
“Poetry is language at its most distilled and most powerful.” Rita Dove
My Bouquet To reverence language in these days of chalk filled mouths and cloth headed buffoons, is but a minor victory which sustains me through the endless torment of tortured language, which falls away from me as I hold my bouquet of words to the sky, and intone my feelings to the birds of the air. Copyright 2021 ©Paul Vincent Cannon All Rights Reserved ®
Might as well speak to the birds, the rest are all too flighty, it seems.
LikeLiked by 3 people
Good one, VJ.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Too true VJ 🙂 yes indeed.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Feelings intoned go to birds of Mind actually, as they are powerful!
LikeLiked by 2 people
I would very much agree Datta.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I will continue to reverence language, despite the monkey-chatter of the cloth-headed buffoons.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Yes, I’m with you Liz.
LikeLiked by 1 person
🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Rich powerful words, Paul, that permit and enable.
I particularly flinch at ‘chalk-filled mouths’, as in over-didactic educationalists… Wondering what ‘falls away’: the victory, the sustaining or the tormenting/ torture?
Or my pedantry….?!
LikeLiked by 1 person
O, that I get, I have been in that place, gah! What falls away for me is the anger and frustration the desire to force the change.
LikeLike
Language is a wonderful gift that serves us on many different occasions! It can also be misused and abused. That is the downside!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Very much so Cheryl.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Reblogged this on The Reluctant Poet.
LikeLike
🙂
LikeLike