Category Archives: injustice

Truly Free – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo (found on everipedia.org): Inside the former HM Maze Prison (formerly known as Long Kesh Detention Centre) in Northern Ireland where during the 1970s the British forces interned both IRA and Loyalist prisoners, and in 1981 where Bobby Sands (along with nine other prisoners) died while on hunger strike at the age of 27. The Prison has since been demolished except for a portion retained as historical. Part of the former prison was offered for use by the Eikon Centre for events.

“They may hold our bodies in the most inhuman conditions, but, while our minds are free, our victory is assured.” Bobby Sands

Truly Free

Prison walls incarcerate only those 
who willingly surrender their minds
in easy rapprochement, but the minds
who can transcend the ill facade with
songs of solidarity on their lips, and 
poems of promise in their hearts,  
prophesying to the end of evil; that is 
the mind no longer held, they are truly 
free, even in the last breath.


Copyright 2021 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

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Filed under Free Verse, history, identity, injustice, life, poem, politics, protest, quote

Leaving Me Anguished – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: ak6.picdn.net

“What makes life worth living?” Zane Grey

Leaving Me Anguished

Blue strobe caressing my windows,
the anguished youth reaching inside
himself, clutching at the boiling darkness,
seeking an expiation that just won't come,
hugging the closeness of healing oblivion,
his nightmare vocal choking my senses
with a tar blackness spreading over my
angelic reach, which cannot touch him,
voices of necessity collapse him in a 
vain sugared hope, but I didn't hear one 
note of redemption in the poverty of his
trusting surrender, leaving me anguished,
reaching inside myself to find any 
semblance of meaning.


Copyright 2021 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

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Filed under awareness, Free Verse, grief, injustice, justice, life, love, poem, quote

Swallowing Whole – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: images.wisegeek.com

“Violating human rights is integral to the project of neoliberalism ….” Arundhati Roy

Swallowing Whole

I'm bemused that so many people are fooled,
swallowing whole the telegenic performances
given by those who consume our lives
before they ultimately consume themselves.

Swallowing whole the telegenic performances,
so disingenuously masked by the greedsters 
before they ultimately consume themselves
on the vain, rude altar of corporate sacrifice.

So disingenuously masked by the greedsters,
opiate bait for the masses to be offered 
on the vain, rude altar of corporate sacrifice,
hoping for meaning among future generations.

Opiate bait for the masses to be offered,
given by those who consume our lives,
hoping for meaning among future generations,
I'm bemused that so many people are fooled.

Copyright 2021 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

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Filed under Economics, injustice, life, Pantoum, philosophy, poem, quote

Ended – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo by Camila Quintero Franco on Unsplash

“Suffering does not necessarily ennoble you.” Henry Louis Gates

Ended

When did we valorise the threshold of pain
creating heroes of suffering as if
bloodied carcasses were somehow a
thing of beauty and terminal bodies were
heavenly portraits of masochistic willpower,
a pulsating distorted erotica, but
when the cow lay beyond help out in the 
paddock, it was the vet who ended the 
worship with a liturgy of love.

Copyright 2021 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

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Filed under death, Free Verse, Ilness, injustice, life, poem, quote

The Trees Need Pruning – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: found at northescambia.com showing citrus canker.

“The trees which are pruned, watered and nurtured by caring hands bear the greatest fruits; it is the same with people.” Bryant McGill

The Trees Need Pruning

Who sets the rules,
how do we renegotiate the public space,
will trust ever re-emerge past the deep
suspicion that has been birthed in us,
formed by the canker of the rotting fruit
of moral crises, whose pith is obscene 
resistance to justice and the disturbing 
mnemonic of the slaughterhouses of
power, we have been here before, 
but now, more than ever, the trees 
need pruning.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

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A Time Is Coming – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: Sarah Richter Art, pixabay.com

“During times of universal deceit, telling the truth becomes a revolutionary act.” George Orwell

A Time Is Coming

The goose of innocence was raped by the proper gander
of importunate lies hidden openly in limpid eyes like
dark lakes of evil on which deceit so carefully floats
like lilies of affirmation with scent of something
foreboding, a sickly sweetness like rotting figs, the
triumph of tyranny over humanity in every generation,
until the heat of tyranny raises resistance and a time 
when the goose is no longer victim.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

