Photo: cbsnews.com
“This society eliminates geographical distance only to produce a new internal separation.” Guy Debord
I wandered the streets for a while
soaking up the juice like bread,
I searched for a language,
looking for sounds of hope,
but all the energy was darkness
a cloud of hate reigning,
so many assassin words
that fell into my flesh,
feeling my bones,
I hastened home
a foreigner.
©Paul Vincent Cannon
Paul, pvcann.com.
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Zen, Meditations, Poetry
Advertising,Alternative Energy,Aquarium, Astrology, Astronomy, Auctions, Ballet, Ballroom Dancing
musings of a psychedelic punk rock renaissance yogini and late-blooming athlete
Sharing Sights and Sounds, Words and Wonder
Watch The Outer Space Moon and Stars
Poetry with Attitude & Gratitude! Explore, Enquire, Examine.
Just another WordPress.com site
Capturing the wonders of nature and people through photography and acylic painting
A los que traspasan muros y fronteras.
Bloggeur , Designe et Sociologue
komalblogging
Fashion . Lifestyle . Beauty . Travel . Conscious Living
Memorable Figures
Words written when connected with God
Food, nature, stories, and more. . .
Your easy guide to easy life!
baking, cooking and preserving
This is ambiguous enough to be you a stranger in your own country or a foreign country. Well done.
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Absolutely, spot on Pat. And thank you.
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Darkness is doing its best to consume the light in so many ways.
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Yes, it is just as you say, but light always shines through.
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Fortunately so.
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For me, this is a poem about the power of language: for good and for ill:
I searched for a language,
looking for sounds of hope.
Language doesn’t just reflect reality. It also shapes it.
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Yes, I firmly believe that, words as metaphor, as Jung taught metaphor or archetype are embodied, so too words. Thank you for sharing your insights Liz.
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Beautifully expressed, Paul. It sums up how I felt yesterday when the United States Senate voted to acquit Trump. I don’t recognize my country.
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I gather it has been devastating for many, I wonder that so many of us are foreigners in our own land, On one hand I find it sad, on another I have begun to see a way through. I hope you find a way through.
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Ain’t we all becoming foreigners in our own country! Well said, Paul.
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Yes, I wonder that some of us are being kicked out of the nest of national pride and freed to be global citizens? Thank you Punam.
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I guess that would be a better way to look at it. My pleasure.
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🙂
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Reblogged this on The Reluctant Poet.
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Many thanks Charles
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Happy to share it, Paul!
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So true. I love the reference to language. The search for a language that gives hope. Thank you Paul, for the deep thoughts. Michael
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My pleasure Michael
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Powerful poem
>
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Many thanks.
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