Category Archives: death

Dark Dilemma – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

#2022 November PAD Chapbook Challenge

Day 20 20.11.22

Prompt: Write a conflict poem

Dark Dilemma 

He shared some home truths
and in the middle of it all,
dropped a complete bomb,
that one spine chilling moment,
the darkest of comments,
like a razor along the vein of life,
such a bloody anticipation,
yet he still thought to ask
for anonymity,
complete confidence,
never to tell a soul,
that he was checking out,
but I needed to make that call.


Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All rights Reserved ®️ 

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Filed under death, Free Verse, life, November 2022 PAD Chapbook Challenge, poem

The Boy In The Pond – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

#2022 November Pad Chapbook Challenge

Day 6 6.11.22

Prompt: Write a news poem.

Trigger Warning – poem is based on a news report about the death of a child

The Boy In The Pond

The fish stared back,
his eyes unmoving as they navigated around him,
curious of his presence,
he was so still they trusted him,
patiently he'd stayed for hours
floating among the lotus.

A dark cloud appeared over the water 
hands reached in taking him from them,
they watched the faces of the hands
turn white with tears running.

The lotus parted in somber lament
as they took him to shore while
the fish descended to the quiet deep,
wondering why the child had stayed so long,



Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®️ 


Note: Around 1992 a young boy, a toddler, went missing near our farm in winter. I joined the search, he was later, sadly, found dead, he'd drowned in the creek which was swollen with heavy rains. This poem is built around a story of a young boy who went missing and was later found dead in a pond in our capital - Canberra this morning. Adding to the sadness was the revelation that his mother and brother were found dead at the other end of the pond on Saturday. No details were given. It was impossible for me to turn away from writing about this, some things stay with us.

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Connected – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Mish is hosting Poetics with an invitation to write commemorating a loved one.

dVerse Poets – Poetics – Dia De Los Muertos

Photo: Newcarlbeon Rock near Koorda. Taken a few weeks back in early spring, a misty sunrise, a thin place for me.

“Heaven and earth, the Celtic saying goes, are only three feet apart, but in thin places that distance is even shorter.” Kerri Ni Dochartaigh

Connected

This is a thin time
where realms are unseparated,
a cure for the soul's myopia
long lost in binary spaces,
momentarily set free,
reminding that death is
not the death we imagine,
you are ever here,
the villain of my childhood
now redeemed in a hagiography,
saint as sinner, sinner as saint,
we are intertwined,
embodied,
connected.


Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®️ 

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Filed under awareness, camping, Country, death, Free Verse, life, mindfulness, poem, quote

Where Death Fades – Prosery by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Bjorn is hosting Prosery (144 words) with an invitation to take his suggested line from Dylan’s song Desolation Row (from Highway 61 Revisited) – the line is: To her, death is quite romantic.

dVerse Poets – Prosery – Bob Dylan

Image: wallpaperaccess.com

“To her, death is quite romantic.” Bob Dylan

Where Death Fades

She often talked of death as if it were sublime. Some mistakenly thought she meant the passion of the little death but in fact it is something more, to her, death is quite romantic. It called out to her from every fibre of nature’s breath. She sensed doors and windows, secret gardens, forest paths. For her this was a journey to life where death fades.

She was no tragic Ophelia seeking to lie down early, death was no surrender, this was life free of burden and furrow. She was quite sure that day would come as prophesied by Donne, Keats, even Blake she mused. A day when the living was lived and the leaving was relief, where ending became beginning and nothing was final, the greatest adventure. On that day she would wear white, and the wedding dance would be sweet like the fragrance of jasmine.

Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon

All Rights Reserved ®️

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Filed under death, dreams, Gothic, life, prose, quote

I Am A Thousand Winds That Blow – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

“True courage is like a kite; a contrary wind raises it higher.” John Petit-Senn

For this poem I took a line from Mary Frye’s ‘Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep.’ to riff with, mainly because it is a poem that I wrestle with, I experience Frye’s poem as wistful and I wanted to write a poem that expresses the reality of death but also honours the sense of spirit, of afterlife.

The line I have taken is “I am a thousand winds that blow.”

I Am A Thousand Winds That Blow

I am here and I am there,
in life, in death, 
I am everywhere,
I'm in the ground,
I'm in the urn,
in my bed I twist and turn.

I cannot deny that I am alive,
always buzzing I love to thrive
I cannot deny that I did die,
so mourn away and light the fire.

As the ash floats on the air,
don't embellish with too much flair,
let me go where I must go,
I am a thousand winds that blow.


Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®️ 

The original poem is below

Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep     by Mary Frye

Do not stand at my grave and weep;
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there.
I did not die.

