At midnight…..


At midnight…

I called her at Midnight hour and I told her. Dear Jenny, I remember you and I remember us. I love you still and forget me not. Jenny is crying and she whispered. Johnnie, it is midnight and you are drinking. When the gin is strong and the night is long. You remember me.

You are far-away from me and I am just a wish and tale, you remembered. I am glad you called me and please be safe. Please quit fighting wars for other folks. You can’t save a world, that doesn’t want to be saved. Me and baby Tiffany are doing okay and I appreciate the call. I am here in Michigan, alone and I like being alone now. Once we were lovers, dear Johnnie. We left each other too often and now we have become strangers. I do miss you, you were the last man…

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Happy or sad….


 Happy or sad?….

Pretty Irish girl with eyes of river blue. I saw heaven in her eyes and I told her.” Dear Colleen, never dance with the devil, never make promises, you cannot keep.” Her eyes were dancing like a wild flowing river and she whispered. Happy or sad, we can be. We decide the rhythm of our life dear soldier, we can drink the whiskey till we are blind or we can seek sweetness in the mess of poor decision. Please dance with me tonight, let’s me sing you a Irish love song. “I told her. You are my utopia dream, hair of red, voice of a angel and a untamed storm.” She smiled and she whispered. Do you want a happy or sad song wandering soldier? I told her. Sing me a song of great sadness, sing me a Irish lullaby about love be sweet, love be damned.

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Never dance with the devil..


Never dance with the Devil….

You are so damn fine, yes you are. You are like Black Velvet whiskey, Straight, easy to drink and smooth as silky kisses and erotic dances at the midnight hour.

I told you. Never dance with the Devil. She will tempt you and make you want some more. You will be owned you and scar you forever. Some woman are sweet, kind and a safe haven. I know you are not.

I know if I kissed those soft and tender lips, I know if I looked into those wild and untamed eyes. I’m lost.
I told you often. I love your voice. Your voice like sweet honey will make me want to fall to my knees and make me beg for mercy before I have sins.

I know you are crazy and you make me want to know crazy.
Locked-up man is dreaming of you…

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Rose colored glasses…


Rose colored glasses…..

Sin, gin and too many bad night. Once we knew love and tonight we have forsaken kindness.
I remember when. You and I. Held hands by the Lake Clair and watched the boats go by.

You used to sing words of love to me into the midnight hour and I use to bring roses and wine to you.
We danced to the midnight moon and I whispered love words to you.

Somehow we got twisted-up. Now I sing to the moon and the stars.

“Dreaming, believing and needing us.
I need to remember how you saved me and beg you to stay.
I need you and please forgive me dear Jenny.
I will show my real face and take-off my rose-colored glasses.
I will tell you.
You are my everything. Only sweet gift received in my messy life.”

Dear Jenny waiting for a man who forgot her…

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The Stillness

Walt's Writings

The Stillness

You will know how it feels
You will feel it inside
Your body will sense it
Let yourself accept it
The Stillness

It makes no sound
but you will hear it
you can feel the difference
in your mind as you write
the words are flowing easily

you smile
knowing that the stillness
is controlling you
give yourself to the stillness
embrace it and make it yours

~The Tennessee Poet~
©Walt Page 2021 All Rights Reserved

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Integrity – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon


Image: Gerd Altmann on

“The earth is what we all have in common.” Wendell Berry

The question for me, is what am I ignoring or resisting in regard to how my lifestyle impacts the environment?


O, the triumph of cotton shopping bags
and earth related washing liquids,
the success of one hour for earth hour,
or catching the train just for once,
but yesterday was forty litres of unleaded,
and how many kilojoules of light for
that evening soiree of your gathered moments,
the petrochemicals that made your shoes or
paint for your bedroom decor or the
three thousand kilometres of jet fuel for
those delicious mangoes or tomatoes from 
even further away. What now your ecology,
your environmental credentials, you defender
of the earth?

©Paul Vincent Cannon

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