Poetry competition CLOSED 11th June 2024 10:39am
WINNER
Ljdynamic
Ljdynamic
RUNNER-UP:
Betty
Famous blue raincoat
Poetry Contest Description
make an alternate version of this song lyric
For me personally this is one of the most mysterious songs ever written.
What I would like you to do is use this song, write a version of it
So this will require of you that you listen to the song and read through the lyrics. Come up with something , anything, any style though NO EROTICA.
The song is by Leonard Cohen, many have sung it since
I have chosen
a version by
Eivør
https://youtu.be/iMEyZLhq_9U
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
It's four in the morning, the end of December
I'm writing you now just to see if you're better
New York is cold, but I like where I'm living
There's music on Clinton Street all through the evening
I hear that you're building your little house
Deep in the desert
You're living for nothing now
I hope you're keeping some kind of record
Yes, and Jane came by with a lock of your hair
She said that you gave it to her
That night that you planned to go clear
Did you ever go clear?
Ah, the last time we saw you you looked so much older
Your famous blue raincoat was torn at the shoulder
You'd been to the station to meet every train
You came home without Lili Marlene
And you treated my woman
To a flake of your life
And when she came back
She was nobody's wife
Well I see you there with the rose in your teeth
One more thin gypsy thief
Well I see Jane's awake
She sends her regards
And what can I tell you my brother, my killer
What can I possibly say?
I guess that I miss you, I guess I forgive you
I'm glad you stood in my way
If you ever come by here, for Jane or for me
Well your enemy is sleeping, and his woman is free
Yes, and thanks, for the trouble you took from her eyes
I thought it was there for good so I never tried
And Jane came by with a lock of your hair
She said that you gave it to her
That night that you planned to go clear
Sincerely, L. Cohen\all rights reserved
Songwriters: Leonard Cohen. For non-commercial use only.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
ONE month
one poem per poet\person
new poems only
no maximum
minimum about 70 words
title your works
no AI poems
Hello Betty,
Thank you for your entry, much appreciated! However, you will need to revise it though if you wish to send this as an entry.
One of my rules is in competitions I run is no erotica. I wish to challenge people to write other than that. This doesnt have anything to do with your piece though. Its a very good and well written piece all together.
best regards
Rianne
Thank you for your entry, much appreciated! However, you will need to revise it though if you wish to send this as an entry.
One of my rules is in competitions I run is no erotica. I wish to challenge people to write other than that. This doesnt have anything to do with your piece though. Its a very good and well written piece all together.
best regards
Rianne
Warmth of a Blue Raincoat
When I reached out to you
in the early hours of Sunday
you said you were cold and blue
in your place so far away
When the night closed
you reached out to me
you talked about your blue raincoat
that didn’t prevent you getting wet
You said you missed me so
wanted to reconnect like before
your call was interrupted
just like it always did
in the early hours of Sunday
you said you were cold and blue
in your place so far away
When the night closed
you reached out to me
you talked about your blue raincoat
that didn’t prevent you getting wet
You said you missed me so
wanted to reconnect like before
your call was interrupted
just like it always did
Written by Grace
(IDryad)
Go To Page
Fatigues. And your blue raincoat
I stand in my spotless hallway
in a new satin robe
My throat gets
dry when
he’s in fatigues
something about the
way his posture gets
bolder,
and he becomes,
the man that
I wanted to wait for
forever
instead of the man you
wanted last night
He packs his duffle bag
and kisses me
like we weren’t
screwing (up)
other people
because your satin hands
kissed the knife in
my throat,
instead of my back
He twirls a lock of my hair
around his finger and
pretends to memorize
my face for the next
deployment
but he forgot my face
in my bed
in your arms
in your virtuous
audacity that you
always have my back
and I petted your fucking
hair all night,
I kept the cold compress
on the back of your neck
when you were on
your bathroom floor
as the baby you wanted
so.
fucking.
bad.
forced its way
out of your body too early
and I sat with you in the ambulance.
because you didn't have anyone else.
so you called me.
so you called me.
and now I just wonder
if that was my stepson
or stepdaughter
and I wonder
if your aura tastes
like ashes
from all the shit you’ve burned down
and through these years
we all pretend like
we can love
we pretend like the
blue robes we wear aren’t
threadbare raincoat knockoffs
But I have a crooning waltz in the background
and you have a boozegut
and a man who hits you
on nights we used to
go out for margaritas.
But you go on, girl.
Find your new life.
Because I'm still here.
and his duffle bag hits the floor
of my spotless hallway
and I meet him at the
door like a World War II hero
in Times Square
Tonight I’ll stare at the ceiling.
We all lost everything
and I wonder how
I could have loved you
both enough
to let it
still
ache.
