Monday, July 23, 2007

When Is A Poem Not A Poem?


Dear Dead Beat, when is a poem not a poem?


Confused.




Dear Confused,




when it is a song by Leonar Cohen:




Stranger Song




It's true that all the men you knew were dealers


who said they were through with dealing


Every time you gave them shelter


I know that kind of man


It's hard to hold the hand of anyone


who is reaching for the sky just to surrender,


who is reaching for the sky just to surrender.




And then sweeping up the jokers that he left behind


you find he did not leave you very much


not even laughter


Like any dealer he was watching for the card


that is so high and wild he'll never need to deal another


He was just some Joseph looking for a manger


He was just some Joseph looking for a manger




And then leaning on your window sill


he'll say one day you caused his will


to weaken with your love and warmth and shelter


And then taking from his wallet an old schedule of trains, he'll say


I told you when I came I was a stranger


I told you when I came I was a stranger.




But now another stranger seems


to want you to ignore his dreams


as though they were the burden of some other


O you've seen that man before


his golden arm dispatching cards


but now it's rusted from the elbows to the finger


And he wants to trade the game he plays for shelter


Yes he wants to trade the game he knows for shelter.




Ah you hate to see another tired man


lay down his hand


like he was giving up the holy game of poker


And while he talks his dreams to sleep


you notice there's a highway


that is curling up like smoke above his shoulder.


It is curling just like smoke above his shoulder.




You tell him to come in sit down


but something makes you turn around


The door is open you can't close your shelter


You try the handle of the road


It opens do not be afraid


It's you my love, you who are the stranger


It's you my love, you who are the stranger.




Well, I've been waiting, I was sure


we'd meet between the trains we're waiting for


I think it's time to board another


Please understand, I never had a secret chart


to get me to the heart of this


or any other matter


When he talks like this you don't know what he's after


When he speaks like this, you don't know what he's after.




Let's meet tomorrow if you choose


upon the shore, beneath the bridge


that they are building on some endless river


Then he leaves the platform


for the sleeping car that's warm


You realize, he's only advertising one more shelter


And it comes to you, he never was a stranger


And you say ok the bridge or someplace later.




And then sweeping up the jokers that he left behind


you find he did not leave you very much not even laughter


Like any dealer he was watching for the card


that is so high and wild he'll never need to deal another


He was just some Joseph looking for a manger


He was just some Joseph looking for a manger




And then leaning on your window sill


he'll say one day you caused his will


to weaken with your love and warmth and shelter


And then taking from his wallet an old schedule of trains,


he'll say I told you when I came I was a stranger


I told you when I came I was a stranger.


.

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