Category Archives: environment

January 21, 2020 · 2:24 pm

Redemption Rock -prose by Paul Vincent Cannon

dVerse Poetry – Prosery – The Rock Cries Out

Frank at dVerse has invited us to take the line “The rock cries out to us today, You may stand upon me, but do not hide your face.” and use in for a prose piece of 144 words.

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Photo: granite outcrop at Billyacatting with a Sheoak making good with a crevice.

 

“The rock cries out to us today, You may stand upon me, but do not hide your face.”  Maya Angelou

Redemption Rock

We behaved as tourists, observing, consuming, enjoying, but never once holding a sense of belonging or offering something resembling connection even though that space so clearly cried out for it. Now that the tide is turning and ancient forms are slowly taking their leave, we face a new, daunting prospect. Too late to redress the past of our blithe and callow turning away. Indeed, we are no longer at our leisure, no longer possessed of our sure identity, positing who we are and what we might do as if there were no words of opposition or external accountabilities. Gone are our hermetically sealed worlds. We stand at the threshold forced to face ourselves, and even the rock cries out to us today, You may stand upon me, but do not hide your face. Even in the face of death, nature still reconciles us.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

Paul, pvcann.com

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Filed under bush walking, Country, environment, life, mindfulness, nature, prose, quote

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January 19, 2020 · 2:14 pm

Moon Trick – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

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Photo: pixabay.com

 

“Never give up for that is just the place and time that the tide will turn.”  Harriet Beecher Stowe

 

Moon Trick

At five the shore was long,
as long as it would ever be today
or any other day,
and I had not taken the time to
remember this nor to ponder
that it it might remain so,
that the tide might not come back
today or any other day,
that the sand should be divorced,
she the grieving widow
uncovered by her beloved
exposed and bereft,
her tears captive to the sun,
but the moon played her trick
and covered the shore once again,
I left with joy in my heart
knowing that all the tears were gathered.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

Paul, pvcann.com

 

 

30 Comments

Filed under beach, environment, Free Verse, life, mindfulness, nature, poem, quote

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January 9, 2020 · 3:32 pm

Meta Carbo – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

dVerse Poets – Poetics – Let’s Get Elemental

Sarah at dVerse has invited us to write about the elements of the periodic table in whatever creative ways we choose. This is my second go, and this time I’ve chosen Carbon which, being an allotrope, gives us a variety of things, diamonds, coal 😦 , graphite, graphenes, and so on. It is for all occasions, it is a necessary part of forming oxygen, but it is also a major environmental problem too.

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Photo: istock.com

 

“The greatest threat to our planet is the belief that someone else will save it”  Robert Swan

 

Meta Carbo

Shining dangle trinket
an all occasion party type,
now retiring like quiet
Albrecht in a pencil thin garret,
sometimes darkly dark, though
more recently sneaky congestion
leaking all around me,
beautiful choking imbalance,
really hot stuff
searing my lungs,
everything,
no more the exchange
nothing can breathe,
leaving now,
disappearing through
a hole in the sky,
until, of course,
I change my carbon life.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

Paul, pvcann.com

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Filed under chemicals, Economics, environment, Free Verse, life, nature, poem, politics, quote, Science

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January 3, 2020 · 4:13 pm

Everyday – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

RDP Friday – Breathe

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Photo: livestrong.com

 

“Something in us is telling us we’re moving too fast, at a pace dictated by machines rather than anything human, and that unless we take conscious measures, we’ll permanently be out of breath.”  Pico Iyer

Everyday

Everyday at waking hoping,
longing for an
uprising of integrity,
a coup of love,
a kindness rebellion,
a riot of charity,
to overwhelm my senses,
and wash me with such gratitude,
that even now
I might breathe again
as I once did
long ago.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

Paul, pvcann.com.

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January 2, 2020 · 3:31 pm

The Place Is On Fire – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

RDP Thursday – Puce

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Photo: George Mill, Mallacoota.

Major fires burn across four states, two states have declared a state of emergency, the main fire in Western Australia is contained, but the east-west national road link is closed.

 

“The Monster is on its way to us ….”  Liv Casben, Bateman’s Bay.

The Place Is On Fire

The warnings have been made,
get out now before its too late,
and you sit waiting,
weighing the moment,
counting the imminent loss
as the glow gets closer
and azure turns to puce,
smoke fills your lungs,
while it sounds as if you’re
standing near roaring surf,
as the monster draws near,
and soon enough whole
twigs and sticks ablaze
float past on thick
thermal waves and
sparks catch in dry grass,
the place is on fire,
down to the water we go.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

Paul, pvcann.com

50 Comments

Filed under Country, environment, Forest, Free Verse, nature, poem, quote

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January 1, 2020 · 3:15 pm

Perhaps He Prayed – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

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Photo: abc.net.au

“We won’t embrace reckless targets and abandon our traditional industries that would risk Australian jobs while having no meaningful impact on the global climate.”  Australian Prime Minister Scott Morrison

Australia has been reluctant to engage climate change as politicians play to captains of industry and look to past glories of trade. Australia has been tardy on carbon emissions treating them with disdain and suspicion. The Prime Minister went on holiday amidst the national fire crisis, was slow to lead on the issue when he finally decided there was a crisis and came home, and though has flown over the sites closest, has not been on the ground very much, deadpanning the fires as a “backdrop to the cricket.” He was slow to deploy military assets. But the critical issue is that he’s not leading.

