dVerse Poets – Poetics – Madness 2
Image: https://weburbanist.com
“The cave you fear to enter holds the treasure you seek.” Joseph Campbell
There Are Times
The thin thread of the real
never leaves me,
though it stretches to breaking
and there are times that I must
dissociate awhile
to live in beauty and ponder
the possibility of the good,
to live inside
while outwardly existing amidst
the clouds that presage
an ugliness of life undoing
my existential fortress,
of which I can do little
until it can pass,
it’s a struggle when your
inside is out and your
outside is in.
©Paul Vincent Cannon
Paul, pvcann.com
Another one I can relate to – hooked me from the opening line.
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the inner outer tussle between realities succinctly put together in this poem – love the opening lines
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Laura thank you for your reflection on this, very much appreciated.
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I love the image you chose to go with this post!
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Thank you, I find it challenging to find an image that fits my thoughts, the poems come quickly, but then finding something takes ages, thanks for that.
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Excellent, again 😊
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Many thanks Cheryl 🙂
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Paul, I will remember “when inside is out and outside is in.” So well-put. Also I love how you begin, with “the thin thread of the real never leaves me.” no matter how thin it gets stretched.
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No, and it sure gets thin, I’m sure you’re saying you know this.
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YES
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🙂
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I love you poem Paul and it perfectly matches the photo which looks like 3d art or like optical illusion.
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Yes, it came from an illusion collection site. I was fortunate to find it, it’s hard to fit images in I find, I write then hope to match one.
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You sre super talented Paul.
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Well that is indeed very kind of you Rupali, thank you.
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You really are my most favourite poet, Paul.
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Well, that will be a treasured line in my mind, that is very kind Tracey.
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Wonderful post
🌹❣🌹
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That is so encouraging, thank you Luisa.
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Your poem prompted me to reflect on the fact that I do a pretty good job of keeping the outside out, but then suffer guilt for doing so.
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Tricky, that’s often the hard road, guilt, as it’s on the inside needling away. I’m blown away that my poem enabled reflection like that. Thank you for sharing that.
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