Category Archives: dreams

May 30, 2020 · 2:14 pm

No One Could Hear Me – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: bbc.com
"A Riot is the language of the unheard." 

No One Could Hear Me

I dreamt a torrid dream,
that I was in a grand hall
and no one could hear me speak,
but everyone laughed at me,
pushed and shoved me,
took my coat,
punched and kicked,
spat at me, 
robbed me of everything
even my dignity,
I called for help,
no one came, 
they jeered it was my place,
to accept their fate for me,
so, I set fire to a chair and
burned the hall to the ground,
perhaps you can hear me now?

©Paul Vincent Cannon

Paul, pvcann.com

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May 27, 2020 · 4:15 pm

There Was A Room – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

dVerse Poets – Poetics – Make Me Some Room

Laura at dVerse has invited us to write about a room or rooms in whatever manner.

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Image: wakeup-world.com

 

“I am not absent-minded.  It is the presence of mind that makes me unaware of everything else.”  G.K. Chesterton

There Was A Room

Once,
I had memories of an outside world
that I never left, but never lived
since the solace of solitude
there was another place,
my room within a room,
I vaguely remember,
was it large or small,
attic or other?
To know is never important
whether the room was in me
or I in the room,
there was a room.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

Paul, pvcann.com

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May 8, 2020 · 3:22 pm

Did I Dream This? – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

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Image: pixabay.com

 

“Hold fast to dreams, for if dreams die, life is a broken-winged bird that cannot fly.”  Langston Hughes

Did I Dream This?

Did I dream this,
wanting to see between layers,
to trace these images
and go beyond
where the dream is warm to
loud words of silence
overflowing white space,
where everything disappears
that originates in us,
hungering,
fainting,
desiring,
to repel unhappiness,
did I dream this?

©Paul Vincent Cannon

Paul, pvcann.com

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March 23, 2020 · 2:58 pm

For A Rainy Day – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

VJs Weekly Challenge – Imaginary

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Image: istockphoto.com

 

“The real world is much smaller than the imaginary one.”  Friedrich Nietzsche

For A Rainy Day

I bought an imaginary
just the other day,
took it home and
kept in its box
for a rainy day,
I peeked,
watching it glow
as it beat like a heart
of swirling colour,
then today I set it free
ending the darkness.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

Paul, pvcann.com

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March 12, 2020 · 11:53 pm

Captive To A Dream – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

VJs Weekly Challenge – Morning

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Photo: Looking out from the lake to South Bunbury and the morning rise.

 

“This is a wonderful day, I have never seen this one before.”  Maya Angelou

Captive To A Dream

Morning arrived,
I’m not sure how,
it evolved as an interruption
of which I was ambivalent,
I was captive to a dream,
yet I wanted to rise to the day,
but, I wanted to sleep
and I wanted this dream
through which I could see myself,
could see the world where I
understood that I did not understand.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

Paul, pvcann.com

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March 9, 2020 · 1:39 pm

Carrying Me Through – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

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Image: http://www.desktopwallpapers4.me

 

“Wherever there are birds, there is hope.”  Mehmet Murat lldan

Carrying Me Through

Radiant horizon ball,
pale orange delight,
silvering the black water
to its feathered edge,
expurgating the darkness
below my skin,
the place of memories
birthed so long ago
now taking flight
as night geese,
angels of fortune,
carrying me through
a dream within dreams.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

Paul, pvcann.com

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March 1, 2020 · 2:20 pm

Where Does The Dreamer Dwell? – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

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Art: Michael Vincent Manalo – Imagined Memories found at: dodho.com

 

“Dreams are often most profound when they seem the most crazy.”  Sigmund Freud

 

 

Where Does The Dreamer Dwell?

Where does the dreamer dwell?
in the house of memories
with an attic of dreams
speaking the rooms of life
as if they breathed,
enfleshed, feeling eons
while wallpaper yellows
dust as language
creasing the throat, though
not diminishing the sound
that must be made,
even though
only the dreamer hears
where they dwell.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

Paul, pvcann.com

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January 29, 2020 · 3:17 pm

I Swam Through Rooms – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

dVerse Poets – Poetics – Dream

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Photo: pixabay.com

 

“Dreams are illustrations …. from the book your soul is writing about you.”  Marsha Norman

I Swam Through Rooms

At some point
when time slipped into time
and lost itself,
I joined in and found my way,
it jumbled in my eyes,
so fast, so slow,
and back again,
a chain,
a heron,
boats and trains
all upside down
floating,
as winged beast hovered overhead
mysterious doors and coloured lights
glowed all around,
and I swam through rooms,
dived through windows,
such a rollercoaster ride,
till mystery entered,
a shadowy figure
inviting me to follow.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

Paul, pvcann.com

 

 

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December 21, 2019 · 3:29 pm

I Had Let Go – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

RDP Saturday – Joy

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Photo: dreamstime.com

 

“those who prepared for all the emergencies of life beforehand may equip themselves at the expense of joy.”  E.M. Forster

 

I Had Let Go

I stood by the graveside of my mind
and peered beyond the edge
into the void of my crowded hour,
and found the door to a
feathered lightness of grief
where I floated on wings of joy,
such that there were no words
possible to speak with any sense
of meaning other than that
I had let go.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

Paul, pvcann.com

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December 18, 2019 · 4:07 pm

Birthed By Love – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

dVErse Poets – Poetics – New Year/New World

Mish at dVerse has invited us to imagine a world that is new ….

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Photo: the upper reaches of the Hardy Inlet, where Blackwood River enters on the left, and the Scott River enters directly opposite. Taken from Flat Rock, an idyllic and peaceful  ‘world.’

 

“We can only know what we can truly imagine. finally what we see comes from ourselves.”  Marge Piercy

 

Birthed By Love

I closed my eyes to take in the world,
to feel the ancient wisdom of the trees,
the river running by, softly speaking a
quiet truth beneath its tempest,
and always the still centre of the breeze,
drawing me intimately closer,
truths I hold within and cherish.
a compass of heart for many roads
of living through the tempests of life,
and as I open my eyes again,
the peace surpassed lingers deep
nourishing my soul.
and once again I know the oft
forgotten truth that the
vey utopia I desire
rests within and is
birthed by love.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

Paul, pvcann,com

 

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