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Cori MacNaughton Aug 2015
Summer is waning,
and I'm just now ready for spring.
Cori MacNaughton Aug 2015
Got the New Job Blues
find the politics absurd
but like the paycheck
Cori MacNaughton Aug 2015
Wavering resolve
why is it so difficult
to be kind to self?
Cori MacNaughton Aug 2015
Grief is a cycle
it first recedes, before it
stabs you in the soul
Cori MacNaughton Aug 2015
Hello Poetry!
Hello poets.
Sorry I've been gone so long.
Life intervenes.
Cori MacNaughton Aug 2015
I’ve been your friend for life
not because of what you can give me
but because you bring out
the best that is in me.

6 August 2015
Written on her birthday for my friend Rocky, whom I've known since I was six, and who remains a valued friend to this day.

Happy Birthday, Rocky.

Thank you for your friendship, for being a great example when I needed one, and for helping to make me a much better person than I would have been had I not known you.  I love you.
Cori MacNaughton Aug 2015
Here is the inimitable Jeff Buckley's poem, "My New Year's Eve Prayer," which he performed live at Sin-é in Manhattan, NYC, in 1996.


"You, my love, are allowed to forget
about the Christmas you just spent stressed out in your parents' house.

You, my love, are allowed to shed the weight
of all the years before,
like bad disco clothes.
Save them for a night of dancing ****** with your lover.

You, my love, are allowed to let yourself drown
every night in bottomless wild and naked symbolic dreams.

You, my love, in sleep can unlock your youth
and your most terrifying magic;
and dreaming is for the courageous.

You, my love, are allowed to grab my guitar
and sing me idiot love songs
if you've lost your ability to speak.
Keep it down to two minutes.

You, my love, are allowed to rot and to die
and to live again,
more alive and incandescent than before.

You, my love, are allowed to beat the **** out of your television,
choke it's thoughts and corrupt its mind.
****! ****! ****! **** the *******
before the song of zombiefied pain
and panic and malaise
and it's narrow right-winged vision
and it's cheap commercial gang ****
becomes the white noise of the world.

Turn about is fair play.

You, my love, are allowed to forgive and love your television.

You, my love, are allowed to speak in kisses
to those around you
and those up in heaven.

You, my love, are allowed to show your babies
how to dance full bodied,
starry eyed, audacious, supernatural and glorified.

You, my love, are allowed to **** in every single endeavor.

You, my love, are allowed to be soaked like a lovers' blanket
in the New York summertime
with the wonder of your own special gift.

You, my love, are allowed to receive praise.

You, my love, are allowed to have time.

You, my love, are allowed to understand.

You, my love, are allowed to love.

Woman, disobey,
when little men believe;

You, my love, are Rebellion."
For Hello Poetry user "Jeff Buckley":

While I agree that musician Jeff Buckley's lyrics are poetic, and often reach the level of true poetry, here is one of his actual poems, never set nor intended to be set to music.  

It is a ****** good poem,  touching on a number of subjects near and dear to my heart, which strongly resonates with me.

For the record, I have come only recently to the music of Jeff Buckley, within the past year, through my wonderful and musically adept husband Marek.  Buckley's music has moved me far more than that of most other singer/songwriters, save only for Steven Wilson, Mariusz Duda and Nick Drake.  He and I shared a lot of influences in common, from old 1920s blues and jazz, to pop standards, French music, classical and early British rock and progressive rock.  His first and only studio album released during his lifetime, "Grace," is not to be missed.

Sadly, he drowned at the age of 30, accidentally or otherwise, robbing us all of his incredible gift.  Not only was he an amazing songwriter, but a fine guitarist and, most of all, an incredible vocalist.  He had not only an amazing vocal range, but as mentioned a widely divergent source of influences, lending to some truly transcendent music and lyrics.  

RIP Jeff Buckley.  You are sorely missed.

For those interested in seeing his performance of the poem, which shows what a humble guy he was, you can find it here:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=duoujUI--Mo
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