Category Archives: creativity

What Happened? – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo by Joshua Sortino on Unsplash

“Stuff your eyes with wonder, live as if you’d drop dead in ten seconds. See the world. It’s more fantastic than any dream made or paid for in factories.” Ray Bradbury

What Happened?

Those child dreams of futures evolving,
what ever happened to them?
One moment consuming and real,
the next parcelled in folders, hidden in
crevices, packed in boxes, filed for 
posterity, should opportunity arise,
did that world fade, did age undo the
mystery of youth once offered, did
maturity  cover over the rabbit holes
of wonderment and leave us suddenly
empty, bereft of possibility?


Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®️

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Close Your Eyes – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Image: Surreal Sea Fantasy by seanwareing at pixabay.com

“Imagination is the only weapon in the war against reality.” Lewis Carrol

Close Your Eyes

The world needs to lie down and rest awhile,
to let the weight of days past settle, allowing
us to float into dreams of unknowing, to wander
into imaginations wild, to let the sap rise juicy 
within us, for until we imagine, a new future
is on hold, so, close your eyes and dream awhile.


Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

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Something – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Image: DieterRobbins at pixabay.com

“Our need to reimagine our world through the vibratory larynx, that’s what matters.” Anne Waldman

Something

Everything is in flux,
the pundits are immersed 
in tragedies longer than a 
tudor gown, and everyone
is worried for the canary in
the coal mine who sings 
warnings like a harpy, and
I'm thinking out loud that we
need a circuit breaker, a new
song of imagining, reimagining,
something to end this malaise,
something to feed our senses,
something of creative pleasure,
something beyond the heroics
of mundane, powerless survival.


Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

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The Christmas Cake – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Sarah is hosting Poetics with an invitation to write about food.

dVerse Poets – Poetics – Food

Photo: from holidappy.com

“Cooking and baking is both physical and mental therapy.” Mary Berry (especially the eating bit 😉 )

The Christmas Cake

I watched her begin before she began,
feeling her way to the fruit of her labour,
she catches time,
reading the path,
finding her rhythm,
crossing over,
rediscovering the way,
mind-stepping the space,
pausing in the bite of her lip,
I saw her frown of concentration
in the lines of her cheeks,
an intentional meditation of parts,
a meld of heart and love,
no sooner is the room drunk on rum
like a bell has been rung,
than the air is filled with 
salivatory expectation,
she smiles now.


Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights reserved ®

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To Be Mused – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse De is hosting the Quadrille (44 words) with an invitation to write about or play with the idea of the muse.

dVerse Poets – Quadrille – Muse Cues

Photo: State Forrest, Mundaring, I was keen to follow the trail – where will it go?

“…. poetry is an autonomous muse ….” Alice Walker

To Be Mused

Have you ever been mused
by an inviting path or the 
one who catches your eye, 
a delicious word in a bowl of soup,
what of rain dances or cloud smiles,
sun skips and creek beds,
a series of fortunate dalliances
stir my seeking heart.


Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

69 Comments

Filed under creativity, Free Verse, life, passion, poem, Quadrille, quote

Never Noticing – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: publicdomainpictures , pixabay.com

“It is the one who can think of no alternative to their enslavement who is truly a slave.” Wendell Berry (adapted)

Never Noticing

So many have surrendered and demand to be managed,
chained to the dulling process of quiet self-degradation,
shovelling their own graves in their algorithms of complicity,
never noticing the simple freedom of gulls and wrens.

Chained to the dulling process of quiet self-degradation,
a self-imposed exile alienating the beating heart of life,
never noticing the simple freedom of the gulls and wrens,
the conversations of trees and shoreline waves lapping.

A self-imposed exile alienating the beating heart of life,
forgetting the joys of wholeness and the stirring of passion,
the conversations of trees and shoreline waves lapping,
the triumph of gnosis over the beauty of creativity.

Forgetting the joys of wholeness and the stirring of passion,
shovelling their own graves in their algorithms of complicity,
the triumph of gnosis over the beauty of creativity,
so many have surrendered and demand to be managed.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

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Awaiting – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

VJs Weekly Challenge – I’m Bored

Photo: Dieter-G, pixabay.com

“Boredom is rage spread thin.” Paul Tillich

Awaiting

When the monitor screen runs flat and 
everything is flavoured chalk, I bore 
holes in the universe to see what 
leaks down the strands of my mind,
resisting the blind rut of ordinary days,
those vanilla plays fritted to dust and,
when the portal opens the river flows,
like milk and honey as caramel as 
smiling stars and the gaze of a
tangerine sun, the air electric with 
held breath awaiting the creative new.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

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Where Ideas Land – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Lillian is hosting Open Link Night, the night we are invited to post a poem of our own choice.

dVerse Poets – Open Link Night

Photo: https://media.istockphoto.com

“My ideas usually come not at my desk writing but in the midst of living.” Anais Nin

Where Ideas Land

It flapped in like a hyper bee
and landed on the dry edge,
just over there, catching my 
attention, I saw it then lost 
sight of it thinking it gone,
or so I thought, I searched
and searched, and there 
it was hidden in the lee of 
bracken fern and ivy strands,
a nest for bigger things.
This was my decisive turn,
the seminal, pivotal moment,
that fringe of the mind where 
ideas land.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

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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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Allowing Ourselves – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: found at shutterstock.com

“It is not the mountain we conquer but ourselves.” Sir Edmund Hilary

Allowing Ourselves

Changing our relationship with the past,
refusing to keep it alive in the present,
the embers of yesterday are passing,
allowing ourselves to dwell in possibility.

Refusing to keep it alive in the present,
not letting the incomplete shape us,
allowing ourselves to dwell in possibility,
accepting the strange value of ambiguity.

Not letting the incomplete shape us,
stepping back from self-defeat and doubt,
accepting the strange value of ambiguity,
creatively embracing silent imperfections.

Stepping back from self-defeat and doubt,
the embers of yesterday are passing,
creatively embracing silent imperfections,
changing our relationship with the past.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

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