Category Archives: poetry

Dangerous Game

Spying – Word of the Day

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Margaretha Geertruida MacLeod (nee Zelle) better known by her stage name Mata Hari (1876 – 1917), who was convicted by the French as a German spy during WW1. Historians have since demonstrated that she was betrayed by all, her lover, the French officers who recruited her, the justice system (an oxymoron if ever there was one), her fellow spies and others. She was convicted and executed even though there was no substantive evidence, other than that they said it was because as a woman she could not be trusted and she would use her wiles. She was indeed a victim, a scapegoat.

Dangerous Game

I was lost in your face,
your eyes sparkled
laughter like champagne.
You reeled me in,
my small talk generously indulged,
I thought one drink would cure my curiosity.
Besides, I had work to do,
family waiting.
But you had other plans,
your hand on mine
stroking.
Me all gibberish,
pulse racing,
I agreed.
Just how did you do that?
Furtive,
room 20,
you draped on the ottoman,
gold, bejewelled bra,
tiara.
Salome unveiled.
Beguiled, seduced,
I gave you my all.
My French for German,
secrets, unzipped,
pleasure washed over me
in waves of guilt.
Whispers exchanged,
I woke alone, betrayed.
Even so, for just one more touch,
I would trade anything.

©Paul Cannon

Paul,

pvcann.com

17 Comments

Filed under history, life, love, poetry, Sex, war

Day 2 – Lyric Challenge

Something – Lyrical Challenge Day 2

Thank you to OJSPRIDE for the challenge, go check out her blog.

So day two and my choice today is George Harrison’s ‘Something’ from the Beatles’ ‘Abbey Road’ album of 1969 (completed in August of that year). I am a fan of the Beatles, George in particular. This was his first A-side single with the band. This was the Beatles last recording as a band, though Let It Be, which was recorded in January 1969 was released in May 1970, so Let It Be was the last album to be released by the band.

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Something

Something in the way she moves
Attracts me like no other lover,
Something in the way she woos me.
I don’t want to leave her now,
You know I believe and how.

Somewhere in her smile she knows
That I don’t need no other lover.
Something in her style that shows me.
I don’t want to leave her now,
You know I believe and how.

You’re asking me will my love grow,
I don’t know, I don’t know.
You stick around now it may show,
I don’t know, I don’t know.

Something in the way she knows
And all I have to do is think of her,
Something in the things she shows me.
I don’t want to leave her now,
You know I believe and how.

 

©Harisongs Pty Ltd, George Harrison

My three nominations are for this challenge:

Fabric That Made Me

Crushed Caramel (Leaner At Love)

Words for Life

Rules:

Thank the person who nominated you.

Share one of yo ufavourite song/lyrics one at a time for three days.

Nominate three other bloggers each day.

Paul,

pvcann.com

 

12 Comments

Filed under challenge, music, poetry

An Anamnesis of Joy

Redolent – Word of the Day

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On the road to Jindalee, one of many places where a breakaway occurs creating sharp contrasts in colour and texture.

 

An Anamnesis Of Joy

To listen for the sound where there is none,
save for the elegance of birdsong,
nature’s grand opera.
Or a whistling breeze, when it can be bothered
to sigh along the gullies and through the trees.
The smell of eucalyptus, like laundry day,
nanna removing stains the old way.
Dust in my nostrils as my soles kiss the earth,
the crunch of grit,
and that dry feel of summer’s arrival.
The familiar buzz of flies,
a bead of sweat
released from winter’s cold cell.
And, overwhelmed by a sense of joy,
wanting to tell everyone,
I exclaim, again,
to no one in particular,
“I have no words!”
Just the silent liturgy of feeling,
An anamnesis of joy,
of a past now present once more.

©Paul Cannon

 

Paul,

pvcann.com

22 Comments

Filed under bush walking, Country, nature, poetry, seasons

Table of Memories

Abiding – Word of the Day

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Hardenbergia, one of many types native to Western Australia, this one found at Jarrah Loop walks between Bridgetown and Nannup. Not quite a puple-red like Aramanth, but purple nonetheless and that’s close enough for me. Aramanthine (adjective) means like, like aramanth. Aramanthine also carries the meaning unfading, everlasting. Aramanth comes from the Greek aramantos (αμαραντος) meaning unfading and was borrowed by poets (Milton, for one) to denote an imaginary flower that was unfading, everlasting.

 

Table of Memories

This table of memories,
its faded varnish
the dust of our journey.
Its timber laden with
the juice of many meals,
of coffee,
of conversations,
grief and hurt,
joy,
candles,
breathless lust,
plans,
dreams,
horizons.
Aramnanthine,
this table of unfading love,
our unvarnished life.

