sonnet of a vision
Posted by William F. DeVault | Filed under Poetry
A little something for my hardcore fans, who complain I have been neglecting them of late.
sonnet of a vision
I have cast my blistered spirit out to
wander among the trees where the shadows
shield me and once healed me of the bled blue
that stained the chained solemn golem as rose
the moon I’d seen with eyes too wide and died
just a little to find my hands fell back
reaching to the pale blue seas without tide
where I’d thought I’d dreamt seeing you look back.
Where I’d thought I’d dreamt seeing you waiting
for me to speak in a voice made weaker
by the thin air in the heavens, singing
your song, a hymn so grim and the speaker
told us only of love, as it should be
anytime or where your name comes free.
William F. DeVault. all rights reserved.
for Candy, who knows the path and the goal.
it can happen to you
Posted by William F. DeVault | Filed under Candy Tothill, Journal, Thoughts about Life
My relationship with Candy Tothill is a fairy-tale romance come true.
I just had to say that, so she (and you, dear reader) know how I feel.
my first impression
Posted by Candy Tothill | Filed under Candy Tothill, Journal, Memoir, Poetry
William has been sifting through our correspondence in search of poems for inclusion in his upcoming book ‘As Such‘. By now you’ve probably established that (a) we like each other a lot (understatement of the century); and (b) there is nothing we don’t share with each other (n-o-t-h-i-n-g).
One of the many adorable Williamisms that I’ve had the pleasure of growing accustomed to, is the way he thinks out loud to me… something which strikes me as an extension of his natural ability to communicate, together with the supernatural connection between us (I keep thinking ‘how incredible God’s plan?’.)
Anyway, last week as he re-read our old letters, he re-sent me whole conversations we’d had, to which he annexed footnotes about his present thoughts on them. How adorable?! One of these ‘recycled’ conversations included a poem I’d written 6 years ago, upon first discovering him on Authors Den in 2002. Here it is, in the context of our conversation of 21 November 2007:
I was going through some old writing from 2002 when I found something I wrote shortly after I ‘met’ you on AD:
observing
from afar
admiring
at a safe
distance
i fall
at the feet
of the god
sexually
wise
subliminally
innocent
he fingers me
without touch
i am a flame
trembling
feeling alive
wired
and needing
desperately
to smoke
the moment.It’s dated 28 February 2002. Evidence that you’ve been with me all along.
I found my own words so revealing, so telling. . . because I’ve been known to speculate about love with the best of the skeptics among us. A brief glance through most of the things that I’ve ever written will bear this out. I had been one of the cynics, one of the cautious; my walls had been built a long time ago.
But when I fell in love with a man who I consider to be, quite simply, the other side of me, it was as if I remembered how to love again. Swept off my feet by the sheer power of emotion, when we initially got together, the whole thing took me quite by surprise.
I still cannot completely comprehend the depth of feeling and the synchronicty between us because much of it is wholly inexplicable. Inexplicable and miraculous and passionate and wicked!
Hell, half the time I’m amused at my own romanticism. The other half, I’m so madly in love with the poet that I can think of nothing else. Nothing.
Life is good. William is awesome.
between your heart and mine
Posted by Candy Tothill | Filed under Uncategorized
There’s an understanding between our hearts, the poet’s heart and mine. It’s the kind of understanding for which you cannot plan; and when it comes, it keeps you in a continual state of wonder at the beauty of it all. It has made a believer out of me.
Not too long ago, my tagline was ‘natural-born romantic, man-made cynic’.
What amazes me most is that I could never have anticipated the depth of the shift in my perspective. After all the years of struggling for independence and freedom, here I am building my world around someone… not because I must, or because it is expected, but because my world is more beautiful this way.
Loving him makes me real.
—————-
Now playing: Alison Krauss; Union Station - When You Say Nothing at All
via FoxyTunes
wonderful comes gently
Posted by Candy Tothill | Filed under Uncategorized
Wonderful eats a tomato - only because you mentioned that tomatoes are your favourite thing to put on toast. It calls you at two in the afternoon - just to hear your voice. It laughs at your jokes when they aren’t funny. Wonderful listens to you breathing and doesn’t try to fill the space with words. It exposes its vulnerabilities and knows you can be trusted with its charms.
Wonderful is what finds you after your journey has led you to question its existence. In the instant when you honestly believe you’ll never know it, it reveals itself. It comes gently, tenderly like rain in the night. And you wake up one morning to discover that it has been keeping the earth in place among the stars.
a new poem - A Truth Without a Doubt
Posted by William F. DeVault | Filed under Journal, Poetry
I just composed this here, in the blog window…its my inner romantique letting me know he’s still alive. up to his ass in demons, but that’s nothing new.
love is. and that’s as good a place to start from as any theology or philosphy.
——————————————————–
A Truth Without a Doubt
these are naught but moments, daisychained into the night.
captured by the rapture of what we find in morning light.
stay with me and find the dawn, an epic that goes on and on,
a dream without a waking, a truth without a doubt.
love is but a riddle we have nothing to rely on for a clue.
I have seen my questions, answered all in the mere presence of you.
I’ve met prophets and pretenders, the basest of offenders,
all of them forsaking what life is really all about.
reeling from the healing touch of such a simple kiss,
we just undress to express the perfection of our bliss.
words are still required, in time, to demonstrate a number prime,
two becoming one when we become within what we can’t live without.
William F. DeVault. all rights reserved
~so while hanging out in your corner...