I am starting to miss writing here. Facebook updates just don’t cut it.
The Leonard Cohen concert was absolutely amazing, especially from the front row. At intermission I wrote on FB that “This show is the church at which I worship. And my Hallelujah is still to come.” That’s the kind of stuff I want to remember. The kind of stuff that gets lost in a social networking site where people give each other imaginary gifts for their imaginary towns, until the next fad comes along.
So many, many thoughts came rushing at me during that show. remembrances of things past, observations about things present, questions about what is to come. People who were in my life, who are in my life, who will be in my life, I hope, even though I have yet to meet them. And the eternal always-there point for me: where is home? Where I create it. Where my dog is. But where do I fit in best? Time to move again is approaching, maybe late next year. Someone told me to just settle down already. That this whole moving thing didn’t surprise them because it’s “what I do every 2 years.” And I thought, that is NOT who I am anymore. I would be moving, not running away. If I was running away impulsively I would have already been packed and booked the UHaul. And then I thought, well, what if it IS part of who I am. Nomadic. Gypsy. Maybe that’s how I create my own home. What has felt most like home, always, is being in the audience, watching a musician perform magic on a stage. And that’s part of my gypsy travels. This month. Next month. More if I could afford it.
Cohen and everything he is – unexplainable, amazing. I went to see him because I wanted to see a genius poet before me. He was everything and more. And when he stood there in between songs and simply recited “A Thousand Kisses Deep,” I wept at its beauty.
So, for my own pleasure, for the beauty of words, for the image I still have in my head from Monday:
A Thousand Kisses Deep
The ponies run, the girls are young,
The odds are there to beat.
You win a while, and then it’s done -
Your little winning streak.
And summoned now to deal
With your invincible defeat,
You live your life as if it’s real,
A Thousand Kisses Deep.
I’m turning tricks, I’m getting fixed,
I’m back on Boogie Street.
You lose your grip, and then you slip
Into the Masterpiece.
And maybe I had miles to drive,
And promises to keep:
You ditch it all to stay alive,
A Thousand Kisses Deep.
And sometimes when the night is slow,
The wretched and the meek,
We gather up our hearts and go,
A Thousand Kisses Deep.
Confined to sex, we pressed against
The limits of the sea:
I saw there were no oceans left
For scavengers like me.
I made it to the forward deck
I blessed our remnant fleet -
And then consented to be wrecked,
A Thousand Kisses Deep.
I’m turning tricks, I’m getting fixed,
I’m back on Boogie Street.
I guess they won’t exchange the gifts
That you were meant to keep.
And quiet is the thought of you
The file on you complete,
Except what we forgot to do,
A Thousand Kisses Deep.
And sometimes when the night is slow,
The wretched and the meek,
We gather up our hearts and go,
A Thousand Kisses Deep
