Category Archives: injustice

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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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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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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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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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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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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Filed under community, Economics, Free Verse, injustice, justice, life, philosophy, poem, politics, poverty, protest, quote, Racism

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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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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