Monthly Archives: July 2021

Every Now And Then – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: found at il5.picdn.net via Bing

“Man [sic] is troubled not by events, but by the meaning he gives to them.” Epictetus

Every Now And Then

Every now and then suspicion arises that something is wrong,
shockwaves course through me as electromagnetic feedback,
exposing the delicate tension of unthinkable questions of risk,
knowing that the cracks cannot become profound wallpaper.

Shockwaves course through me as electromagnetic feedback,
a visible lament which gives and elegant glimpse of implications,
knowing that the cracks cannot become profound wallpaper,
the consequence of the blindness of isolated privilege.

A visible lament which gives an elegant glimpse of implications
increasingly woven from a variety of unstoppable reasons,
the consequence of the blindness of isolated privilege
that consumes every category of memoried construct as real.

Increasingly woven from a variety of unstoppable reasons,
exposing the delicate tension of unthinkable questions of risk
that consumes every category of memoried construct as real,
every now and then suspicion arises that something is wrong.


Copyright 2021 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

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Filed under awareness, life, Pantoum, poem, quote

As The Light Shines – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: a Hakea along the Lesmurdie Brook.

“The pursuit of perfection is tiresome.” Liz Russell

As The Light Shines

Beaten by fierce winds and cold rain,
less majestic after the passing storms,
eaten away at the edges of my defence,

∽ And yet, look closer at my translucent skin ∼

See my veins so clearly in the backlight,
now a version of stained glass in mono,
so beautiful as the light shines through.


Copyright 2021 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

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Filed under awareness, bush walking, Free Verse, nature, poem, Puente, quote

Then I Remembered – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: Astroloma foliosum a small shrub native to a small geographical area east of the Perth CBD , this one found in the Mundy Regional Park along Lesmurdie Brook.

“I have memories – but only a fool stores his past in the future.” David Gerrold

Then I Remembered

I took a photo today of a scene by a brook,
a tubular flower caught the corner of my eye,
I waited patiently for the wind to drop that I 
might faithfully remember this moment, and 
I do, but as each day draws on I notice more 
the details not captured, left outside the frame 
of my mind and dimmed by hours, which makes 
me curious, why do I ponder that which is left out, 
but then I remembered, I cannot contain it all.


Copyright 2021 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

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Winter’s Expiation – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: segment of Lesmurdie Brook along the cascades and falls, Mundy Regional Park.

“The journey between what you once were and who you are now becoming is where the dance of life really takes place.” Darbara de Angelis

Winter's Expiation

Between the source and its ending
comes the journey unscripted, untold,
though bounded by ancient guides
and rhythms, the journey is its own
making of none foretold or known,
only its own drive to quench the thirst 
of its banks so long withheld before 
pooling in aesthetic delight, having 
been poured out as winter's expiation 
for summer's bold insufficiency
long endued.


Copyright 2021 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

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Filed under awareness, bush walking, Free Verse, life, nature, poem, seasons

Woven Connection – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: pixabay.com



“Love is an irresistible desire to be irresistibly desired.” Robert Frost

Woven Connection

Sweetness and terror push against each other
in warm waves of delicious intense confusion 
that wave my heart about in giddying flourishes,
catapulting me senseless in unexpected feelings,
leaving me so light I began to float away from you,
until you reached out and wove our fingers together
in a constancy of connection that holds me still.


Copyright 2021 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

16 Comments

Filed under Free Verse, love, passion, poem, quote, relationship

You Cannot – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Art work: found at notbuyinganything.blogspot.com

“The new slavery is consumerism.” Bryant McGill

You Cannot

You cannot make a silk purse from the isms of life
though many have tried and succeeded for a time,
wrapping them in beautiful magnetic attraction,
only to reveal an emptiness of meaning as crisis.

Though many have tried and succeeded for a time,
too soon the facade faded to its skeletal menace
only to reveal an emptiness of meaning as crisis,
the very dust we are returning to laughs at our surmise.