 

Perhaps He Prayed

Like a rabbit in the spotlight
he froze, glazed,
dithering and uncertain,
but hey, it’s summer
which is meant to be fun,
so he smiled and said strange words,
warm platitudes he’d heard from others
a generation ago,
all christmassy and matey,
don’t worry mate, she’ll be right,
so he did a little speech
just like the queen
but with no content
wittering on about the Aussie spirit,
and volunteers doing it for free,
then he lolled about with cricket players
and held a dinner party,
but that’s far safer than trying to
find Mallacoota or Batemans Bay
and stand with the widow,
the injured, and the bereft
in the scarred and murdered land,
where we hold solemn farewells
for flora and fauna,
what now your lump of coal
and disdain for wind turbines,
but you just can’t say the words
that really matter.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

Paul, pvcann.com

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December 23, 2019 · 3:20 pm

Waiting For Love – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

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Image: wallup.net

 

“But man (sic) is a part of nature, and his war against nature is inevitably a war against himself.”  Rachel Carson

 

Waiting For Love

She was such a stunning beauty
she made people gasp,
men wanted to ravish her,
and they did
till she was completely exhausted,
and yet she patiently gave them more,
she bared her breasts
and paraded shamelessly,
exciting with her voluptuous treasures
and the promise of more,
the jewels of her eyes glittered
inviting them to come one and all,
alas, in her naive generosity
she was sundered,
ruined and spent,
but those who have ravished her
have left her in the road
shamed and broken,
waiting for love.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

Paul, pvcann.com

20 Comments

Filed under Elegy, environment, Free Verse, grief, life, love, mindfulness, nature, poem, politics, quote

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December 4, 2019 · 3:54 pm

What Does Love Cost – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

dVerse Poets – Poetics

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Photo: charity.org

 

“Anticipate charity by preventing poverty.”  Maimonides

What Does Love Cost?

What does love for others really cost,
what pain to wash their feet,
to serve and walk in other’s shoes,
and feed the hungry too,
what might that mean?
to give my coat and
be vulnerable, what then?
To forgive, no, really forgive,
how would that feel?
To live with an integrity that
values every form of life,
never seeking gain,
just imagine if we were
careless for the things
that alienate, the machine of empire,
the greed and gorge of living,
if we turned our guns to plough-shares
and plastic into roads,
just imagine what love might cost,
and go and cash the cheque.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

Paul, pvcann.com

65 Comments

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November 27, 2019 · 2:53 pm

Mould – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

dVerse Poets – Poetics – Sylvia and Ted

Kim at dVerse has invited us to work on a form following the work of Sylvia Plath and Ted Hughes.

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Photo: PRWeb

“Am I not partly leaves and vegetable mould myself?”  Henry David Thoreau

 

Mould

The question arises
an urgency, of course,
it is a matter of choice

of light or darkness
it’s hard to prove,
but one or other

must, with patience, or
ultraviolet
light across the floor,

show clearly the mess
whether spore or slime
gathered in pools of

water sitting in
my blackened shower
carefully displayed,

creeping nemesis,
a trap of deathly
slippage so discreet.

 

©Paul Vincent Cannon

Paul, pvcann.com.

35 Comments

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November 15, 2019 · 3:29 pm

They Are Taking Down The Tree – prose by Paul Vincent Cannon

Last week at dVerse we were invited to write a 144 word prose piece based on a line from a Jane Kenyon poem. But I was also struck by the title of said poem – Taking Down The Tree – and I have used that for a further 144 word prose piece.

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Photo: saytrees.org

“Trees are the earth’s endless effort to speak to the listening heaven.”  Rabindranath Tagore

They Are Taking Down The Tree

The city workers come with steel teeth to eat our tree. It’s only mid-morn, and yet a darkness pervades the space before us, just as it must have done for anyone attending a public execution in the past. Powerless, we voice our dismay, but shields, batons and spray are on hand to hold our anger at bay. No presumption of innocence, no defence asked, guilty as charged! We’ve decided, says the Suit, policy obscure, too much mess, inconvenience, it’s old, it must go. And the workers laconically quote Nuremberg while wiping their hands. Powerless we watch as the teeth awaken with a roar, eager to chew and tear. They are taking down the tree. Piece by piece, a clinical kill. And as the final cut  is made, I’m powerless, rasping, struggling to breathe. They’ve cut my lungs across the street, across this darkening world.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

Paul, pvcann.com

39 Comments

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