I stand in my spotless hallway
in a new satin robe
My throat gets
dry when
he’s in fatigues
something about the
way his posture gets
bolder,
and he becomes,
the man that
I wanted to wait for
forever
instead of the man you
wanted last night
He packs his duffle bag
and kisses me
like we weren’t
screwing (up)
other people
because your satin hands
kissed the knife in
my throat,
instead of my back
He twirls a lock of my hair
around his finger and
pretends to memorize
my face for the next
deployment
but he forgot my face
in my bed
in your arms
in your virtuous
audacity that you
always have my back
and I petted your fucking
hair all night,
I kept the cold compress
on the back of your neck
when you were on
your bathroom floor
as the baby you wanted
so.
fucking.
bad.
forced its way
out of your body too early
and I sat with you in the ambulance.
because you didn't have anyone else.
so you called me.
so you called me.
and now I just wonder
if that was my stepson
or stepdaughter
and I wonder
if your aura tastes
like ashes
from all the shit you’ve burned down
and through these years
we all pretend like
we can love
we pretend like the
blue robes we wear aren’t
threadbare raincoat knockoffs
But I have a crooning waltz in the background
and you have a boozegut
and a man who hits you
on nights we used to
go out for margaritas.
But you go on, girl.
Find your new life.
Because I'm still here.
and his duffle bag hits the floor
of my spotless hallway
and I meet him at the
door like a World War II hero
in Times Square
Tonight I’ll stare at the ceiling.
We all lost everything
and I wonder how
I could have loved you
both enough
to let it
still
ache.
Anonymous
Related submission no longer exists.
Recapturing
Christmas has passed,
and the new year approaches.
I encroach upon you
with a belated text.
The pretext is the weather
to remind you
of everything we have been through.
The snow was our serenity.
Snowflakes fall, and I
want you to know that I walk
for blocks in the symphony
of the busy streets alone.
I have a bittersweet
but upbeat feeling reading your reply.
You have established roots
where it does not snow.
Still, I hope the fruits of your labor
are savored and receive water from the oasis.
I hope you have traced a map
and taken snapshots
to keep track of your adventures.
He and I were deeply hurt
when you decided to venture off.
Leaving us divided
in the wake of a decision hastily made.
Your faded eyes expressed
how you crashed that night.
You could not suppress the ache
of confronting your past.
The last time we saw you,
you needed to regain focus.
Will you discuss
the wisdom you have gathered?
Show me some signs
that you have found a path
and that the wrath
has not shattered your soul.
You seem in control,
yet you have not let go
of the garment, now crestfallen,
that I gave you decades ago.
Tattered over time, callin' in,
to show me your strife.
At least tell me life has not taken
your mind far away from here.
Since being awakened,
the look on your face has been sorrowful.
I bought you a vase, but you returned
without your favorite flower.
Somehow the hours came and went,
and you cut the thorns from my rose.
I suppose you shared a moment,
creating this path of destruction,
and the introduction of a free man
came through the door.
Smug and bold in your expression,
your impressions as a grifter
start to imprint into this moment.
He cannot recognize you;
he squints as he glares,
yet fair advice is offered
from his caring heart.
I take notes and start to wonder
what words I could say to the antagonist.
Far beyond the midst of thoughts
and I am still rendered speechless.
Nevertheless, my once close friend,
you have my forgiveness
because secretly, I feel blessed
I could not fulfill my plans.
Lifetimes may span,
but if you ever find yourself close by,
come in and engross yourself in a friendship.
The ships have sailed,
so let the rivalry rest
and watch him fly like a bird.
It is absurd how you dissolved
the sadness behind his stare.
I swear I never figured out
how to ease his pain, so I left it.
Moonlit souls were damaged
in the wake of a decision hastily made.
Your faded eyes expressed
how you crashed that night.
You could not suppress the ache
of confronting your past.
The last time we saw you,
you needed to regain focus.
Did you drain the guilt
flowing through your veins?
and the new year approaches.
I encroach upon you
with a belated text.
The pretext is the weather
to remind you
of everything we have been through.
The snow was our serenity.
Snowflakes fall, and I
want you to know that I walk
for blocks in the symphony
of the busy streets alone.
I have a bittersweet
but upbeat feeling reading your reply.
You have established roots
where it does not snow.
Still, I hope the fruits of your labor
are savored and receive water from the oasis.
I hope you have traced a map
and taken snapshots
to keep track of your adventures.
He and I were deeply hurt
when you decided to venture off.
Leaving us divided
in the wake of a decision hastily made.
Your faded eyes expressed
how you crashed that night.
You could not suppress the ache
of confronting your past.
The last time we saw you,
you needed to regain focus.
Will you discuss
the wisdom you have gathered?
Show me some signs
that you have found a path
and that the wrath
has not shattered your soul.
You seem in control,
yet you have not let go
of the garment, now crestfallen,
that I gave you decades ago.
