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“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.
Filed under community, Free Verse, life, poem, quote
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Sanity comes from stability
Witness What Happens When A Ghalib Loving Psychologist Who Doubles As A Hindi Kaviyatri And Raconteur Sits Down Over A Cup Of Coffee And Coelho By Her Side To Converse About Art, Love, Faith, Philosophy And The Journey Called Life! You're Invited!
Wherever words take me
Just another WordPress.com weblog
reviewing classics and book adaptations. selling Jane Austen bookmarks. bookish Georgian-Regency literary page to screen
Blogs by Klien Rai
Entre étang et ruisseaux, vivaces, rosiers, hydrangeas...
Bringing Happiness to Your Home
Culture and Mythology of the Proto-Indo-Europeans.
express yourself, don't look back
Life is the most beautiful journey that we all have in common so enjoy it....it's worth living😊
The Poetry Blog
Is there no way out of the mind?
the astir musings
www.stacieamelia.com
Confessions of Life Changing Freak
...inspiration through words...
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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