Category Archives: Country

May 12, 2022 · 2:46 pm

Are We Listening? – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: from spring 2018, Leda Nature Reserve, Everlastings in full bloom. (One or two rains and the bush comes alive)

“The forest makes your heart gentle, You become one with it … No place for greed or anger there.” Pha Pachak

Are We Listening?

Do winds come to die, or the 
ocean exhaust itself upon the shore,
are trees silent before the storms of
humanity, does grass wither?
You might think it if you took no time 
to stop and listen, for trees speak in
silences and grass always regenerates,
while oceans shout in their return,
winds take time to rest and even the
soil speaks if we would but listen.


Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

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April 5, 2022 · 3:23 pm

Unspeakable – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Lisa is hosting the Quadrille (44 words)with an invitation to write a poem using some form of the word season.

dVerse Poets – Quadrille – Tis The Season

Photo: Early autumn in Deepdene, red gums shedding.

“Autumn is as joyful and sweet as an untimely end.” Remy de Gourmont

Unspeakable

The seeds of my tangled life are sown 
along the edge of autumn's invitation,
a propitiation for all that is yet to arise,
an imaginarium of coloured experiences
only the sense can speak, a whelming
of the darkened cave transcended in
spring's awaited consolation.


Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

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March 19, 2022 · 2:14 pm

There Is Always A Way – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: austockphoto.com.au

“If the stable gate is closed, climb the fence.” Julie Krone 

There Is Always A Way

The gate was old, full of character,
but obstinate, refusing to budge
at even my firm handed push,
the gouge in the soil testimony 
to its sunken hinges, forcing me 
to lift it clear every time with a 
sigh acknowledging my own 
resistance to repairing it, partly
in knowing that all gates 
eventually sink, and knowing
that there is always a way 
around and not just through.


Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

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March 15, 2022 · 2:32 pm

I Broke Away – Prosery by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Lillian is hosting Prosery (144 words) with an invitation to use the line “I wandered lonely as a cloud.” from the William Wordsworth poem ‘I wander lonely as a cloud.”

dVerse Poets – Prosery – Winter Be Gone

Photo: from our 2017 road trip through central Australia and down through South Australia, back to Western Australia along the coast. This photo taken along the Nullarbor, the ocean not visible, but further beyond the van is the Great Australian Bight.

“How sweet to be a cloud, floating in the blue.” A.A. Milne

I Broke Away

I wandered lonely as a cloud, not that that is a bad thing in and of itself. I finally broke away from all that encompassing bank of cloud that consumed me, owned me, clouded me. Just one big cloud of everything the same. Sometimes we were white and summery, sometimes grey and uncertain, sometimes black and laden with water. I wanted something else, something more.

I wanted reds, purples, pinks and oranges, colours of excitement, adventure. Colours of day and night, autumn and spring, storm and still. I wanted big and I wanted small. I wanted essence. So I broke away and floated along, determined to discover my cloudness. I wandered lonely as a cloud, and for the first time, entirely happy. Space was mine and I could come and go, and sometimes I need just that, to be far from the madding cloud.


Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
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January 29, 2022 · 11:10 pm

Can We? – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: The remains of a railway worker’s house at Yellowdine.

“Sometimes the things you remember are more real than the things you see.” Arthur Golden

Can We?

I thought I remembered this place,
but my feelings were clouded and I
couldn't  recover what it was that 
I had expected of this moment, 
all vested in cherished memories now 
unrealised in the faces of strangers,
and changes everywhere interfering 
in my attempts to find connections,
and I asked myself once again,
can we ever go back?


Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
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December 9, 2021 · 3:41 pm

One Long, Glorious Pilgrimage – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: Imperial Eagle, Spain, by Barbee Anne, pixabay.com

“The punishment imposed on us for claiming true self can never be worse than th epunishment we impose on ourselves by failing to make that claim.” Parker J. Palmer

One Long, Glorious Pilgrimage

My life began wider than the ocean,
and so vulnerable to the eagle's sight,
soaring in the beauty of life, aiming
for the sun, grappling in the dark of
connection's lack as I wander this 
earth in one, long glorious pilgrimage
of constant diversion, ever seeking to
move away from the magnetic pull
towards narrow ways that strangle
any sense of true self.


Copyright 2021 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
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November 30, 2021 · 2:23 pm

Greater Than – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse De is hosting the Quadrille with an invitation to use the word crown.

dVerse Poets – Quadrille – Heady is the Poem that Wears a Crown

Photo: Paulls Valley, Mundaring

“Trees are poems that the earth writes upon the sky.” Khalil Gibran

Greater Than

If I called you a princess
what would your throne look like,
you are so tall above your peers,
selflessly sheltering all, giving life 
by your breath and wholeness by
your astounding beauty lavished 
on my eyes, your crown greater 
than every trinket jewel.


Copyright 2021 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
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November 27, 2021 · 3:15 pm

And Yet – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: post dawn over the Blackwood River (taken in June – winter)

“An age is called “dark”, not because the light fails to shine but because people refuse to see it.” James Michener

And Yet

And there we all were,
no cares in our world,
sole operators without 
reference to any of the
subtle reminders that we 
are not outside nature's pull,
how small we seem now,
and yet, a thin golden thread
casts a path into the night
of our days.


Copyright 2021 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
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November 17, 2021 · 1:53 pm

Of Epiphanies – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Dora is guest hosting Poetics with an invitation to write about an experience of an epiphany.

dVerse Poets – Poetics – Epiphany In The Time Of Holiday

Photo: Along the trail near Niagara Dam, in this desiccated land nature surprises with beauty arising.

“Every moment an epiphany arrives and cleaves the mountain asunder.” Kim Stanley

Of Epiphanies

Aristotle to Zeno,
this soil so barren and alkaline,
I've passed this way so many times before
expecting that penny so often hoped,
but it creeps along wet window frames,
swirls in day old coffee grinds and grows,
like milkweed among the kale, ever the
wasabi of my busted soul , the inarticulate
joys of birth-pains, collected moments of
masochistic revelation, waiting in dusty
corners, hanging on evacuated spider webs,
invisible until I look up, look down, look in
and connect the dots to me as steps of seeing
the twisted strands of silver shining over me.


Copyright 2021 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
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October 24, 2021 · 2:17 pm

Which Is All There Is – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: sunrise over the Blackwood River.

“Forever is composed of nows.” Emily Dickinson 

Which Is All There Is

When the present is all there is,
what does it mean to be fully present,
or do you sneak off in to the melancholy
of the greying past, or do you inhabit the 
anxiety of tomorrows never arrived,
rather than allowing yourself to be pulled
into this moment, which is all there is?


Copyright 2021 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

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