Category Archives: Country

At Kaltukatjara – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

dVerse celebrates eight years of poetics and co-founder Brian Miller and host Grace have invited a poem that paints or creates a picture that we can see, smell, feel or hear. dVerse Poets – Poetics

At Kaltukatjara

The crisp morning air
hung with bacon
long consumed,
so too the brew
with joyous banter
and reveries of starlight,
while I wandered 
softly on the land
seeking space for 
thoughts that could
not surface in the fray,
yet made no sense 
in the silence,
only the fallen mallee
nuts made any effort
to speak into my day.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

Note: Kaltukatjara known also as Docker River, Northern Territory. Wonderful to see the original indigenous names being used more and more these past years by government and traveller alike.

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Many Songs – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

VJs Weekly Challenge – Theme Song

Photo: wikimedia commons – a male Splendid Wren

“Some birds are poets and sing all summer.” Henry David Thoreau

Many Songs

As the sun rises so too the 
many songs that theme the
changes of the hours,,
from the calling of the sun
to its setting down and 
sister moon of course,
the birds o'clock is sometimes 
welcome, sometimes not, 
depending on my mood,
but the best of theme songs
not ever so loud comes the
call as blue wrens dance 
the yard with shards of colur
and such happy sounds.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

That said, our theme song is an old hit from the 80s by the Aussie band Mental As Anything titled “If You Leave Me Can I come too?” 😊

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To Trace – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: http://www.habitsforwellbeing.com

“A carefree letting go of oneself, not a caution, but a wise blindness.” Rainer Maria Rilke

To Trace

To trace the colours of feeling,
the very flowers of poetry,
through psychic fonts, those
heralds of incomplete meaning
interrupted only by exceptions,
the dispossession of intention
swallowed in the jouissance of hope
lurking in the shadow edge
of the sun's haunting and delicious 
space in that uncrowded halycon hour.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

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Beware, The Magpies Are Singing – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Corvid – 2020 Weekly Challenge 13 (Final)

Photo: http://www.birdwallpapers.com

“There are many rhymes about magpies, but none of them is very reliable because they are not the ones that the magpies know themselves.” Terry Pratchett

Beware, The Magpies Are Singing

Like the sound of a drunken black cockatoo,
the windmill squeaks its grinding rotation,
tail flapping in the breeze
which cools the sweated skin,
it's early, but it's hotter than hell,
a sinister augury of the day's endurance
that only cold beer will quell at its end,
right now the magpies are singing their song,
carolling their advent of spring's enterprise
and the need to stay out of their range,
for they've hatched a plot for a geography
they intend to defend.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

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I Might Not Have – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

VJs Weekly Challenge – Pause

Video: A creek in Mundaring.

Nature does not hurry, yet everything is accomplished.” Lao Tze

I Might Not Have

I might not have,
urgency possessed me,
my veins electric,
the hands of time at my throat,
unconscious of everything,
until the running water
captured my heart's ears,
I touched the red gum
and felt its skin,
a soft roughness
feathered me,
I took a draft of musk air,
right down to my beginning,
and paused for life,
I might not have.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

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Final Caw – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Corvid – 2020 Weekly Challenge #12

Photo: pixabay.com

“In many traditions, crows are messengers and close attention is paid to their actions.” Robert Moss

Final Caw

Alienated
in this swampland feel
of grey desolation days
with splintered signposts,
where the undertaker 
rests atop with beady eyes
as the emptiness of the
hearse of life rolls on by,
waiting for your final caw
signalling the final door.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

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All In A Moment – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

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Photo: northerndailyreader.com.au

 

“The wind whispered secrets in its own incomprehensible way.”  Tracy Rees

All In A Moment

I noticed the way
the wind whipped across the paddock,
barley dancing playfully,
swaying this way and that,
at once catching the light,
now becoming shadows,
swirling, bowing, rising
to the applause of the stringybark
and squeaked approval of mudlarks,
all in a moment,
as if just for me.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

Paul, pvcann.com

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Of Yesterday – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

dVerse Poets – Poetics – Portals

Anmol at dVerse has invited us to consider portals for our poem in Poetics.

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Photo: Ormiston Gorge, NT. A fabulous place just to be.

 

“Holding on is believing that there’s only a past; letting go is knowing that there’s a future.”  Daphne Rose Kingma

Of Yesterday

 

Quiet,
said the silence,
let the air be thin,
nothing will fly,
only the grace of birds,
no words will form
for a traverse
of yesterday,
wear nothing dark,
for though tomorrow
we bury the past,
it is the mystery of
the future we grieve.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

Paul, pvcann.com

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Nothing – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

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Photo: unsplash.com

 

“Such silence has an actual sound, the sound of disappearance.”  Suzanne Finnamore

Nothing

The mist kissed the water tenderly
and held me prisoner in the moment
that must never be squandered,
my breathing as fragile as the air,
waiting for an ending that will not come,
pulled into the juncture of realms,
lost in worlds where no thief resides
save that of my own inattention,
but I turn from that page,
even from the tempting words,
here I want for nothing.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

Paul, pvcann.com

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There Are Moments – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

dVerse Poets – Poetics – Solitude

Bjorn at dVerse is hosting poetics and has invited us to write about solitude while trying to avoid using the word itself.6AE55DF0-5D2C-420E-A901-F4DF5F165703.jpeg

Photo: Somewhere between Merredin and Menzies. The bush is my best solitude.

 

“The more ways we have to connect, the more many of us seem desperate to unplug.” 
Pico Iyer

There Are Moments

I gather myself in this place
where the quiet examines me,
knowing that I yearn for it
as a lover yearns for completion,
even so, I avert myself at times
from the uncomfortable rawness of
the self intimacy of such knowing,
preferring to skirt the edges
below the mask so worn,
and yet, there are moments,
fleeting, like the pause of a breath,
within which an elusive thought
awakens my soul.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

Paul, pvcann.com

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