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

True Scammers – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

VJs Weekly Challenge – Scam

Image: found at sites.tufts.edu

“The first sign of corruption in a society that is still alive is that the end justifies the means.” Georges Bernanos

True Scammers

Mendicants, tramps and vagabonds,
but not the one's you imagine or see,
instead, the one's you pay for who
rob you with glee, the one's in the 
penthouse, the mansion or three,
who prey on the orphans and widows 
and me, the one's with forked tongues
and a bible of lies, who hold morals 
like sewer rats or scandalous flies,
who star in movies where the poor die
as glorious martyrs for the victims of 
privilege whose wealth barely gets 
them by on a thousand a day. 
The truest scam is not Nigerian or 
emailed around, the truest of is
entirely voted and approved by us all.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

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Filed under Economics, Free Verse, injustice, life, philosophy, poem, quote

Fringe Angel – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Lisa is hosting Poetics with an invitation to consider four paths. I chose Fringe though edge works just as well.

dVerse Poets – Poetics – Edges and Fringes

Photo: america.aljazeera.com

“People who are homeless are not social inadequates. They are people without homes.” Sheila McKechnie

Fringe Angel

Suddenly,
on life's vacant fringe,
one cool autumn morn,
she appeared before me,
apart from the crowd,
with her tottering gait and
pungent threads with a 
sacredness of holes and 
Job's necrous ash, her
trolley full of rainbow's 
hope, she took in the 
vendor's stern eye and 
moved along, "not my 
problem" he muttered to 
no one but the sky,
leaving me wondering,
why is she not my problem?
Later, I saw her in the park,
tongues of fire all around her,
and a dove on her hand.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

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The Theft Of Truth – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo” A statue of Captain James Cook stands in Sydney’s Hyde Park on August 25, 2017, as Prime Minister Malcolm Turnbull labelled calls to change colonial-era monuments and the date of Australia Day, in attempts to better reflect the country’s indigenous past, as a ‘Stalinist’ exercise in re-writing history. A cultural debate intensified this week when prominent indigenous commentator Stan Grant dubbed the inscription “Discovered this territory 1770”, on a Sydney statue of 18th century British explorer Capitan James Cook, a “damaging myth”. / AFP PHOTO / WILLIAM WEST

“But the fear and contempt for Aboriginal people and culture, which perpetuated the lie of “Terra Nullius” for more than two centuries, is deeply institutionalised and far from quashed.” Sharon Collins

The Theft Of Truth 

His brass visage looked out to the 
east without emotion or recognition,
his eyes were dead much like his 
vision of a world his own,
a sparrows nest of lies and 
make-believe, all self-possessed,
like a smug little advert offering
heaven for a pfennig on a Sunday,
wild claims of the miraculous
wrapped in manure and given to 
a king as proof of something not
his to give or own and denying life
as it was, overlooking history before
him and claiming it was all his for 
the taking, denying breath and blood
despite the very rich history of 
plus 40,000 years of occupation
by the very real and first among us
in Gondwana, you thief of life
and meaning and all who have 
worshipped at your feet, be
damned.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

Note: Captain James Cook on an expedition navigated Australia’s east coast in 1770 which paved the way for British occupation. In 1776, January 26th Captain Arthur Phillip claimed sovereignty by the British crown over Australia. January 26th continues to be celebrated as “Australia Day” which remains a lie that denies the existence of Australia’s First Nations people. The High Court has ruled Terra Nullius” is indeed an obvious lie, but the process of undoing two centuries of entrenched racism is proving to be very difficult. While Cook contributed much to our understanding of the geography of the world, he also played his part in denying First Nation peoples their rightful place. Terra Nullius is Latin meaning “land belonging to no one.” Hence the lie.

Video: Midnight Oil feat. Jessica Mauboy and Tasman Keith “First Nation”

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Filed under Free Verse, history, identity, Indigenous, injustice, life, Native Title, poem, quote, Racism, Stolen Generation

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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Filed under awareness, Free Verse, identity, injustice, life, poem, quote