My Real Work – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Target – Word of the Day


Photo: everyday


My Real Work

That noise,
why were there bees in the meeting room,
I hadn’t noticed any earlier,
I couldn’t see one
but the subtle drone was persistent,
motions pending, views, visions,
targets to be reached,
all the signs were there
I was on the cusp of a coma,
I drifted off,
departing this dry land of monotony
I mentally drew a caim
and withdrew to my inner sanctuary
where my real work is done.

©Paul Vincent Cannon




Filed under Free Verse, life, mindfulness, poem

38 responses to “My Real Work – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

  1. blindzanygirl

    This is acfantastic take on the word.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Quite painfully true!

    Liked by 1 person

  3. lol all the rest are mere distractions … so grateful that I don’t have to endure meetings anymore … what do they actually achieve?

    Liked by 1 person

  4. reminds me of meetings that had no productivity, just going on and all the words seem meaningless. I usually scribble when I find myself disconnecting. good to retreat into a place where your mind can be active tough the body feels otherwise.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. I know this feeling, oh to be free to write 👍🏻😁

    Liked by 1 person

  6. Sounds like the most productive outcome of any meeting!

    Liked by 1 person

  7. Ha, ha, the dreaded meeting! Now I work for myself there are no more. Whoopee! You catch the drift into ‘drifting off’ beautifully. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  8. Ah, the drone of voices buzzing in the mist of boredom. I remember it well.

    Liked by 2 people

  9. Oh yeah, Paul! So true as sad too. Vaaaaacccaaaannncccyyyy! 🙂 Maybe sometimes a short break will solve too. Michael

    Liked by 1 person

  10. lync56

    Beautiful and so true – the bliss of withdrawing inward


    Liked by 1 person

  11. This absolutely resonates with me! Fantastic piece!

    Liked by 1 person

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