Category Archives: beach

November 3, 2020 · 3:08 pm

I So Choose – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Lillian is hosting the Quadrille and her invitation is to write (44 words) about happiness or a form of the word.

dVerse Poets – Quadrille – Happiness

Photo: travelchannel.com

“Happiness is a matter of one’s most ordinary and everyday mode of consciousness being busy and lively and unconcerned with self.” Iris Murdoch 

I So Choose

The waves crashed in rolling the shore
like worn carpet in displaced surrender,
revealing troves of shiny detritus 
unrelated in my minds eye, yet in my
perceiving I teased out the synchronicities
which were there all along, waiting for my
happiness to be chosen.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

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October 16, 2020 · 3:24 pm

Sands Of Time – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Grace is hosting Open Link Night, the night we choose a poem to post. dVerse Poets – Open Link Night

Photo: pixabay.com

“In every outthrust headland, in every curving beach, in every grain of sand there is the story of the earth.” Rachel Carson

Sands Of Time

What force is this
runnel of scarred beauty,
where earth meets water,
transformed by the intimate violence
of a caress which moves mountains
of life beyond all tomorrows of
recollection to eternities of an
indescribable elsewhere that
leaves me feeling uncertain of
where to place my feet in a 
shifting world.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

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April 12, 2020 · 2:58 pm

The Sea Of Truth – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

RDP Sunday – Truth

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Photo: pixabay.com

 

“The truth is rarely pure and never simple.”  Oscar Wilde

 

The Sea Of Truth

The sea of truth is rent as a
westerly whips across the sound,
so much is indistinct as waves crash
fiercely holding but for a moment
then folding into each other,
no latitude here,
only the mollusks are indifferent,
unashamed of their resistance
to this vast body of similitude
that shapes the destiny of granite
with ease and holds the sands
in no esteem, consuming tubs
traversing meaning, skating
the peaks alone,
and I stand on the groin
seeing everything and nothing
exhausting itself, spent in anger,
so much is indistinct.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

Paul, pvcann.com

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February 17, 2020 · 3:04 pm

Until – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

VJs Weekly Challenge – Sun

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Photo: unsplash.com

 

“Even the sun directs our gaze away from itself and to the life illumined by it.”  Eberhard Arnold

Until

The sun is just the sun
so far as the eyes are concerned
until the sun meets
horizon or cloud,
and every hue erupts,
bathing hearts with flutter,
even more so when the
sun meets your hair
offering highlights and
directing my gaze
to you.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

Paul, pvcann.com

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February 10, 2020 · 1:50 pm

One – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

RDP Monday – Skimpy

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Photo: pixabay.com

 

“A girl in a bikini is like having a loaded pistol on your coffee table – there’s nothing wrong with them, but it’s hard to stop thinking about it.”  Garrison Keillor

One

When your skimpy two-piece became one,
I counted your thirty-three vertebrae
with my sensitive fingers,
so carefully I traced
from C-1 to L-5
and, holding my breath
I pressed on to S-4
where I felt my heart
increasingly spinning.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

Paul, pvcann.com

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January 19, 2020 · 2:14 pm

Moon Trick – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

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Photo: pixabay.com

 

“Never give up for that is just the place and time that the tide will turn.”  Harriet Beecher Stowe

 

Moon Trick

At five the shore was long,
as long as it would ever be today
or any other day,
and I had not taken the time to
remember this nor to ponder
that it it might remain so,
that the tide might not come back
today or any other day,
that the sand should be divorced,
she the grieving widow
uncovered by her beloved
exposed and bereft,
her tears captive to the sun,
but the moon played her trick
and covered the shore once again,
I left with joy in my heart
knowing that all the tears were gathered.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

Paul, pvcann.com

 

 

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October 3, 2019 · 1:47 pm

Pelicans Align – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

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Photo: Hardy Inlet, Blackwood River, three pelicans in the shallows.

 

 

“Many pelicans fish by swimming in cooperative groups …”  National Geographic

Pelicans Align

Just a grey October day where
the river reflects its sky so well,
a flash of white dazzles on the
far eastern shoreline
a painter’s bold smudge,
the air murmurs but doesn’t move,
gulls and terns circle and pass,
suddenly the daub of paint moves
and catches my eye,
five birds take to the sky
thermal surfers wheeling and circling,
soon five more, and another,
till forty pelicans align in a
grace that belies their size
and somehow the world seems
to be a better place.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

Paul, pvcann.com

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August 22, 2019 · 1:50 pm

Pondered Pebble – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Pebble – RDP Thursday

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Photo: pixabay.com

“It is a mathematical fact that the casting of this pebble from my hand alters the centre of gravity of the universe.”  Thomas Carlyle

Pondered Pebble

Have you ever stood and pondered a pebble
on riverbank or seashore,
to know that a conglomerate surrendered it so
by water and by wind,
that oneness can give an abundance
and nothing is alone or insignificant,
to think that such a small thing
can be a giant killer,
a game changer,
gravity mover,
disturber of peace,
a garden of delight,
pity the one who doesn’t ponder a pebble.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

Paul, pvcann.com

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July 17, 2019 · 2:36 pm

I Remember – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

5 Lines – The Beach

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Photo provided by Patricia’s Place  via pixabay.com

 

I Remember

When I have whelved all my thoughts to the
point that I dwell in anomia
I go to the edge to listen to the wind calling,
while the water caresses,
and I remember your laughter.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

 

Paul, pvcann.com

 

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April 28, 2019 · 2:20 pm

Taking Time – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Warp – RDP Sundayitaly-981191_1280.jpg

Photo: pixabay.com

 

Taking Time

I looked back towards the horizon
and I measured by heart
the distance traveled,
once, I craved the everything beyond
devouring places in the wake of drive,
now I savour where I’ve been
and the who of many conversations,
we lost a few along the way
raising the tide with a tear or two,
days past there was no rest
we moored for little
yet, curious, we delved for a while,
more often on the move
we compassed the globe and tore about
even now we’re far from still
but the harbour is inviting now
where I desire to be moored,
with long tables
in languid time
where words are shared
and never consumed.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

Note: warp can refer to the weave of a rope, but it can also mean the art of mooring a boat using rope.

 

Paul, pvcann.com

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