Tattered over time, callin' in,
to show me your strife.
At least tell me life has not taken
your mind far away from here.
Since being awakened,
the look on your face has been sorrowful.
I bought you a vase, but you returned
without your favorite flower.
Somehow the hours came and went,
and you cut the thorns from my rose.
I suppose you shared a moment,
creating this path of destruction,
and the introduction of a free man
came through the door.
Smug and bold in your expression,
your impressions as a grifter
start to imprint into this moment.
He cannot recognize you;
he squints as he glares,
yet fair advice is offered
from his caring heart.
I take notes and start to wonder
what words I could say to the antagonist.
Far beyond the midst of thoughts
and I am still rendered speechless.
Nevertheless, my once close friend,
you have my forgiveness
because secretly, I feel blessed
I could not fulfill my plans.
Lifetimes may span,
but if you ever find yourself close by,
come in and engross yourself in a friendship.
The ships have sailed,
so let the rivalry rest
and watch him fly like a bird.
It is absurd how you dissolved
the sadness behind his stare.
I swear I never figured out
how to ease his pain, so I left it.
Moonlit souls were damaged
in the wake of a decision hastily made.
Your faded eyes expressed
how you crashed that night.
You could not suppress the ache
of confronting your past.
The last time we saw you,
you needed to regain focus.
Did you drain the guilt
flowing through your veins?
Written by Ljdynamic
Go To Page
The Letter
It’s four in the evening, the end of October.
I’m writing you back. I hope that you’re sober.
The desert is hot, but I’ve got a cold heart.
Who’d guess that a pixie could peel us apart.
I hear you stay hammered upstairs in Manhattan.
Jane sends me her selfies in fishnet and satin.
Yeah, and she snorts all of your coke by the sink,
wearing the coat that you tore
the night you had too much to drink,
and you slept on the floor.
The last time I saw her, we made love in Boulder,
nude on the lift. She said New York was colder.
I gave her a gift that she wrapped up in plastic.
She said you flipped out; lost your head in a basket.
She mentioned I stole her like a rose from a vendor,
her heart on my shelf and your balls in a blender.
Well, I saw her blades spinning
right from the beginning,
Well, your woman’s awake,
no use in pretending.
She said I was just a mistake.
A part of you died when she slipped me inside,
and the furniture started to quake.
The noise had a razorblade clink
on the floor by the door in the coat that you tore
that night you had too much to drink.
Yeah, she snorts all your coke by the sink.
Sincerely…
I’m writing you back. I hope that you’re sober.
The desert is hot, but I’ve got a cold heart.
Who’d guess that a pixie could peel us apart.
I hear you stay hammered upstairs in Manhattan.
Jane sends me her selfies in fishnet and satin.
Yeah, and she snorts all of your coke by the sink,
wearing the coat that you tore
the night you had too much to drink,
and you slept on the floor.
The last time I saw her, we made love in Boulder,
nude on the lift. She said New York was colder.
I gave her a gift that she wrapped up in plastic.
She said you flipped out; lost your head in a basket.
She mentioned I stole her like a rose from a vendor,
her heart on my shelf and your balls in a blender.
Well, I saw her blades spinning
right from the beginning,
Well, your woman’s awake,
no use in pretending.
She said I was just a mistake.
A part of you died when she slipped me inside,
and the furniture started to quake.
The noise had a razorblade clink
on the floor by the door in the coat that you tore
that night you had too much to drink.
Yeah, she snorts all your coke by the sink.
Sincerely…
Written by DampKitten
Go To Page
I'm writing you back
To say I don't
love you as if
hands glide
smooth over
crushed velvet
or something
perfectly tidied
into little boxes
with neat labels,
I love you like
all creatures
deserve to
be loved
be it working
or going against
a humble grain
I love you in light
and darkness, be
it standing or sitting
without agenda
or trivial issues.
I love you this way
because this is
the only way I
wish to know
because your smile
and laughter is rain
my blue raincoat
always desires to
be soaked in
I love you;
knowing when
I close my eyes
my dreams
turn into your
dreams in the
early hours,
long after
every ache
echoes out
from every
window.
Written by neves
Go To Page
Rain Day
You're the sunshine
That brought the rain
She unfolds the umbrella
The moon has a friend
A daring light
In the clearest days
It's nonstop
Duality
Look for the rainbows
In the horizon
People in raincoats
The sun constantly dividing
Conquering the weak
But for those who overcome
Are left alone
With knowledge
They are the demons.
That brought the rain
She unfolds the umbrella
The moon has a friend
A daring light
In the clearest days
It's nonstop
Duality
Look for the rainbows
In the horizon
People in raincoats
The sun constantly dividing
Conquering the weak
But for those who overcome
Are left alone
With knowledge
They are the demons.
Written by AfterSexDilemma
Go To Page