Too soon the facade faded to its skeletal menace,
a harbour of jaundiced, unrepentant misery,
the very dust we are returning to laughs at our surmise,
thinking we could trust the gratuitous laminate-life.

A harbour of jaundiced, unrepentant misery,
wrapping them in beautiful magnetic attraction,
thinking we could trust the gratuitous laminate-life,
you cannot make a silk purse from the isms of life.


Copyright 2021 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

21 Comments

Filed under Economics, life, mindfulness, Pantoum, philosophy, poem, politics, protest, quote

Poem For Ilhan Sami Comak – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: From peaceinkurdistancampaign.com The Kurdish poet Ilhan Sami Comak who has been imprisoned for 27 years on false charges – the European Court of Human rights has ruled that his conviction is unlawful.

“Books and all forms of writing are terror to those who wish to suppress the truth.” Wole Soyinka

Poem For Ilhan Sami Comak

Once there were two birds,
but isn't that always the case,
one came and sat at my window,
the other sat perched in a cage,
and though the one left the window
for the trees, it sang its freedom
in seeking my food, while the caged 
one had no such concern and gave 
itself instead to singing its freedom
to the world.


Copyright 2021 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®



For more on Ilhan Comak follow the links:

Ilhancomak.wordpress.com

Global Voices

PEN International

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Shucker’s Delight – prose by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Lisa is hosting Prosery, a piece of prose of 144 words, inviting us to use a line from a poem by Zora Neale Hurston which comes from her work ‘How Does it Feel to be Coloured Me’ in ‘World Tomorrow’ (1928)

dVerse Poets – Prosery – Finding Ms. Zora Neale Thurston

Photo: found at thegoodtrade.com

“Who looks outside, dreams. Who looks inside, awakens.” Carl Jung

Shucker’s Delight

No, I do not weep at the world – I am too busy sharpening my oyster knife. I find it occupies me best of all. I’m a shucker from way back and I have my own rhythm and movement, a time honoured practice of holding, inserting, twisting and opening. So simple, every action economical, a form of meditation, I love the concentration, one slip and I might lose a finger – I have wounds to show for every lapse. Wounds where I surrender focus to the searing hurts of humanity. This is no escape, just a respite, a regathering from the morass of pain felt in tones of colour, known in cries for justice, that which bleeds from the despair of prison gates. If I didn’t sharpen this oyster knife I fear the world would possess my emotions and blunt my innocent dance of freedom against power.

Copyright 2021 ©Paul Vincent Cannon

All Rights Reserved ®

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Filed under awareness, Fiction, life, prose, Racism

Truly Free – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo (found on everipedia.org): Inside the former HM Maze Prison (formerly known as Long Kesh Detention Centre) in Northern Ireland where during the 1970s the British forces interned both IRA and Loyalist prisoners, and in 1981 where Bobby Sands (along with nine other prisoners) died while on hunger strike at the age of 27. The Prison has since been demolished except for a portion retained as historical. Part of the former prison was offered for use by the Eikon Centre for events.

“They may hold our bodies in the most inhuman conditions, but, while our minds are free, our victory is assured.” Bobby Sands

Truly Free

Prison walls incarcerate only those 
who willingly surrender their minds
in easy rapprochement, but the minds
who can transcend the ill facade with
songs of solidarity on their lips, and 
poems of promise in their hearts,  
prophesying to the end of evil; that is 
the mind no longer held, they are truly 
free, even in the last breath.


Copyright 2021 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

41 Comments

Filed under Free Verse, history, identity, injustice, life, poem, politics, protest, quote

Restoration – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: Granite outcrop along the Lesmurdie Brook, Mundy Regional Park.

“Rain is grace ….” John Updike

Restoration

Excoriated by summer's gaze,
desiring winter's cool soothe to
bathe the long ache of leathered,
split skin, parched and papering
to dust, needing the kindness of 
heavens dew washing over the 
passage of time, soft as lizards 
feet, tender child of the brook 
once more, playing water's
song of restoration.


Copyright 2021 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

15 Comments

Filed under bush walking, Free Verse, nature, poem, quote