My Bouquet – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: OrnaW at

“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 ®


Filed under Free Verse, life, poem, quote

14 responses to “My Bouquet – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

  1. Might as well speak to the birds, the rest are all too flighty, it seems.

    Liked by 3 people

  2. Feelings intoned go to birds of Mind actually, as they are powerful!

    Liked by 2 people

  3. I will continue to reverence language, despite the monkey-chatter of the cloth-headed buffoons.

    Liked by 2 people

  4. 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….?!

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Language is a wonderful gift that serves us on many different occasions! It can also be misused and abused. That is the downside!

    Liked by 1 person

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