The Art of the Craft

Collins vs. Cohen corrupted by Kemp
The Art of the Craft

I ask them to take a poem
and hold it up to the light
like a color slide
Or press an ear against its hive.

I am this thing that needs to sing
I love to sing
To my beloved´s other thing
And to my own dear God

I am the muse who sweeps the mind
In search of words
And oft ´tis true I´ll find

I say drop a mouse into a poem
and watch him probe his way out,
or walk inside the poem’s room
and feel the walls for a light switch.

I want to crawl on my knees
Off a high cliff
And sail around singing
In the wind

I want to fill your heart with love
I dream of you dreaming of me
Until the sands of time run out

I am this thing that wants to sing
When I am up against the spit
And scorn of judges

But all they want to do
is tie the poem to a chair with rope
and torture a confession out of it.

I need to write I need to sing
I yearn and stretch across the void
And hope you find, I hope you fall
In love into the poem
Billy Collins
Leonard Cohen
& Iain D. Kemp

Can you tell which bit is which?



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