Michael Eugene Cantrall

Photopoetry is my preferred genre. My particular approach to this form is to pair a poem I've just written with an existing photograph or music video. Many photos paired with the poems are antique in nature, taken well over 100 years ago. Usually, the combination of the poem and the video(s)/photo(s) is open to various interpretations, any of which may be a logical understanding but which may exclude another interpretation. Cantrall's poetry-only collection can be found at http://www.michaelcantrall.us

[michael-eugene-cantrall-poetry]

Lynyrd Skynyrd - T For Texas - 3/7/1976 - Winterland (Official)

[michael-eugene-cantrall-poetry]

Lynyrd Skynyrd-T For Texas-1976

[michael-eugene-cantrall-poetry]

The Beatles 1962 Footage (part 1)

[michael-eugene-cantrall-poetry]

Mike Campbell & Larkin Poe "You Wreck Me" 20240621

[michael-eugene-cantrall-poetry]

Glen Campbell Sings "Wichita Lineman" & Talks Guitar

[michael-eugene-cantrall-poetry]

Eric Johnson - "Desert Rose" Live from the Paramount Theatre

[michael-eugene-cantrall-poetry]

The First Moonwalk - Bill Bailey - The Apollo Theatre - New York - 1955

[michael-eugene-cantrall-poetry]

1930s Michael Jackson!

[michael-eugene-cantrall-poetry]

Drummer Reacts To| BUDDY RICH'S INCREDIBLE TONIGHT SHOW DRUM SOLOS FIRST...

[michael-eugene-cantrall-poetry]

Why I Agree with Buddy Rich. No Match Grip for Me! Restored in 4K Color

[michael-eugene-cantrall-poetry]

Ghost Mirror

My ghost mirror tells me all I need to know She whispers sweet truths wherever I go

I hear the sound of rivers underground Please do visit my darkness so unfound Dear muse, please do, please stay Please never go away

When I sense a crack in my roof your words arrive as absinthe rains dancing through my empty pages

© September 2023, Michael Eugene Cantrall All images of daguerreotypes, ambrotypes, tintypes, cabinet cards, and postcards are from the author's private collection.  Photographs appearing on this writer's pages on this site are licensed. 

[michael-eugene-cantrall-poetry]

[It was more than just a dream]

It was more than just a dream, this she knows

An immortal appears with eternal questions and she defends her interpretations

She did see each key, she missed not one sign

When messages arrive most are asleep she has been an exception to this truth

A test, suggests it’s imagination and not an answer to her many prayers

And infers it was her own ambitious selfish subconscious mind filled with desire

Shadows chased in the night of a dreamer

These messages change the course of all things answers delivered from our Deity

Astounded we were, her ears did hear all things most hear no signs when their answers arrive

Granted, some do have eyes and see all things most see no signs when their answers arrive

Some have been waiting for nothing and nothing always arrives

It was more than just a dream, this she knows

© Oct 2021, Michael Eugene Cantrall All images of daguerreotypes, ambrotypes, tintypes, cabinet cards, and postcards are from the author's private collection.  Photographs appearing on this writer's pages on this site are licensed. 

[michael-eugene-cantrall-poetry]

May My Wish Be Denied

Yes, my queen, a mistake of great proportions not one small stumble into an unintended land we may need to come back and do this again when unworried by misadventures of attraction that result in such wondrous blundertakes

Reminds me of others where the mind comes together only late to some form of clarity of the unwound where the mind and what has happened unto now find each other in some new comprehend with thoughts not unfamiliar to those who understand

And yet I see these shadows in my night, why so is beyond my questions to be answered in light I roam the shadows cast by the withered oaks in mind that where I roam I stay hidden from all things kind and soon I do seal my weary being in rest rest borrowed, lent, it appears unending

Knowing, this cannot be, the one found and the one who found me what becomes of desire when desire hungers to be free this desire seeks me, has my name on its blade stay away, stay away, I say, as the sharp edge grins

May I not be slain by love, and may my wish be denied mistakes may I not unmake, but fate, please be kind

© May 2021, Michael Eugene Cantrall All images of daguerreotypes, ambrotypes, tintypes, cabinet cards, and postcards are from the author's private collection.  Photographs appearing on this writer's pages on this site are licensed. 

[michael-eugene-cantrall-poetry]

When I feel these fears, I sense the horsemen

When I feel these fears, I sense the horsemen who chase on chilly nights from dream to dream. I hear their steeds seek within the shadows, where embower'd air I breathe does flee from me.

When I do count the misery unleashed upon earthly beings that knew no evil, I hear broken wings of angels fallen. I see them steal the souls of those asleep.

When I inhale the dust within this space, I breathe both life and death, its beauty's truths, and taste the tears of winter's sleeping rose, where marbled angels fill the nights with grace.

I sense the sleeping souls that will awake as a chamber's mist, waiting for release.

© Aug 2023, Michael Eugene Cantrall All images of daguerreotypes, ambrotypes, tintypes, cabinet cards, and postcards are from the author's private collection.  Photographs appearing on this writer's pages on this site are licensed. 

[michael-eugene-cantrall-poetry]

Drifting Dunes (version 2) Behold. The train-wreck lair in which he sleeps, a creation of sere desolation And while he dreams within those bone-dry dunes the other discovers another. The aggrieved leave no footprints in the sand that drifts and shifts and whispers blame as he slumbers through his desert.

Drifting Dunes (version 2) © Mar 2024, Michael Eugene Cantrall  All images of daguerreotypes, ambrotypes, tintypes, cabinet cards, and postcards are from the author's private collection.  Photographs appearing on this writer's pages on this site are licensed. 

[michael-eugene-cantrall-poetry]

Lines Written For A Musician Who Passed Too Soon

He punched a card and worked for Shasta Cable. He drove a shuttle bus for union pay. And when the lights went out his strings did slay. In bars, he owned the stage and every table, danced with flashy skirts, and wore a sable while others blinked their eyes and held their say. The shadow people were not far away. He found himself in things that veered off-label.

May the ivy, laurel, and jasmine so sweet, cling crimson where sorrow sinks dark and deep whereon these broken strings no longer speak. On his tomb, a marbled angel guards his sleep. Oh! May the abyss find those who do not weep! Osiris! Here, in your shadow, a diamond to keep!

Lines Written © Nov 2023, Michael Eugene CantrallAll images of daguerreotypes, ambrotypes, tintypes, cabinet cards, and postcards are from the author's private collection.  Photographs appearing on this writer's pages on this site are licensed. 

[michael-eugene-cantrall-poetry]

[a presence] The fallen sense a presence in their chamber. An immortal does appear here uninvited. Their shadows chase with painful secret grief.

The glimmer of a graven silver glaive descends. Dark eyes soon stare into their unclaimed wages. Broken wings do sense a presence in their chamber.

The emerald mist within a rainbow glows. An immortal gleans as a witness tree. The Dragon's eye can see the final key.

Souls condemned now betake their well-earned darkness. They grasp their mossy beads that do not hear. Their vault grows grim, nullum aeternum praemium.

[a presence] (2) © May 2024, Michael Eugene CantrallAll images of daguerreotypes, ambrotypes, tintypes, cabinet cards, and postcards are from the author's private collection.  Photographs appearing on this writer's pages on this site are licensed.