Category Archives: identity

That Strange Religion – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: thestar.com

“Why is it immoral to to be paid for an act that is perfectly legal if done for free?” Gloria Allred

That Strange Religion

"Hey
waddya lookin at mate?"
she snarled across the asphalt.

Oblivious
I realised the endearment
was for me.

She
at a distance,
fifties,
fishnets,
high, so high heels,
a belt for a skirt,
her lips as proud as
her pushup.

I
looked at the church door 
as I passed by,
an epiphany,
I shouted back
without judgement,
"O, just one of God's children."

She
grunted and ushered
her client into his car.
Her congregation,
his communion,
that strange religion.


Copyright 2023 ©️Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®️ 

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That’s When – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse De is hosting the Quadrille (44 words) with an invitation to write about being bold.

dVerse Poets – Quadrille – Boldly Go

“Jump and build your wings on the way down.” Ray Bradbury

That's When

No great oration
just standing in the gap
between antagonists,
catch in my throat,
a doubt in my mind,
which I wanted to speak into 
this lions den mayhem
where the prey bares her neck,
that's when I boldly shouted no.


Copyright 2023 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®️ 

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Invitation – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

“The patterns we perceive are determined by the stories we want to believe.” John Verndon

Invitation

As we consume time for
yet another trip around the sun
the question remains,
revolve or evolve?
Revolve begs that we attend to 
our underlying repetitions,
the patterns we pretend don't exist,
that we keep hidden in the shadows
so that we can't see them,
though the whole world sees them
and smiles that we pretend.
Evolve invites an unknown,
the departure lounge for
places of no visa,
transcending pathologies,
landing in true self.


Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®️ 

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Revision – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

“Who looks outside, dreams; who looks inside, awakens.” Carl Jung

Revision

For over a decade
almost standing still,
an eternal prologue
lived in a kind of conformity
unwilling in a
culture of good taste
until,
finally,
profound changes,
fragmented self recognised,
at last dreaming long
of a shift between dark and light,
words laid bare
out of thin blue air,
yet to settle, 
yet to speak,
sifting the codes for directions
before they fade
into a decade.


Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®️ 

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Was I? – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: vivienviv0 at pixabay.com

“My grief lies all within.” Richard ll (William Shakespeare)

Was I?

Was I
acting out all those years
when contention was the main course,
when the presenting narrative was
dressed, nurtured anger,
the defence of victim
in the guise of one wounded,
worried, caring, burdened, concerned,
responsibility assumed,
how smooth, how blind, how real,
perfectly flawed,
what was I hiding, distracting,
what was I wanting, needing,
is that how I was?


Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®️ 

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Filed under awareness, grief, identity, poem, psychology, quote, shadow

Shall I Tell? – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

“Stories are a communal currency of humanity.” Tahir Shah

Shall I Tell?

Some things are worth noting
on the canvas of human life,
however lamentable they might be,
and some are lamentable but
we no longer have the luxury of assuming,
so we must gather together the strands,
give a sense of our flavour,
surely there is no original sin,
we're not that clever,
especially given that redemption
is merely a dollar off,
don't listen to those imposters,
they just love to story
their hero songs of self,
and I wonder if the myth is alright,
will it hold,
will it emerge, unfold,
without a narrative it's only money,
as stories go,
is this mine,
shall I tell?


Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®️ 

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There, In The Corner – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

“If we are able to see our own shadow and can bear knowing about it, then a small part of the problem has been solved.” Carl Jung

There, In The Corner

In the most darkest silence,
when all is perfectly still
and nothing cares to stir,
I set my mind to free-range
for a wander of my hidden self,
a revealing place of tropes and troves
beyond the dreams of famous writers,
treasures of carefully filed vignettes,
confessions of denial,
secret gardens,
Crimes and sorrows,
it has the lot,
and there in the corner in the
haloed light of night's demise,
I see a shade of shadow
playing at my edges.


Copyright 22 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®️ 

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Beside Myself – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: found on http://www.pinterest.co.uk “Looking at myself.”

“Association with human beings lures one into self-observation.” Franz Kafka

Beside Myself

I sat down next to myself,
I just wanted to see,
to notice,
the me I cannot see,
to observe those hidden things
that hide in my skin,
behind statements,
under clothes,
in polite conversations,
with thoughts while in repose,
standing back, 
looking on,
taking note of
what is so easily missed
in the illusions of the 
constructs of life.


Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®️ 

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Somewhere In The Middle – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

“Our capacity for self-deception has no known limits.” Michael Novak

Somewhere In The Middle

She tells her early life three ways,
the innocent child who was bullied 
by her calculating brother,
the young teen rejected by her
indifferent father or,
the older teen rescued by her
caring brother,
victim, martyr, sufferer,
and somewhere in the middle of 
it all lies the truth which has been
mangled and pressed down,
like a bitter vintage slowly sipped
until it no longer offends and
tastes sweet in the jumbled retelling,
a mask of normalcy and a ritual
that hides an inability to accept 
the lived experience. 


Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights reserved ®️ 

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Type? – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse De is hosting the Quadrille with an invitation to write a poem using the word type or any of its forms.

dVerse Poets – Quadrille – What’s Your Type?

Photo: mrmrsintagetypewriters.com. The once popular duck egg blue Imperial portable typewriter. We still have one in working order, it outlived the Brother Electronic typewriter.

“There has been, is, and always will be every conceivable type of person.” E.M. Forster

Type?

Did Cicero use helvetica or
plain it with times roman,
and how did Gurdjieff get
nine or Jung four, while 
chapman gave love five,
and who knows if I'm 
sagacious, diabetic, alpha, 
A positive or negative?
I do know imperial is my type.


Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®️ 

22 Comments

Filed under Free Verse, identity, life, poem, psychology, Quadrille, quote