Sincerely, L. Cohen

• 2012-01-04

  pulvis et umbra

  First poem I’ve written in awhile. Enjoy.

  oh, the things you sense in shade

  when the day’s radiance has long slipped

  and a tiny child speaks with a tiny god

  all the crowds

  are endless

  and their eyes

  shine black

  like river stones

  he murmurs

  the headlights sense blind

  bending with dips in the pavement

  like a soft hand feeling the curve of her back

  those young lovers lost in darkness

  lo, how they seem to hold the infinite

  yet awake, wet with more venom than honey

  the artists in deep worlds of isolation

  howling and scraping for the omnipresent answer

  the silence comes, immediate and profound

  you may stroke your own smooth hand

  or stretch further to embrace yourself

  the tree limbs grope like telephone wires

  the moon is a lost quarry rock calling out

  for you to stretch in its rays for a chance

  and return to the molded clay from whence you first came

  these things you sense in shade

• 2011-12-18

  

  thankyoubrooklyn:

  tis the season

  Source: hollyhocksandtulips

• 2011-09-03

  

  flowerscrackconcrete:

  Kim Gordon designing the cover of Daydream Nation at Greene Street studios

  Source: flowerscrackconcrete

• 2011-09-01

  

  gq:

  Behind the Scenes Photos of Patti Smith

  Photo by Robert Mapplethorpe.

  (via pitchfork)

  Source: TIME

• →

  

  crystalline

  tonight we walk upon the earthen ice

  pure and radiant is the water beneath

  I press soft with heel

  and

  we sink

  slow

  yet swift

  with each covered kick

  as through the finest sieve

  time is halved and spaceair

  clings

  weighted

  proportion and perception

  drift

  away in the nightstirring

  I cannot touch you

  the warmth

  sudden

   so pleasant

  to make all those

  that witness this depth

  weep mist

  our Mother’s crystal womb

• 2011-08-18

  a dream

  by Edgar Allen Poe (1827)   

      In visions of the dark night 
      I have dreamed of joy departed- 
      But a waking dream of life and light 
      Hath left me broken-hearted. 
  
  
      Ah! what is not a dream by day 
      To him whose eyes are cast 
      On things around him with a ray 
      Turned back upon the past? 
  
  
      That holy dream- that holy dream, 
      While all the world were chiding, 
      Hath cheered me as a lovely beam 
      A lonely spirit guiding. 
  
  
      What though that light, thro’ storm and night, 
      So trembled from afar- 
      What could there be more purely bright 
      In Truth’s day-star?

• 2011-08-08

  

  My new favorite film. I’m such a sucker for vignettes, American nostalgia, and Japanese couples that smoke and obsess over music.

• 2011-07-06

  Anonymous asked: If you had to live in another country, which would it be?

  France. I’ve studied the language for a cumulated seven years of my life and I’ve been in love with Paris for equally as long.

• 2011-06-14

  Summer Goals

  Because I know you all really care, here are my goals for this summer:

  1. Learn to play the guitar. Even if only a few chords.

  2. Learn basic chords on the piano.

  3. Fall back in love with writing. Scrap a million poems and start anew. Discover a more mature form of inspiration than nature.

  4. Finally get my fucking driver’s license. 

  5. Go on more solo San Francisco day trips. Learn to assign emotions to places that only come from being alone with your thoughts.

  6. Read all the books I’ve ever bought at City Lights, Green Apple, Aardvark, and SLO thrift stores and thereby teach myself that owning a specific famous title means nothing if you have not actually read it.

  7. Find “my” coffee shop.

  8. Become friends with a stranger in said coffee shop.

  9. Complete all the activities from the post-high school summer To-Do list I made with Katie and Michele.

  10. Smoke a ton.

  11. Stop smoking. 

  12. Learn to use my Grandfather’s Nikon FE camera.

  13. Learn to use my own Nikon D40 DSLR and stop being a lazy poser.

  14. Paint more. Struggle and go see some real works of art in a museum. Marvel and feel insignificant.

  15. Increase my ratio of watch-add movies on Netflix to 2:1.

  16. Go back to my high school and see if the awkward feeling of indigestion has subsided. Finally give my senior year English teacher that bottle of Merlot I promised him.

  17. Write a short story.

  18. Get my vocal strength back by singing every day.

• 2011-04-28

  Still Ill?

  Life is still draining and utterly exhausting. I am still ever-restless as a bride on her wedding day, coming up with ideas to completely scrap my life as I know it, jump on a bus and start over in a foreign place. I’m still a true melancholy, drinking my earl grey and gazing thoughtfully out the window on foggy mornings in a sweater. I don’t think that will ever change. But just recently I’ve noticed that I’ve stopped obsessing over The Smiths. Part of me is wary of this change, part of me wonders whether it’s some sort of breakthrough in my self-isolation. I no longer spend hours trying to make myself sadder than I already am or trying to put myself in the mindset of a wronged lover, just to feel intense emotion, to justify my existence in some perverse way. Have I finally, unintentionally, mystically grown a life? Or at least grown a better, healthier understanding of how to process my life? I hope to god so. I will always love The Smiths and be their devotee, whether I’m crying myself to sleep in their tee-shirts or not. But I really need to be at a point in my life where I no longer justify my mistakes, apprehensions, shyness, and self-isolation with the media.