Category Archives: art

April 19, 2022 · 3:42 pm

Drawn On Love – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse De is hosting the Quadrille (44 words) with an invitation to write about chalk.

dVerse Poets – Quadrille – Chalk It Up To Poetry

Photo: clevelandartsevents.com

“A drawing is simply a line going for a walk.” Paul Klee

Drawn On Love

He looked at her long
recognising the stirrings deep within,
he took his pastels and stroked the
paper gently eliciting form as felt,
but something lacked, and his 
movements became more urgent,
frustrated with his chalky lines
he stopped and reached out,
touching her.


Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

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April 13, 2022 · 4:05 pm

Before Me – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Mish is hosting Poetics with an invitation to write a poem using the inspiring work of Vika Muse instagram.com/get.muse or @get.muse.

dVerse Poets – Poetics – The Light of Vika Muse

Art Work: Vika Muse ‘Stop War (The Dandelion Field)’ @get.muse

“I have lost my smile, but don’t worry, the dandelion has it.” Thich Nhat Hanh

Before Me 

Before me lies my field of happiness
of yellow maned lions drawing down
sun-filled songs of joy capturing my
despair and releasing me.

I stand in my field feeling loved,
grounded and open to all that unfolds,
knowing that these leaves may wilt,
but my love will hold stronger.

I wander my field witnessing hope,
that ancient cycle of blown seeds
travelling the broad plains of history,
holding the past and present in a future.

I sit in this field of smiling suns that
radiate joy in the midst of all that stirs
my heart and wearies my mind,
offering me α wellspring οf peace.


Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

Note: Dandelions are a true herb and have wonderful properties for diet and health, but are also ancient symbols of happiness, love and hope.

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March 24, 2021 · 2:28 pm

The Canvas – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Laura is hosting Poetics with an invitation to write in response to painting titles. Of the five title choices I chose the first: “A Painter Without A Brush” by Gerhard Richter (2019)

dVerse Poets – Poetics – The Poet As Painter

Photo: found at freepic.com

“Many painters are afraid of the blank canvas, but the blank canvas is afraid of the painter who dares and who has broken the spell of ‘you can’t’ once and for all.’ ” Vincent Van Gogh 

The Canvas

The canvas stared at him long,
taunting him, daring him to move 
sans brush upon its surface,
he stared back smilingly happy,
slowly he undressed and rolled
up his shirt and soaked it in paint,
and frenzied it across the silent
canvas, all at once, fingers, arms,
legs, with every inch of body, he
kissed and caressed that canvas
with a language of colour rarely 
seen in any conversation or
heard on any palette of note.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

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March 17, 2021 · 5:35 am

Unframed – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Kim is hosting Poetics with an invitation to write a poem using the verse “This being human is …” from a poem by Rumi and to use it as the first line or start.

dVerse Poets – Poetics – The Art of Being Human

Photo: found at lolwot.com

“I have fallen in love with the imagination. And if you fall in love with the imagination, you understand that it is a free spirit. It will go anywhere, and it can do anything.” Alice Walker

Unframed

This being human is more shades than pastels,
though one should never deny the textures or
even the subtlety of brush strokes that paint 
us into surprising vignettes in the corners of
the broader canvas, woven together with gesso
and primaries, themes, and understated meanings
that form a palette of feelings rising through
bold statements and the wash of background time,
but one thing I'd leave off is the frame, this 
being human is paradoxical and bears no frame 
at all in an unframed abstract life.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

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January 12, 2021 · 2:12 pm

Be It Pen, Key Or Brush a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse De is hosting the Quadrille with an invitation to write using the word or its form – dab.

dVerse Poets – Quadrille – Dabbling In Poetry

Photo: pixabay.com

“Creativity takes courage.” Henri Matisse

Be It Pen, Key or Brush

Not everything must be real for its own sake,
licence is better in every art in the telling of a
story, more colour, or less, provokes a reaction,
a narrative of broad strokes and dabs be it pen,
key or brush, touches me deeply.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

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November 5, 2020 · 3:07 pm

Shaping – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

VJs Weekly Challenge – Soft

Photo: lakesidepottery.com

“You have to be in tune with the clay and react to what state it’s in to work with it.” John Shepperd

Shaping

He hewed the clay
and mellowed it with a little sand,
his wet hands moulding, teasing,
seeking its soft tone, rolling,
pinching, shaping every delicate
coil to a vase that blossomed before 
him with a purposed strength 
most useful in its vulnerable void 
awaiting colour.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

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October 13, 2019 · 1:21 pm

The Process – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

5 Lines – Discovery

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Image: ‘Vox Angelica’ by Max Ernst – artnet.com

“Painting is not for me either decorative amusement, or the plastic invention of felt reality; it must be every time: invention, discovery, revelation.”  Max Ernst

 

The Process

The giant bird and I became friends
though sometimes she left me alone far
from home and, no matter my peregrinations,
I was always only ever myself, discovery
was never the end it was the process.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

Paul, pvcann.com

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October 11, 2019 · 3:26 pm

The One Hidden – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

dVerse Poets – Poetic Pop Art

At dVerse Poets Victoria has invited us to take Pop Art as inspiration for a poem.

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Image: ‘In Search Of History’ Alexander Kosolapov, 1982 – Sotsart

Note: SOTS-ART Soviet political art, a journey friend of Pop Art which, due to Soviet censorship of the 1970s – 80s, was mostly underground work.

 

“I’m afraid that if you look at a thing long enough, it loses all of its meaning.”  Andy Warhol

The One Hidden

The conspiracy of words and time
melds colour to a constancy of grey
like ever present winter clouds
brooding over truth
whatever that might be,
and indeed,
that is the question Pilate asked
non the wiser for a reply,
that certainty as a non-event is,
in truth, a certainty,
where facts like curbs
eventually erode and fritter
revealing the naked and bold-faced
lies of our fathers,
a constructed history by numbers,
O how we walked those grey blocks
seeking lucent hope,
just a glimmer of colour,
a taste of the real,
no, not that capitalist lie, freedom,
it is the one hidden in my breast.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

Paul, pvcann.com

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September 5, 2019 · 2:44 pm

The Meat – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Spontaneous – Word of the Day

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Photo: One segment of the Northcliffe Art Walk, sculptures in the bush, quite striking when you get such colour randomly appearing. We went on a whim.

 

“Why not seize the pleasure at once? How often is happiness destroyed by preparation, foolish preparation.!”  Jane Austen, Emma.

The Meat

All the grids of the world
only ever speak of disorganisation,
cages occasion freedom
while structure poses random,
so stand where you will
where you feel drawn,
the choice is yours,
but mark my words,
of segue, impulse and whim,
well, that’s where the meat is.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

Paul, pvcann.com

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June 19, 2019 · 2:45 pm

Of Promise – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

dVerse Poets – Meet Jackie Hulbert

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Art Work: Jackie Hurlbert by permission, via dVerse Poets and Linda Lee Lyberg.

 

Of Promise

She, as many do,
was moving through the doors
of her life and not with ease
so much as a quiet confidence
that was easily torn at the edges
when things went wrong,
and, of course,
too quickly for it to be true
she would blame herself
often referring to a multitude
of lack by some
meaningless comparison;
she was puzzled at how others
would affirm her creative zest
and her beauty,
but when she looked in the mirror
she only saw and ordinary woman
with messy hair,
where others saw
a beautiful, wild garden
of promise.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

 

Paul, pvcann.com

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