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When Water Dies – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Sarah is hosting Poetics with an invitation to write about one of the four elements: Earth, Fire, Water, Wind. I chose water.

dVerse Poets – Poetics – The Four Elements

Photo: Taken the day after a winter storm at Cape Leeuwin.

“They both listened silently to the water, which to them was no just water, but the voice of life, the voice of Being, the voice of perpetual becoming.” Hermann Hesse

When Water Dies

The swash and slap of the limpid roll
for languid lolling in a temperate zone,
as flounder flap and take the bait
now unaccustomed to the oaken creak,
a gift from the depths suppered for two,
I recall the taste of salted lips that
burned even as I licked them so,
the smells are joy though my nostrils flare,
and I catch your weeds of no compare,
and my line is tangled, but without you 
I cannot bear the grief of dryness
that your death will bring,
and so I cup my hands that I may
drink one more draught of your 
wet love.


Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®️ 

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Filed under beach, boats, death, ecology, Free Verse, grief, life, poem, quote

Hold The Night – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Laura is hosting Poetics with an invitation to write a deathbed poem.

dVerse Poets – Poetics – Words of Departure

The quote for the epigraph is the line I chose out of the six offered.

Photo: Close to the border between Western Australia and the Northern Territory.

“Go on get out! Last words are for fools who haven’t said enough.” Karl Marx

Hold The Night

I want it all except
the feeling of being hemmed in, 
no dark rooms please, no closed doors,
and don't tuck those sheets too tight,
I need to breathe, to move, to see,
no maudlin tears, save those for later,
let's champagne this moment,
throw back the heavy curtains,
put away the sepulchre furniture,
bring me turquoise sheets and maple syrup,
play me Bartok's folk dances,
let me hear Oliver and Blake,
no more laudanum silences,
offer me no dirges in a minor key,
paint the hearse bright for this
wedding of life to eternity,
hold the night for a moment and
let me see the horizon once more.


Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®️ 

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Life, Death, Life – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: one of many trails I walk in the Beelu Forest, Mundaring.

“Everyone must take time to sit and watch the leaves turn.” Elizabeth Lawrence

Life, Death, Life

Did you notice the first leaf fading,
did you feel its dry, necrous, flesh,
and did you see it fall so gently to
the warm bosom of the earth
who drew it tenderly into herself,
knowing that their embrace would
bring life in a mysterious unfolding.


Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®️

34 Comments

Filed under awareness, bush walking, death, Forest, Free Verse, life, nature, poem, quote

The Theocrats Are Here – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: C-Span Local, state and federal elected (republican) officials of Texas. Beto O’Rourke confronts this lot over their failure to prevent the shooting.

“There’s something rotten in the state of America” could be a line from a modern Shakespeare.

“Theocracy is the worst of all governments.” C.S. Lewis

The Theocrats Are Here

There's a sickness in the land,
the gods of vengeance masquerade
as righteous lovers of goodness,
but their wolfish snouts peek out
from beneath their sheepish skins
for all to see, though sadly, too late
for reversals, now judgements scour
the land as to who owns women's 
bodies, the divinity of children, 
the evil of colour that is not white,
where you park a penis (even never), 
whether to murder in the name of 
justice - electric, gas or juice, 
there's a sickness in the land,
there's no rash or temperature,
it's a handgun and an AR-15.


Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

Note: C.S. Lewis’ quote goes on to say (profoundly) that “If we must have a tyrant, a robber baron is far better than an inquisitor. The baron’s cruelty may sometimes sleep, his cupidity at some point be sated; and since he dimly knows he is doing wrong he may possibly repent. But the inquisitor who mistakes his own cruelty and lust of power and fear for the voice of Heaven will torment us infinitely because he torments us with the approval of his own conscience and his better impulses appear to him as temptations.”

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Filed under death, Free Verse, grief, justice, life, poem, quote, religion

If Only – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Lisa is Hosting Poetics with an iinvitation to write about Elizabeth Kubler-Ross’ stages of grief – this is my second poem in response and this one is about anger.

dVerse Poets – Poetics – Small Change or Big Bucks

Photo: whoismargot at pixabay.com

“The fact is that when you admit that you can’t blame anyone or anything else, you begin to blame yourself.” Kate McGahan

If Only

Why,
why did you leave me in this living death 
with her, she all wrapped up in her needy 
ways and faux sorrow, her critical voices 
cutting my solace, taking my hours and 
swallowing my memories, throwing me
upon myself in a desolation of bones
and mocking my tears, I keep looking for 
you in my words and in the shadows of 
day, trying to pull you back, make everything
right again, especially her; if only I'd been 
there that day.


Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

44 Comments

Filed under awareness, death, Free Verse, grief, life, poem, quote