Monthly Archives: August 2021

I Remember – Haibun by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Frank is hosting Haibun with an invitation to write about first day/returning to school.

dVerse Poets – Haibun – Back to School

Photo by cottonbro from Pexels

“I failed angst in high school. They let me graduate anyway.” John Scalzi

I Remember

Life was to be lived, no time for study or going to school.I could do the work but it disinterested me and I was more focussed on heading down town. Besides, the roll wasn't checked other than in the morning and after lunch, the pubs didn't worry about proof of age even for the floor show where Stephanie (who looked like Stevie Nicks) in fishnets gave us all her charms. While the newsagent proprietor eyed me carefully lest I would steal a magazine (how did he know?), I read them in store. And the billiard hall was a second home, while I listened to the top forty at Mills Record Bar in the high street every Friday.

Looking back it was the girls I remember most. Rita who was cool and charming, Hedda who dealt hash, lyn who was pregnant, and Leslie who cared, Hannah who seemed ten years older than all of us, and Romy who had a beautiful smile and wore no bra and whose skirt seemed non-existent. I hated school, it was a war zone, but I loved escaping down town, and most all, I remember the girls.


the ducks all gather
chickens return home to roost
night heron flies far away


Copyright 2021 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

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Filed under education, Haibun, Haiku, life, poem, prose, quote

Makes Me Faint – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: pixabay.com


“When I’m good, I’m very good, but when I’m bad, I’m very bad.” Mae West

Makes Me Faint

The cauldron emptied liquid finer 
than water, red, molten, boiling,
into the channel so readily offered,
running, burning, smouldering,
until, finally, slowing, glowing, and
having run its course, settles, cools,
and sizzles before becoming solid
once more, like never before,
newly forged from the primal 
furnace and discharged with 
intense, consuming energy into
something so refined, beyond new,
whose heat makes me faint.


Copyright 2021 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

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The Noise – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: A section of the trail walk at Niagara Dam, the colour and texture, the silence, and the big sky are the only noise I really enjoy.

“Silence is a profound melody, for those who can hear it above all the noise.” Socrates

The Noise

I've been thinking about all the noise,
there must be a way to bring it down,
ever wondering what silence sounds like,
and dare I speak seeking the right words.

There must be a way to bring it down,
to emerge from the enclosure of shadows
and dare I speak seeking the right words,
that which should never be mentioned.

To emerge from the enclosure of shadows,
it takes time for the eyes to adjust to light,
that which should never be mentioned,
although nothing is unsayable in the least.

It takes time for the eyes to adjust to light,
ever wondering what silence sounds like,
although nothing is unsayable in the least,
I've been thinking about all the noise.


Copyright 2021 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

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Filed under awareness, bush walking, camping, Country, life, nature, Pantoum, poem, quote

What Is The Colour Of Winter’s Passing? – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: A scene from around Sandstone, the afternoon shadows creeping over.

“People don’t notice whether it’s winter or summer when they’re happy.” Anton Chekhov

What Is The Colour Of Winter's Passing?

By what measure do we determine
any kind of experience, how do we 
perceive when, imperfect and 
incomplete, beauty arises in our midst, 
drawing our sense of wonder as we
gather the threads of waiting, causing 
us to ask, depending on the day, what
is the colour of winter's passing?


Copyright 2021 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

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The Distance Grows Longer – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: pixabay.com

“Comfort zones, where your unrealised dreams are buried ….” Roy T. Bennett

The Distance Grows Longer

Do you know the distance I
have travelled the waters of life,
traversing the scattered fragments
of sheer ecstasy, the majesty of
risky ideas we imagined might
evolve to a reality attached to 
nothing but the energy of our
passions, which were strangely 
balanced against each other,
and the heart of these choices,
deeply buried in the trope of
things that could happen, but
might not, even though everything
matters, even when it doesn't,
and so, the distance grows longer.


Copyright 2021 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

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Filed under dreams, Free Verse, future, life, mindfulness, poem, quote

The Pursuit Of An Epiphany – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: some of the remains of one of the many pubs that served over 10,000 people at Kookynie at the peak of the western gold rush. Kookynie had a mayor, council, shops, a railway, schools, band, an annual parade etc. Now there are only a handful of locals, who seem to like it that way.

“Ruin is the road to transformation.” Elizabeth Gilbert

The Pursuit Of An Epiphany

There are disparate parts of me
that remain of eras past, memories
of halcyon yesterdays all avante
garde, brim bustle and push,
erecting obelisks across the 
parched expanse of my days to
celebrate the fiction of immortality
embodied in the fountain of youth,
until that day it all began to slowly,
imperceptibly, crumble to the ground,
leaving only a trace of something 
once great, dust to dust in the
pursuit of an epiphany.


Copyright 2021 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

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Fragile – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: Life in the midst of death, one of the many eucalypts known as blackbutt – the bark at the base being darker or black. This particular tree is fighting for its life. Taken at Niagara on a trail walk.

“The poetry of the earth is never dead.” John Keats.

Fragile

Recursive fade,
neglect by stealth,
the ache of desolation,
days poured out in exile,
layers stripped bare
revealing the pain of
inner beauty that has 
been life's weeping,
arriving as resurrection 
without stained glass 
language or tired ceremony
to gloss the moment of this
fragile and vulnerable
exposure of mystery.


Copyright 2021 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

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Astro-logical – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse De has invited us to write a Quadrille (44 words) on some form of the word heart.

dVerse Poets – Quadrille- Heart

Photo by luizclas from Pexels

“Yours is the light by which my spirit’s born ….” ee cummings

Astro-logical

There is no dys in the topia of 
my heart where you're concerned,
your ample fullness fills my
darkly mind with tingled pulses of
rhythmic, to the bone sensatiopns, 
that caffeinate my hours with a 
cornucopia of luminous astrologia
that simply makes me dizzy.


Copyright 2021 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

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Filed under astronomy, awareness, Free Verse, life, love, passion, poem, Quadrille, quote

Eyes To The Sky – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: dry creek bed at Niagara near Kookynie, not uncommon, such creeks might flow once or twice a year if storms bring enough rain and recharge the landscape.

“When the well is dry, they know the worth of water.” Benjamin Franklin

Eyes To The Sky

These veins run dry,
eyes to the sky, expectant,
lips parched, ever waiting
for heaven's tongue to 
moisten this dusty skin,
and slake the throat of life
that clings to the edge of 
hope, not knowing how
tenuous this unbalanced 
life is, hanging on, as if 
this is the only way to be,
eyes to the sky, expectant.


Copyright 2021 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

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Simply The Moment – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: atop Boondi Rock in the Boorabbin National Park, a great place to lose the clamour of the daily grind.

“The ability to be in the present moment is a major component of mental wellness.” Abraham Maslow

Simply The Moment

Some of today we gave to many futures,
then we fell into our living memoirs of 
triumphs past and things best forgotten,

∽ but the interlude was so glorious ∼

where we held against all polarities,
stopping time right in its dual tracks
by simply observing the moment.


Copyright 2021 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

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Filed under bush walking, camping, Country, Free Verse, life, nature, poem, Puente, quote