Category Archives: injustice

November 11, 2020 · 3:21 pm

Just Let Her Speak – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Peter is hosting Poetics and has invited us write a poem as witness (to a news event or an event).

dVerse Poets – Poetics – Poetry as Witness

Photo: Luke Stephenson, ABC News – Australian PM Scott Morrison interrupts Senator Anne Ruston who was asked about the culture of misogyny in the Australian Parliament, therefore ironically proving the point. The PM has long been questioned about his attitude to women. The question was set against the background of a public outing of government ministers who have had relationships (affairs) with their staffers (therefore a power relationship).

“Misogyny is hostility toward the women who threaten to remove the male status as superior to women.” Jill A. Stoddard

Just Let Her Speak

She appeared dressed for the microphone,
I even saw her lips move in pantomime,
but you voiced her down,
wrapping her in shrouds of misogyny,
swaddled her in your patriarchal goitre,
and gave your words to her lips
as you pigeon-chested the throng
with your smirk faced denouement,
a coda of lament for the poor boys
whose groins yearned for possession
of skirted public property,
how could you possibly listen
let alone reflect,
you members of parliament erect,
she appeared dressed for the microphone,
just let her speak.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

Note: Misogyny:  from the Greek misein (μισειν) hate + gyne (γυνε) woman.

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October 13, 2020 · 3:16 pm

So Tricky (Really) – prose by Paul Vincent Cannon

Kim at dVerse is hosting Prosery, and she has given us a D.H. Lawrence line – “We look at him through the wrong end of the long telescope of time.” from his poem ‘Hummingbird.’ dVerse Poets – Prosery – Telescope of Time

Photo: ya-native.com Wounded Knee protest 1973

“I think we ought to move tanks, the whole goddamned thing. Put a division in there, if necessary ….” Richard Nixon

So Tricky (Really)

Even though we look at him through the wrong end of the telescope of time doesn’t change the simple fact that he is still the same. Making him smaller doesn’t make him any less. And time is not elastic enough to change the facts, you can’t wallpaper over the truth, no matter how hard you try. No amount of forgiveness will enable forgetting. I know that those who’ve come after him have certainly made him look better, but really he’s not. To say one thing and do another, to promise what you know you will never do, never want to do, in spite of the innocent lives you trammelled, never even cared about. And for what, the vainglory of just maybe being a hero? The plumbers let you down? That wasn’t the real issue. Your smallness was your need to have power.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

The litany of Wounded Knee, Kent State, Vietnam, Cambodia, Watergate ….

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October 8, 2020 · 4:24 pm

The Darkness You Bring – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: bigstockphoto.com

“The essence of lying is in deception, not in words” John Ruskin

The Darkness You Bring

In the darkness of my moments,
those particular moments of keen
observation that I extract from my
wounded veneer comes a cacophony 
of retorts to show my indignation
that you are less than you said you were
in your arrogant summation of self that
placed you above while yet you were below,
at least when I took privilege to judge you it
certainly seemed so, and you were so utterly
disappointing and yet it is not I you offend,
but the very world of innocence and, though
I would do nothing in response you are no
less lighter in the weight of the darkness
you bring which leaves us all desperately 
looking for light we cannot find in ourselves,
but you came to this in your own way,
no one set the axe to your foundation,
you cut yourself down

©Paul Vincent Cannon

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September 25, 2020 · 3:20 pm

Dear Leaders – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Grace at dVerse is hosting Meeting the Bar, and the theme we are invited to write about is Protest. dVerse Poets – Meeting the Bar – Protest Poetry

Photo: ocjndaily.com Ocean City, New Jersey, a protest in response to the murder of George Floyd.

“There may be times when we are powerless to prevent injustice, but there must never be a time when we fail to protest.” Elie Wiesel 

Dear Leaders

There is no life in you,
you who are nothing more
than a husk blowing in the 
winds of rebellion,
I see your guns and gas
uniformed in fear of decency as
you sneer at the sensitivities of
ordinary people concerned for
some semblance of democracy
midst the pious, honeyed corruption
you pedal to steal the dreams of
our children as you piss in our waters
and foul our fields with your 
poisonous rhetoric so religiously
flavoured as to make God vomit,
while you continue to kill your 
own as if blood stains down your
highways is some note of triumph
for the totems you bend to in your 
spineless dereliction of humanity.
You can kill my body but you will
never kill my enduring spirit that
is me, we, together naming your
legacy of fetid lies and murder,
and we will make a road of integrity
to pass right over you without 
memorial or reward save for some
flowers to mark the hollow graves
that you are.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

