Word of the Day – Vain
“War does not determine who is right – but only who is left.” Bertrand Russell
Never have the vainglories of death
been so exposed as in the spectre of war
where truth is so relentlessly sucked dry
by the ghouls of righteous capital,
so cheaply purchased by the blood of innocents,
for those who would never near the fight
as to get their morals dirty
nor their boots,
they are the ones who would kill their own
for the sake of a few inches of sand
and forty pieces of silver.
©Paul Vincent Cannon
Jill Dennison at Filosofa’s Word has forwarded a friend’s blog; The Bee Writes which is a school project – a song on video called “Too late” and can be found at: Youtube
Bee Writes is asking for people to go to Youtube and boost the video with likes and by following. You could also check out those two blogs, they are well worth a read.
My poem “The Parenthesis of Silence” has been published on Spillwords.
The Parenthesis of Silence – at Spillwords
If you haven’t been to Spillwords you are missing out.
Exemplary – Word of the Day
Rachel Carson (1907 – 64) (Photo: post-gazette.com) Carson was a marine scientist whose most known public work was “Silent Spring” (1962), a clarion call for humanity to address their impact on nature. In particular, Silent Spring is an investigation into pesticides. Carson wrote: “They should not be called “insecticides” but “biocides.” Rachel Carson, Silent Spring, p. 189.
“We stand now where two roads diverge. But unlike the roads in Robert Frost’s familiar poem , they are not equally fair. The road we have long been travelling is deceptively easy, a smooth superhighway on which we progress with great speed, but at its end lies disaster. The other fork of the road – the one less travelled by – offers our last, our only chance to reach a destination that assures the preservation of the earth.” Rachel Carson, Silent Spring p. 277.
Carson was an exemplar of both environmental awareness and activism as a scientist and writer.
The Clock Has Tocked
The old grandfather clock in the hallway is ticking,
but there’s no one to note the passing of the hour,
they’re everywhere else in this big old house,
in rooms of self,
halls of bustle,
where the carpets are dusty and threadbare,
the varnish no longer present to the wood,
and the paint so sallow.
Things should have been fixed long ago,
but our will wasn’t urgent to the task.
Grandad’s monocle popped when the quotes came in,
and we gave up,
preferring the pleasured, anaesthetised life.
Had we ventured to the hallway,
and listened closely,
we’d have known that the clock had tocked its last.
The eleventh hour cried to us,
but we mocked its melodrama,
and bargained that Chronos would let us slide,
and all the while our house is falling,
falling down upon us.
©Paul Vincent Cannon
Mentor – Word of the Day
Mentor: In Homer’s epic “Odyssey” Mentor was the trusted friend of Odysseus, and during the the time that Odysseus was away fighting in the Trojan war, Mentor cared for Odysseus’ son Telemachus. Mentor’s role was to prepare Telemachus for leadership of the family. And so we use the term today to describe someone who takes us under their wing so that they can help and guide us in matters of life and study and work. See also, Mentor
That First One
There’s always that first one,
perhaps you remember?
crossing the line,
warm with excitement.
Intimacies that temporarily quench desire,
but are not love.
Rather, they are a course woven through desire,
a learning of love,
of how to be love,
to be a lover.
That first one is our guide,
a gift of loved learning.
©Paul Vincent Cannon
Unrequited – Word of the Day
Image from imageselephantjournal.com
Our hands grazed over the sugar
and you took mine,
your smile conspiratorial,
as you quietly said: “But you understand?”
I nodded, without conviction.
“You’re a good listener you know.”
I nodded some more,
as we sat sipping our lies.
You smiled summer and laughed spring as we talked.
Minutes were hours and hours were minutes,
as we covered the earth and all that was in it,
but none of the words inside.
I wanted then to reclaim your hand,
to have and to hold,
to steal a kiss,
unravelling all the while.
I wanted to,
I wanted to say how I loved you and more,
but the words remained glued in my mouth.
O if only you knew how I wanted to say.
David White at The Encouraing Word has something to say to us that’s well worth the read:
Life gives Out Participation Trophies