of man It’s hard to hold the hand of anyo…
Well my friends are gone and my ha… I ache in the places where I used… And I’m crazy for love but I’m no… I’m just paying my rent every day Oh in the Tower of Song
Give me back my broken night my mirrored room, my secret life it’s lonely here, there’s no one left to torture Give me absolute control
Everybody knows that the dice are… Everybody rolls with their fingers… Everybody knows that the war is ov… Everybody knows the good guys lost Everybody knows the fight was fixe…
When they poured across the border I was cautioned to surrender, this I could not do; I took my gun and vanished. I have changed my name so often,
Suzanne takes you down to her place near the river you can hear the boats go by you can spend the night beside her And you know she’s half crazy
Suddenly the night has grown colde… The god of love preparing to depar… Alexandra hoisted on his shoulder, They slip between the sentries of… Upheld by the simplicities of plea…
Dance me to your beauty with a bur… Dance me through the panic 'til I… Lift me like an olive branch and b… Dance me to the end of love Dance me to the end of love
And who by fire, who by water, who in the sunshine, who in the ni… who by high ordeal, who by common… who in your merry merry month of m… who by very slow decay,
One by one, the guests arrive The guests are coming through The open-hearted many The broken-hearted few And no one knows where the night i…
Poetry is just the evidence of lif…
Come over to the window, my little… I’d like to try to read your palm. I used to think I was some kind o… before I let you take me home. Now so long, Marianne, it’s time…