On Rage.

I’m furious this afternoon. Too furious to write, too furious to speak.

So I just went and googled “Leonard Cohen on rage” and happened upon this poem written by a J. Hillenburg, posted on the leonardcohenforum.com

It’s good.

And perfect for today.

All the Rage.

I knew it was useless to talk to you,

what’s said has been said, I don’t see a lot left.

Everyone knows your name, God knows what you’ll do

to smear and distort yourself until your last breath.

You’ll answer for everything, of that I have no doubt,

and you will be the only casualty of the war you wage.

Whatever you do, I’m sure you’ll find a way out,

and whatever you think or say will be all the rage.

You claimed to take responsibility, was willing to pay the price,

but when it was time to come through, you were nowhere to be found.

All these destinies lay here before you, and it is your choice;

I swear to any God left I won’t stop you, or make a sound.

Then you’ll come to me through this door to the past,

and make amends for every diversion that left me enraged.

Whatever you do, I know you believe it’s just another burden you’ve passed

only on the basis of what you told them, because you were all the rage.

See me where the river melds with our voices, raises our spirits,

and where truth is every dream our mutual journeys go unto.

I remember you as you once were, I have a vision and you must hear it

as it shines across endless barriers of smoke that life travels through.

Finally there will come a moment, a tragedy, a song, word,

then we will be free of this cheap madness, this tawdry stage.

You’ll know me as I’ve tried to be, and I’ll pretend I never heard

a thing about what you got away with when you were all the rage.



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