Category Archives: creativity

January 12, 2022 · 2:23 am

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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January 11, 2022 · 1:58 am

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 ®

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April 29, 2021 · 3:15 pm

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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April 21, 2021 · 3:32 pm

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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April 2, 2021 · 1:51 pm

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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March 17, 2021 · 5:35 am

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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March 15, 2021 · 2:02 pm

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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February 3, 2021 · 3:40 pm

Whispering Suicide – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Bjorn has invited us to write about war. dVerse Poets – Poetics – War Poetry

Photo: Jim Huylebroek for the New York Times

“Only the dead have seen the end of war.” Plato

Whispering Suicide

Cheap little saccharine songs for mud,
manufactured jingles to make you numb 
to death, mixed ideologies competing for your 
mind, hollow promises for free, tacky coloured 
rectangles of cloth whispering suicide to the 
flesh of youth who dream of becoming,
who are the heroes in this  moral 
vacuum of life's bitter ebb, where
are the children of this rancid death 
cult now.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

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January 12, 2021 · 2:12 pm

Be It Pen, Key Or Brush a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse De is hosting the Quadrille with an invitation to write using the word or its form – dab.

dVerse Poets – Quadrille – Dabbling In Poetry

Photo: pixabay.com

“Creativity takes courage.” Henri Matisse

Be It Pen, Key or Brush

Not everything must be real for its own sake,
licence is better in every art in the telling of a
story, more colour, or less, provokes a reaction,
a narrative of broad strokes and dabs be it pen,
key or brush, touches me deeply.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

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January 5, 2021 · 2:53 pm

Opening – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Image: Michael Gaida, pixabay.com

“I like the unreality of your mind; the whole thing is very splendid and voluptuous and absurd.” Virginia Woolf

Opening 

Opening the window wide
reality flew in like an albatross,
all flustered and no direction,
shattering all my pieces,
pretending to be something while
spectacularly embarrassing itself
with saturated deathly excuses
emptying from its smirking life,
and so completely removed,
"who's the dissociative now?"
I asked, as I closed the door on
my way out to creative futures.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

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