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August 21, 2020 · 3:08 pm

Shouting Underwater – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Linda at dVerse is hosting Open Link Night where ewe are invited to post a poem of choice. dVerse Poets – Open Link Night

Photo: http://www.stockunlimited.com

“Any government that places profit before people is pure evil.” Suzy Kassem 

Shouting Underwater

Those babble mouths,
always a crooked apologia for
crack cocaine capitalism's
endemic asset stripping
dealers who're always
powdering their own noses,
yet always the stench of decay
seeps through everywhere,
gaslighting the streets,
curbing panaceas
left, right and centre,
and I feel as if I'm
on fire and shouting
underwater.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

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July 23, 2020 · 3:15 pm

Prepare Yourselves – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: dreamstime.com

“The seed of revolution is repression.” Woodrow Wilson

Prepare Yourselves

Scions of Richard the lll,
we the sheep are so tired of
your eternal and turbulent days
where we walk among wolves,
devoured by your lies that 
suck the life out of us like
walking through a field of mud
that sucks the boots off your feet
impeding any will to motion,
well, prepare yourselves
because we the sheep
are flocking together.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

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July 13, 2020 · 12:29 pm

The Very Game – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: theswaddle.com

“Honesty is a very expensive gift. Don’t expect it from cheap people.” Warren Buffet

The Very Game

Crazy you say,
and sensitive too, as well
as insecure and jealous,
overreacting you say,
it was just a joke so
just let it go why don't you,
besides, you're just
imagining these things,
but I can see clearly
with added acuity 
by your gaslight,
the very game you play.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

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July 8, 2020 · 3:07 pm

Their Humanity – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: thinglink.com Still from the 1968 musical ‘Oliver twist’

“When I give food to the poor, they call me a saint. When I ask why the poor have no food, they call me a communist.” Dom Helder Camara

Their Humanity

Why do you fear that
helping another will cheat 
you of all that you dream
for yourself, and that your small
piece will be taken by those less 
deserving of their humanity,
that it takes away your veneer of
appearing caring when you give
so little and the self-righteous
judgements you offer, that their
poverty is clearly deserved, and
besides, it is your superpower to 
divvy droplets of coin like cheap 
salvation so long as someone is
watching your performance?
Why do you imagine that the
world is just for you?

©Paul Vincent Cannon

Note: Following Camara’s famous comment I note that it is still the case that it is easy to pillory or dismiss people who become concerned for the plight of others as ‘leftist’, ‘communist’, ‘socialist’, ‘social democrat’, ‘democrat’, ‘Christian democrat’, Greens and etc., etc.

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July 2, 2020 · 3:18 pm

Rising – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

VJs Weekly Challenge – Pace

Photo: theguardian.com The statue of the slave trader Edward Colston (1636 – 1721) comes down, his company was responsible for the capture, transport and sale of 100,000 slaves in the Caribbean and the Americas. Colston made his fortune from slave trading, and, not-with-standing that he later became a philanthropist, his wealth and life flourished by the misery of others. I my view, people who profit from the misery of others do not deserve any public recognition or honour.

“I know the removal of the Colston statue will divide opinion, as the statue itself has done for many years. However it’s important to listen to those who found the statue an affront to humanity.” Marvin Rees (Mayor of Bristol)

Rising

The statues of subjugation crash
to the ground of the past,
we're loving a new now,
the beginning of future dreams,
free-ranged, unwrapped,
letting go Aquarius' aged darkness,
rising to unison of heart,
pace the whispers of worm tongues
who would hold oppression lightly,
but whose account is well due.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

Note: I have used pace in preposition form, expressing disagreement with worm tongues with those who support enslavement of any kind.

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June 29, 2020 · 3:10 pm

Weasel Ways – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: pixabay.com A weasel

Five Lines

“Weasel words from mollycoddles will never do when the day demands prophetic clarity from great hearts.” Theodore Roosevelt

Weasel Ways

It was your delicious moment,
a pause in the flow of words and,
like a weasel with an egg, you
sucked the life out of my words
and I faded away.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

Note: A Weasel is of the genus Mustela (which includes stoats, polecats, mink, ferrets, otters, wolverines, martins etc.) one of their habits is to suck the contents of an egg leaving the shell behind. In 1900 the term Weasel Words was coined to reflect words that suck the meaning out of other words, e.g. organised chaos, some people say, experts recommend, are all weasel words.

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