Photo: pixabay.com
There was a time of doldrum days
becalmed in old routines and
repetitious droughts of mind
like harvest fields of crackling grain
and hanging, dry, stringy bark,
when creeks were dry
and summer blazed
with no relief in sight,
until I heard the rustling leaves
and tap, tap, tapping screen door
with a breath of air,
I sensed a change as
you drifted in and
coloured every space.
©Paul Vincent Cannon
Paul, pvcann.com
Filed under Country, Farm, Free Verse, life, love, nature, poem, relationship
Bjorn at dVerse has invited us to the challenge of a 144 word prose piece.
Photo: kidsbritannica.com
The village nightwatchman Dalmar was sitting at the crossroads, an auspicious place to be at that point in his life, on that evening. His neighbour Korfa appeared, which was not uncommon as they shared the role over the days, and company was helpful in defeating those drowsy spells into the long, lonely night. Naturally conversation turned from village life to family. And, as these things go, past the pleasantries about the elders and the movements of different ones in the coming days, conversation turned to the very matters at hand. Korfa enquired after Amina, Dalmar’s wife, and the progress with her pregnancy. “Well, any day now” laughed Dalmar, when, far away, an interrupted cry filled the night as the sound of a new born’s sucking lungs pierced the air. Korfa turned to Dalmar, but he was already running.
©Paul Vincent Cannon
Paul, pvcann.com
Filed under Country, life, love, prose, relationship
dVerse Poets – To Market, To Market
Photo: guardian.ng
The cold air exposed her breath
and what was seen in the sea of stalls
was also felt through her body
while her table
at exorbitant cost,
considering her income,
was a painfully hired space
for her and her baby,
working nights in the city
and days plying her trade
in this flea market,
she gets by,
many look,
while others deride her hard work,
her precious beads of delight,
that some eschew
too few embrace,
but one day soon she will rise
from this place of vague existence.
©Paul Vincent Cannon
Paul, pvcann.com
Filed under Country, Free Verse, life, Literature
Photo: pixabay.com
“But by the time you’ve worked long enough, hard enough, Real Life (which insists on being capitalised as if it were a personage with a proper name and a right to barge into this rental unit called your life) begins to reveal itself as something other than effort, other than accomplishment. Real Life wishes to be left to its own purposeless devices.” Patricia Hampl ‘The Art Of The Wasted Day’
I set a course some moons ago,
plains of windmill grass and dianellas
were simple pleasures,
creeks with flooded gums along blue grass banks and
granite outcrops boasting ghost gums pleased the eye
as much a solace as any company of kind,
while the hills challenged my humble frame,
just as human contact did at every turn
and over time I lost my way
as other, lesser things, intruded.
One day I heard the kookaburras laugh
and I took it personally,
what a fool this way travels they sang,
chastened, I quelled my madding mind,
and reset my compass heart
for deviations, tangents,
the real life.
©Paul Vincent Cannon
Paul, pvcann.com
Filed under bush walking, Country, Free Verse, life, mindfulness, nature, poem, quote
Photo: Ormiston Gorge, West MacDonnell Ranges, NT.
Calm, bucolic smells waft along the warming air
as birds flit and flurry in the vapoured light,
sandstone stout and stoic
holds water
better than any argument,
so quiet this pastorale
a place of beauty and refuge
midst the maddening world,
yet no true sanctuary
without you.
©Paul Vincent Cannon
Paul, pvcann.com
Filed under bush walking, Country, Free Verse, life, mindfulness, poem, relationship
Photo: Lake Brown, just below Eaglestone Rock (Nungarin), just as the sun is setting, the moon visible. Lake Brown has always been a natural salt lake, but human impact has exacerbated the salinity and balance of the lake’s eco-system.
I walked the lake around today and
said a prayer for the one tree who
had sighed its last lying in the midden
of our lust and sorrows, lachrymose,
I have said too many prayers of late.
©Paul Vincent Cannon
Paul, pvcann.com
Filed under bush walking, Country, environment, Five Lines, Free Verse, nature, poem
Photo: Wandoo tress at Mt. Observation, Mundaring, W.A. just on the boundary between Northam and York. This forms part of the Wandoo National Park and forest reserve in the Darling Range.
The Wandoo tree touched me,
unselfishly
it sent a leaf
which spiralled from so high,
slowly descending
on the warm air
and finally,
unannounced
it caressed my cheek,
we were hardly close before
but in that moment
there was a knowing and
the Wandoo tree and I were friends.
©Paul Vincent Cannon
Paul, pvcann.com
Filed under bush walking, Country, Forest, Free Verse, mindfulness, nature, poem
VJs Weekly Challenge – Response
Photo: abc.net.au Bunyah the farm where Les Murray one of Australia’s best known poets grew up as a child and returned as an adult many years later. A place that deeply influenced his poetry.
Taree was your last breath
so hard to think of a national treasure
dying ordinary in a nursing home,
what with thirty volumes
and a string of awards,
but now you’re gone,
ashes to ashes
dust to dust with
echoes of Bunyah
the Sydney Push,
conservative nomad
with ears to the ground,
a voice for the little person
and regard for the land,
the Queen’s gold medal
with just a little fame
you were large in life
and in name,
now you’re gone,
but your words remain.
©Paul Vincent Cannon
Paul, pvcann.com
Photo: the Norseman – Hyden Road looking west.
Roads are like wounds upon the land
convenient scars
of destiny,
lines thrust into beauty
with crests of mystery
the rumble of corrugations
and puthering dust,
a testimony to repetition
memories of destinations
deep places of the heart,
my life has been roads
macadam and dirt
some once,
some thrice,
beginnings
and endings that
are just beginnings after all,
but some I”ll travel no more.
©Paul Vincent Cannon
Paul, pvcann.com
Filed under bush walking, Country, Free Verse, life, poem
Photo: Watarrka National Park, NT.
When the day is perfect,
even when it’s not
and redemption is easy because
we rejoice in the ordinary,
when even elation falls short
of the truth before us
and extraordinary is
in the cracks we pass over,
the language of angels
could not speak this ecstasy,
silence is the better part
as the heart delights.
©Paul Vincent Cannon
Paul, pvcann.com
Filed under bush walking, Country, Free Verse, life, mindfulness, nature, poem
She was raised as a Mormon, and he is a convict serving 43 years in prison. This blog offers a glimpse into two vastly different worlds that have united together. Join them on their journey through prison life & married life.
superwoman
Imagination is my weapon
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Singer, Songwriter and Author from Kyoto, Japan.
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Feelings that i blend became the story which has no end
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Photos of my world and other stuff I hope you will enjoy too. Photos taken with Canon PowershotSX70HS Photos can be purchased.
A true thing, poorly expressed, is a lie.
art, writing, reading
My Mormon Transgender Second Life
Poetry, Flash Fiction, and more
She was raised as a Mormon, and he is a convict serving 43 years in prison. This blog offers a glimpse into two vastly different worlds that have united together. Join them on their journey through prison life & married life.
superwoman
Imagination is my weapon
Daily Updates on todays trending topics in Health, Money, Pets, Travel, Music and more...
poetryrecipes
Singer, Songwriter and Author from Kyoto, Japan.
Finding myself through living my life for the first time or just my boring, absurd thoughts
Amanda Greenwood Writer Official Site
Tatterhood's Musings
Feelings that i blend became the story which has no end
BAŞKA BAKMAK LAZIM DİYENLERE...
Joshua's Blog
The music and the diamonds
I know nothing
Adventure | Photography | Wanderlust
Anxiety, Pain, Self-Harm, Addiction, and Reality
Framing Life
