Graphic: pulpcovers.com
Unlike the rest of the flesh show,
she was interesting
so I decided to strike a conversation,
of course,
but as I approached
the bartender scowled at her
and she ran off,
I followed
up the stairs
along the hall
where she ran into a room,
when I got there
she was out on the ledge
as I reached out to grab her
too late did I see her gun
and only then did I realise
I was in a right pickle.
©Paul Vincent Cannon
Paul, pvcann.com
Filed under Free Verse, life, poem
Photo: pixabay.com
He stood on the rise
loosened his tie and just ran
remembering those days when
his mother and father
lived an angry indifference
that had drawn him here,
to the four winds
who’d encouraged him,
conversing about the ancient quadrilateral
of brown paper and string
that would take him to lost realms
of heart and mind,
he flew here regularly
his laughter lighting the darkness
of everyone near.
©Paul Vincent Cannon
Paul, pvcann.com
Filed under Free Verse, life, mindfulness, poem
Photo: lacavaacupuncture.com
Screen door squeaked around five
the linoleum worn by his steps
he turned on the radio
music streaming
anonymously to his ears
while he sets to with dinner,
as always, the same simple fare,
and he’d bathe and tend her
feed her with love,
she’d rasp her gratitude,
it’s not what they’d planned,
lost were the card nights
the bar with the boys,
their dates were bedpans,
face washers and pills,
her nights were his nights,
till something resolved.
©Paul Vincent Cannon
Paul, pvcann.com
Filed under Free Verse, Ilness, life, love, poem
What Do You See? – Willow Poetry
Image provided.
“Theologians may quarrel, but the mystics of the world speak the same language.”
Meister Eckhart
A medieval babel
we built the cloister as if to reach heaven,
high and lofty
grand as a statement of our
misplaced devotion,
realising too late
that there is nothing big enough to catch,
let alone contain,
that which we call God
who dwells in much humbler
less rational cathedrals.
©Paul Vincent Cannon
Paul, pvcann.com
Filed under challenge, Free Verse, mindfulness, poem, quote, Spirituality
Photo: pixabay.com
I was ready to bleed for you
but you couldn’t wait
you crept in and
stole my heart
incarcerated in your beauty.
©Paul Vincent Cannon
Paul, pvcann.com
Filed under Five Lines, Free Verse, life, love, poem, relationship, romance
Photo: pixabay.com
The rugged sandstone fell in chunks
fragmenting in the river below
a millennia past,
and though nothing happened for a time,
or so it seemed,
the stone surrendered to the water
who loved the stone
to an external beauty
that belied its inner strength.
©Paul Vincent Cannon
Paul, pvcann.com
Filed under challenge, Free Verse, life, mindfulness, nature, poem, Quadrille
Photo: pixabay.com
Every drive is an ascent of some description,
to reach the peak,
stand on the precipice
and risk the valley
of the every day.
©Paul Vincent Cannon
Paul, pvcann,com
Filed under Five Lines, Free Verse, life
Image: found on the conversation.com
He is anyone and everywhere
he is hunched
and tapping
machine-gun conversations
of putrescence
volatile, explosive,
deliberately abusive
his anger grins at the screen
while testosterone flywheels energise
but his cause is not the point,
merely to rile
is to win
this game.
©Paul Vincent Cannon
Paul, pvcann.com
Filed under Free Verse, life, poem, Quadrille
Image: lounge.obviousmag.org A bust of Plato
Meno strutting in Athens with entourage
sycophant of Gorgias
that overblown sophist and Socratic doubter,
Plato counter-posed you
in a double counter play
of the virtue of virtue
how innate, how not,
and you were confused
a mere child caught in
a permanent aporia,
but Socrates,
dear, tragic Socrates
showed you the way,
to search for that which
we do not know.
©Paul Vincent Cannon
Note: Plato wrote ‘Meno’ as a Socratic piece, a dialogue between Meno and Socrates. Meno is young and believes he is accomplished and clever, but Socrates proves him to be confused and lacking. Meno was also a mercenary who became involved with Cyrus the 2nd’s attempt to take the Persian throne from Artaxerxes, Cyrus was killed and Meno and other generals captured, all but Meno were beheaded. And I quip, at least he kept his head that time. The poem is really an elegy for Socrates who taught Meno a lesson.
Paul, pvcann.com
Filed under Free Verse, history, life, philosophy, poem
Photo: popsugar.com
The waiter hovered solicitous
as we divined the menu
a sumptuous poem for the palate,
a veritable bacchanale,
the candle flickered as we talked with passion
reordering our every moment of the day,
we rejoiced in the smells of the jus and the spices
chewing with tender delight
the fat on our lips glistened
while the gravy ran down our chins
we laughed and we sighed
meditating on every morsel and word
forgetting the world
indulging each other
I took your hand
you stroked my ankle
the waiter hovered once more
was there anything else
O yes please,
Oysters, shucked, of course
but at home we had a different feast.
©Paul Vincent Cannon
Paul, pvcann.com
Filed under Free Verse, love, poem, relationship, romance, Sex
just another number
It's not the end of the story ;
stay curious,stay fascinated
Love, life & education
The daily life of an addict in recovery
a gathering of words between smiles
practising for a whole life
VI VERI VENIVERSUM VIVUS VICI
words of twilight
"Once a pond a time..."
Inspiration, History, Imagination
Bethany Swick writes hot romance and erotica.
Finding the extra in the ordinary
Where Words Come To Life
A collection of photographs.
Writing, books, food, music, Manchester and whatever else I can think of
Landscapes, Sunsets, Animals
just another number
It's not the end of the story ;
stay curious,stay fascinated
Love, life & education
The daily life of an addict in recovery
a gathering of words between smiles
practising for a whole life
VI VERI VENIVERSUM VIVUS VICI
words of twilight
"Once a pond a time..."
Inspiration, History, Imagination
Bethany Swick writes hot romance and erotica.
Finding the extra in the ordinary
Where Words Come To Life
