Night LIfe

House of Heart

From my  window  a sliver of  moon casts a haze over the water. I can hear the  rush of soft waves. Those  creatures beneath the depths,  do they sleep,  dream?  If  parted do they grieve?  Down the street  I can see  the lights from  an all night store. A man waits behind the counter.  Cautiously he  slips his hand under his jacket and takes a long swig from a  bottle.   A group of young thugs gather outside the storefront.   I imagine them  harming the storekeeper.  Distracted by the young whore taking shelter in a doorway they laugh and whisper. Oblivious to her vulnerability she sleeps as though she has never heard of  birds of prey that swoop down with jagged talons hungry for butchery.   I watch intently  in case I need to call out a warning  but losing interest they disappear into the dark.
Maybe nothing is real. Maybe…

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My Innermost Voice

Confab With Me

Intoxicated by her mystic eyes
words I held back for eons surged
and the emotional deluge basked the moment
captivating us in a magical spell

My heart was split wide open
bleeding her name,
desires burning in flames
and the most intricate hushed yearnings
came rushing out
longing to hold her in my breath,

And my trembling hands
embraced her face
and our vicious lips
got fused and entwined

With surprise laced visage
and raised heartbeat
she questioned through her eyes
and I whispered gently in her ears

“You may call it my stupor’s fault but for once my subconscious mind is voicing my heart’s words”

Copyright © Shantanu Baruah

Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Shantanu Baruah and…

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When Rivers Change – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon


VJs Weekly Challenge – Habit


Photo: found at – Nowitna River

“Life is like a river, sometimes it sweeps you gently along and sometimes the rapids come out of nowhere.”  Emma Smith

When Rivers Change

When rivers change
as rivers do
unstraightened into bends,
sweeping earth from
side to side and back again,
they subvert and challenge
every shibboleth and quasi-truth
embedded in the byzantine routines
of our quotidian humanness,
which until that moment
remained unnoticed, hidden,
in the accepted drudge of
our self-created lives as
if this were the only way to live,
and for evermore.
Not so, shout the rivers,
today your habit is interrupted,
you’ll need to go by another route.

©Paul Vincent Cannon


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“I will face intimidation… if a man doesn’t have something that he’ll die for, he isn’t fit to live.”

Art of Quotation

“And I won’t rest; I will face intimidation, and everything else, along with these other stalwart fighters for democracy and for citizenship. We don’t mind it, so long as justice comes out of it. And I’ve come to see now that as we struggle for our rights, maybe some of them will have to die. But somebody said,

if a man doesn’t have something that he’ll die for, he isn’t fit to live.”

Martin Luther King Jr., minister, activist, Quotes for Now, Montgomery bus boycott speech, 1955

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Being In The Density

I Write Her

UntitledNick Fewings – Unsplash

sharing space
with another
requires more than love

it’s a willingness
to let go
of one’s shield
diligently erected

a wanting
to feel the richness
of another’s essence
perhaps damaged

a deep need
to be enmeshed
on all the levels
partners wish to be seen

it’s a pact
for the happiness
of the other
in this dance of two beings

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