Category Archives: Humour

Of Course – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: grutka at pixabay.com

“A bottle of wine contains more philosophy than all the books in the world.” Louis Pasteur

Of Course

The wine played cunning tricks,
game on me it proposed,
look at your cookbooks, it said,
you cannot eat a single one of them,
and then I got to thinking, I couldn't
read the music score book either, 
nor could I fathom the manual for the
garage door remote, nor the schedule 
for the reticulation system, but I 
steadied myself, of course, and I 
fought back, retorting that, well, I'd
lived this long, and then the coup de gras,
I drank that insufferable wine and had 
another, just to make my point, of course.


Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

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Is That Why? – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: owntheyard.com

“You cannot dig a hole in a different place by digging the same one deeper.” Edward de Bono

Is That Why?

Why are holes always so difficult,
resisting the heaviest of sweats,
the greatest intentions of thrust,
the clay is stubborn and felt everywhere,
the sand exhausts as it slides in and in,
removing the turf is never that  simple,
while the tree roots are always attrition,
getting in to dig down is easy enough,
but getting out is another story,
is that why it's called a drain?


Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

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Filed under Free Verse, Gardening, Humour, life

The Bureaucratic Wet Dream – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo by Gianandrea Villa on Unsplash

“Red tape will often get in your way. It’s one of the reasons I carry scissors.” Richard Branson

The Bureaucratic  Wet Dream

Be careful,
have you checked,
where's your detailed plan,
are you sure you know what
you're doing, have you been
given approval, show me the 
triplicates, show me your 
qualifications, are you 
trained for this, is it safe,
should it be only indoors,
you can get training for this
but you'll need prerequisites,
and insurance, what's your
policy number, you must have 
a first aid certificate, and 
you'll have to provide us with
some references and referees,
don't sigh like that, it's the way 
we do things now, we're protecting 
you, for a fee, for a cut, for all your 
time, then we'll take your will to 
live and choke your aspiration,
and if we don't validate you,
you'll be shovelling shit for years,
so, play along, smile as if you 
really mean it, we do, it's a beautiful 
game, so long as you follow the 
hollow rules that help the trains
to run on time.



Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

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Filed under Free Verse, Humour, injustice, life, poem, politics, quote

Wood Would be Good – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: caouic at pixabay.com

“A craftsman knows in advance what the finished result will be, while the artist knows only what it will be when he has finished.” WH Auden. (I would say person and they as replacements)

Wood Would Be Good

The tree would wood if it could,
but it needs to be downed to the ground,
it's cellular ready and now well you are able,
its rigor mortis now mortised and cased,
after the lop with a chisel and chop
by that circular saw in line perpendicular,
no cringe for the perfect fit hinge,
all excited, so tidy and mitred,
the fumes from the stain filling my brain
as I hang, hammer, bang to the wall.


Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

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My Coquette – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Sarah is hosting poetics with an invitation to write about valentines that didn’t happen.

dVerse Poets – Poetics – After St. Valentine Left The Building

Photo: nastya_gepp at pixabay.com

“Never pretend to a love that you do not actually feel ….” Alan Watts

My Coquette

Your badge said Altamisa,
I'm sure you've fevered a few,
your smile jellied me right through,
and the crook of your finger
stumbled thoughts in my head.

The way you played your hair,
tell-tale sign of coy regard,
as fly to trout, down is my guard,
in vein my temples burst,
I'm hooked and baited.

I glance your ankles,
you catch my look,
reading me as if a book,
shifting your legs you show some more,
I love your plot, while losing mine.

Wanting to hold you,
longing to graze your lips,
he pushes past and the spell slips,
somehow I misread the lie,
but at the door you turn and wink.

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Filed under Free Verse, Humour, love, poem, quote

Honestly – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Mish is hosting the Quadrille (44 words) with an invitation to write a poem and use the word or any of its forms – Nibble

dVerse Poets – Quadrille – Nibble

Photo: jackmac34 at pixabay.com

“Look, there’s no metaphysics on earth like chocolate.” Fernando Pessoa

Honestly

In my defence the block was already open,
surely an invitation to nibble and, before I
knew it, I had downed three with glee, lustily
chomping with gusto I devoured the whole
lot and a horrible thought occurred, what if 
I hadn't been here?

Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

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That Smile – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Grace is hosting Poetry Form with an invitation to write a minute poem which consists of a narrative, rhymed, twelve lined poem of three quatrains based on a syllable system of 8.4.4.4.

dVerse Poets – Poetry Form – The Minute Poem

Photo: from driverlayer.com

“People should fall in love with their eyes closed.” Andy Warhol

That Smile

We aimed for bright turquoise roundels,
where nothing quells
love's long river,
ever giver

We found instead a yellowed sun
below such fun
of full embrace
revving the pace

Here nothing ever remains square
your wink my dare,
your gummy smile
I run a mile



Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

38 Comments

Filed under Humour, love, Minute Poem

The Bartleby – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Sanaa is hosting Poetics and has invited to use a minimalist photo (choice of 12) by Glenn Buttkus of South Sound Minimalist Photos.

dVerse Poets – Poetics – Exploring the Realm of Minimalist Photography

Photo courtesy of Glenn Buttkus (link above)

“Life moves on and so should we.” Spencer Johnson

The Bartleby

We named it the Bartleby because,
on most days, on most journeys it
preferred not to go anywhere at all,
to the point of disappointment so
irrupting that we persisted and 
pushed it to a limit of ourselves,
and the going was tougher than 
expected, until finally, a moment 
came when the wheels fell off our
manic endeavour, and there and 
then we left the Bartleby, much
preferring not to.

Copyright 2021 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®


Note: some of you may not be aware of the reference to Bartleby = 'Bartleby The Scrivener' by Herman Melville

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Monday’s Loaf – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: thekitchn.com

“…. you really can’t guess just by looking whether a particular mould staring at you is good or bad.” Healthy Canning

Monday's Loaf

Monday's loaf,
soft and moist,
became Tuesday's toast,
became Wednesday's crumbs
for filling the feast of poultry,
but that last slice of two,
somewhat stiff and firm,
had just a tinge of blue.

Copyright ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

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It’s Only A Spider – poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: Jake William Heckey on pixabay.com

“what is normal for the spider is chaos for the fly.” Charles Addams

It's Only A Spider

As soon as you think it,
there it is, coefficient,
a leg too soon, all long
and furry, dangling down
from your hair, joined by 
others as you feel it move,
then see its body, its eyes,
along your furrow groove,
and you sit up in bed and
open your mouth with a
scream, but it bears no 
sense of your irrational 
theme and scuttles away
across the vast doona 
wilderness as you hunt
for its end, forgetting 
again, that it's only a 
spider. 

©Paul Vincent Cannon

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Filed under Free Verse, Humour, nature, poem, quote