Category Archives: mindfulness

August 29, 2022 · 2:21 pm

Letting The Gates Open – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

“Life is without meaning. You bring meaning to it.” Joseph Campbell

Letting The Gates Open

Making meaning is the gift of myth,
an imagineering of shifted shapeness,
a wasabi like future of inlaid redemption,
minds made and unmade as refolding clay.

An imagineering of shifted shapeness,
the undressing of facades and stereotypes,
minds made and unmade as refolding clay,
remoulding actions as arcade possibilities.

The undressing of facades and stereotypes,
letting the gates open so the horses can bolt,
remoulding actions as arcade possibilities,
creating fluid arcs of understanding.

Letting the gates open so the horses can bolt,
a wasabi like future of inlaid redemption,
creating fluid arcs of understanding,
making meaning is the gift of myth.


Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®️

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August 27, 2022 · 4:01 pm

We Settled For Life – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

“I have learned that to be with those I like is enough.” Walt Whitman 

We Settled For Life

We settled for the bird song
rather than fill this sacredness
with endless sounds, like 
crashing cymbals, that is the
gum mongering of contention.

We settled for the quietude of
wind scattering leaves around,
rather than rush around the 
clock who is the root of modern
guilt and the asphyxiation of earth.

We settled for sunrise and set,
watching the colour reveals
rather than live a monochrome 
sadness that is the grieving eye
of missed intimacies recounted.

We settled for life as we found it,
being satisfied to breathe,
eschewing all harbingers of early death, 
the psychosis of projected living,
we settled for love.


Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
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August 25, 2022 · 3:04 pm

To Ponder – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

“In an age of constant movement, nothing is more urgent than sitting still.” Pico Iyer 

To Ponder

The tired chair said rest awhile and
I thought I would sit with you in
this silence of soul as we listen to
our inner confusions and longings,
observe our shifts and feelings of
stored experiences and ponder 
what movements stir in this moment,
and ask why they are barely whispers
along this worn road.

After a time the shadows covered me,
all was deeply quiet and I noticed
that you had gone. Were you there 
at all?

The old dragonfly smiled as it dallied.


Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
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August 24, 2022 · 3:49 pm

Perhaps It’s The Cypress After All – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse guest host Jo is hosting Poetics with an invitation to write about scent.

dVerse Poets – Poetics – A World of Common Scents

Photo: State Forest reserve in Kirup, Western Australia, forests have their own, very complex scents.

“She stood for a long time breathing in and breathing in, the scent of the trees ….” Margaret Atwood

Perhaps It's The Cypress After All

Cypress stirs my body memory,
so too the wattle blossom of winter,
ah, yes, the wet dog after rain at the
salted, seaweed strewn beach remains,
along with cinnamon toast on a cold 
night's mist, the sweat of love pulsing
my inarticulate flesh, simple scents, 
the easy embodiments of youth.

But what of the hidden things,
is there a scent for wisdom or
compassion, is there a scent for 
soul, for reflection? 

Perhaps it's the cypress after all.



Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
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August 19, 2022 · 3:13 pm

Curiosity – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

“A prudent question is one-half of wisdom.” Francis Bacon

Curiosity

Asking questions,
that's the way to go,
to be curious
about everything,
knowing nothing,
waiting for beginnings
rather than endings,
never certain of those 
who claim truths as 
self-evident, as if the
tooth-fairy was real,
with expectation that 
we would follow suit,
like lemmings over a
cliff of credulity,
never, I say,
let go of being curious.


Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
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August 15, 2022 · 3:07 pm

I Take Hope In That – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

“A bird that fears falling off a tree branch is ignorant of its gifts.” Matshona Dhilwayo 

I Take Hope In That

I closed my eyes and 
ran my hands along the top rail of the farm gate,
its gnarled timber long massaged by many hands, 
washed smooth by decades of rain, 
opening up the ancient grain with 
striated streaks along its length, 
where moss and lichen breathe and tiny
things hide beyond the eye,
the smell of lanolin brings welcome memories,
and though its nails and screws are looser now, 
a sag visible with scrape lines in the dirt, 
the gate is ever strong, standing firm, 
and I take hope in that.


Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
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August 8, 2022 · 4:06 pm

So I’ll Say It Again – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Video: Beedelup State Forrest, Mundaring, there’s always something more, rain, sound, birds, wind, feelings, smells ….

“For me, the opposite of scarcity is not abundance. It’s enough.” Brene Brown

So I'll Say It Again

Perhaps it hasn't been said
or, if it has, then too quietly
under the roar of everything,
and not-with-standing all 
that is ill round about us, 
right down to the wire of
possible despair, whether
we're counting moments or
holding the long view of it,
is knowing that this is not
all there is, there is always
something more.


Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
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August 4, 2022 · 2:55 pm

Somewhere Between – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Image by Ri Butov from Pixabay

“The moment is not found by seeking it, but by ceasing to escape from it.” James Pierce

Somewhere Between

Where am I?
I know I'm here,
but not yet really here,
I am somewhere else,
always I am somewhere else,
and just when I eschew the 
tentacles of the past or 
the talons of the future,
I am right there and not here,
which is where I desire to be.
Instead, I am somewhere between
heart and mind,
a limbo,
not a road.


Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
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August 2, 2022 · 3:06 pm

The Whole View – Haibun by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Merril is hosting Haibun Monday with an invitation to look up, and write about the experience.

dVerse Poets – Haibun – Look Up

Photo: Bluff Knoll, first you have to go down before you start to climb up the mount, here covered in fog and rain. This was a great days climb and well worth the experience.

“Everything in the universe has a rhythm, everything dances.” Maya Angelou 

The Whole View

My experiences of looking up are experiences of momentarily leaving myself, placing myself in the cosmos, letting go any singular rootedness and finding community with all things and all beings, animate and inanimate, rocks and trees, mountains, the sky and all it holds. I don't feel diminished by the bigness of it all, I feel included, and I feel moved to include all things. In that sense of acceptance comes a deep sense of harmony and belonging for me.

To look at the grandeur of a tree and trace its linear circuitry, to reach out to the sky and know its infinity, to view the mountain and feel its strength and presence, are deeply moving for me. Looking up at this mountain reminds I am not the centre of life, not even my own, I am simply a part of the whole that seeks life together. To look up at this mountain is a reminder that I have no control over it and no need to do so. The call of this mountain is to take pleasure in its gift of diverse experiences that enable me to know a little more about life and who I am and a lot of letting go and not knowing.

Looking up the mount
I saw the heavens opened
jasmine tea goes cold 


Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
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July 31, 2022 · 3:12 pm

What Do You Fear? – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: found at psychologytoday.com

“The measure of intelligence is the ability to change.” Albert Einstein 

What Do You Fear?

Fear has curled its fetid sinews around
our collective human throat choking 
the brain and placing us solely in the
amygdala, reactive, angry, turgid, 
anachronistic egos looking for a past
to make sense of the future,
taking refuge in childhood memories,
seeking comfort in the midst of change
by attacking everything that arises as
progress, as does every generation;
equality, divergence, health, gay, trans,
what does it matter to you, 
did you miss out, will you be murdered
in your sleep by a view of difference, 
or is it that you can't accept that what
mummy taught you isn't quite right?


Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
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