©Paul Cannon

 

Paul,

pvcann.com

5 Comments

Filed under life, love, poetry, Quadrille, romance

Eternal

Blossom – Word of the Day

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Another Wattle (Acacia) taken at Manea Reserve, the blossom is always so rich and golden, like miniature suns. Acacia carries a multitude of meanings, including; purity, fortitude, renewal, eternity and love.

 

Eternal 

After an aeternus
Helios landed with a thud
showering sparks across the land.
It must be so, because
the trees are ablaze,
golden with fire so bright
I averted my eyes, for
I could not hold your gaze.
You possessed me,
devoured my senses.

©Paul Cannon

 

Paul,

pvcann.com

31 Comments

Filed under astronomy, Country, nature, poetry, Quadrille

Vacant Mind

5 Lines – Vacation

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We’ve been more of a camping, bush travelling type of family. But a couple of years ago we decided to take the Ghan from Adelaide to Darwin. It was a great choice, and a great holiday.

Vacant Mind

Where are you?
mmm … O, sorry, I was miles away.
Really? I could see that.
I was thinking we should go on a holiday.
Yes but you’ve just been, miles away, again.

©Paul Cannon

 

Paul,

pvcann.com

16 Comments

Filed under Country, Five Lines, life, poetry, Trains

Tjukurpa

Harmony – Word of the Day

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Photo: Dry creek bed – the Hull River, Northern Territory. This particular spot is also the site of Kulpi Tjuntinya also called Lasseter’s Cave. The river is mostly dry on the surface, and runs underground. There are many soaks along its route. When it does rain heavily the water can be one third up the height of those trees, which given the width, is a mighty volume of water.

The Australian bush, long before white settlers, was well protected with the harmony of traditional law or Tjukurpa – pronounced Chookapah (following the Central and Western Desert peoples view). The law is an oral tradition handed on generation to generation and memorised. One of its central principles is respect for all the elements of nature because everthing is in relationship and everything has an effect. While the words harmony or balance are not explicit, the principles are evident in the way Australian indigenous peoples treat the land and each other.

 

In the Balance

Where once where trees lie salted plains
and dusty cattle ruts.
Camels, mines and 4x4s,
billabong and creek consumed.
Settlers coveted and misunderstood,
but the Anangu have wise ways,
and through their ancient dreaming,
there came ways of loving nature whole.

©Paul Cannon

 

Paul,

pvcann.com

20 Comments

Filed under bush walking, Country, environment, history, Indigenous, life, mindfulness, nature, poetry, Quadrille

Pure Folly

Piffle – Word of the Day

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The Folly was an 18th century English/French idea where a piece of architecture was built simply to decorate a garden or a field. While in Ireland some were used as a way of providing employment, in England they were mostly an indulgence of the wealthy. Many were replicas of the seven constructed wonders, famous castles, and other architecture. Some served a purpose, like a pavilion, but many were in fact, just decorative. There are, in my mind, plenty of modern equivalents.

 

Pure Folly

There you stand,
once as grand as Troy.
Now your weathered alabaster
and marble refinements are greyed,
pock marked, amd worn.
Your rondels as if ravens had plucked their eyes,
the adorning orb no longer shines
yet the sun has not set on you.
You look tired
ravaged by nature from whence you came.
Even so, you stand defiant
lasting testimony to decadence past,
a vision of something grand,
or, perhaps, a flight of fantasy.
As I ascend your steps to the heavens,
I hear the crowd roar and the clash of shields,
the Trojans quake,
O Helen.
Such folly in a folly.

©Paul Cannon

 

Paul,

pvcann.com

30 Comments

Filed under history, Mythology, poetry

Perseus

Constellation – Word of the Day

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Perseus

Son of Zeus and Danae,
sacker of cities, warrior,
hero by heart,
White Tiger of the West.
When Danae was threatened
you feted Polydectes with the head of Medusa,
that Gorgon.
And later, long before Heracles,
you rescued Andromeda from Cetus.
Many are your deeds,
and, though Homer was tight lipped,
at least Ptolemy gave you a place
after you had gone to the nothern skies.
There your light so shines,
a constellation of hope,
keeping company with your beloved,
keeping watch,
incorruptible,
lover of good.

©Paul Cannon

Paul,

pvcann.com

18 Comments

Filed under astronomy, history, Mythology, poetry, Space

Crime Scene

Investigation – Word of the Day

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Henbury Meteorite Conservation reserve, in the Northern Territory. One of twelve craters left by a meteorite 4,700 years ago. We found it a great place to explore. Scientists continue to investigate the particles and debris from the meteorite found here.

 

Crime Scene

Footsteps recede,
The silence is eerie,
only a sliver of light
as I carefully crack the door ajar.
No footmarks or fingerprints,
no signs of forced entry.
I open the door,
aha, just as I’d thought,
shelf’s empty,
Someone’s abducted my custard tart.

 

©Paul Cannon

 

Paul,

pvcann.com

37 Comments

Filed under astronomy, nature, poetry, Quadrille, Travel