Category Archives: politics

Madame Smiled – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Eat The Rich – dVerse Poets – Quadrille

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Painting: archief.amsterdam

“They call me a tyrant … one arrives at a tyrant’s throne by the help of scoundrels … What faction do I belong to? You yourselves. What is that faction which, since the revolution began, has crushed the factions and swept away hireling traitors? It is you, it is the people, it is the the principles of the Revolution …”   Maxilien Robespierre’ last speech to the Convention in 1794.”

 

Madame Smiled

Maximilien smiled,
such cherubic cheeks,
as baskets filled while
terror reigned
slice by slice
to the cheers of the
First Estate
until,
sated,
Madame could eat no more,
Public Safety now redundant
Madame smiled and chose
Maximilien for her rich
dessert,
a cut above.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

 

Note: Maximilien Robespierre, was the primary (though not the sole) architect of the Reign of Terror 1792 – 94 (though often disputed). The Terror produced 16.593 “official’ deaths! Madame refers to Madame Guillotine – a colloquial term. The Terror ended with the execution of its primary architect, irony indeed!

Paul, pvcann.com

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Electile Dysfunction – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Fog – Word of the DayIMG_0029.jpeg

Photo: View of the car park at the foot of Bluff Knoll, taken from the half-way point through the lifting fog.

“To win the people, always cook them some savoury that pleases them.”  Aristophanes, ‘The Knights’

Electile Dysfunction

Precipitation reigned raining
as damp held court and
mystery rose to the heavens
where nothing was said
and the veil remained
holding me without a vision,
moving slowly
not knowing which way to go
I ascended the mountain
trusting feet over eyes,
receiving pedestrian news
until,
finally,
the veil lifted cracked
and I caught
infinitesimal hope,
just down in the
bottom corner,
that the sun might yet
warm the heart
of this broken land.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

Paul, pvcann.com

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Filed under Free Verse, grief, life, Mountaineering, poem, politics, quote

Abundance Patented – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Cornucopia – RDP Thursday

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Photo: pixabay.com

“Growth for the sake of growth is the ideology of cancer.”  Edward Abbey.

 

Abundance Patented

Adam’s spawn did play a game,
a nasty little game so spiteful,
turning the earth’s abundance
to a paucity
an economics of scarcity
to benefit the few and
starve the many,
for giggles did they
sup in full view
on the horn of plenty
thumbing their noses at death,
who smiled.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

 

Paul, pvcann.com

17 Comments

Filed under Economics, Free Verse, life, philosophy, poetry, politics, quote

Once Again – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Rise – dVerse Poets – Quadrille

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Image: Honore Daumier’s painting “The Uprising” 1860.

 

Once Again

The bakery opened with a flourish
and the baker said,
“rejoice, eat cake”
but soon he only offered
stale breads, yet
the people continued to pay,
timidly accepting his insult
without thought, but lately
I’ve been feeling that our
yeast will rise once again.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

 

Paul, pvcann.com

 

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Ramparts Of Fear – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Fort – Word of the Day1280x720xPeople-voting_0.jpg,qitok=zWThzCQZ.pagespeed.ic.xqc6Jjp7Cg.jpg

Photo: cefs.org.au

Ramparts Of Fear

We built that fort from a dream
but the fantasy became a nightmare
as we dug that ditch of despair
and erected a palisade of sharp invective,
towers of lies,
ramparts of fear,
aiming our ideological long bows
at every initiative with
which we disagreed with vituperation,
locking the gates against reason,
and executing those who believed in change.

 

©Paul Vincent Cannon

 

Paul, pvcann.com

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Of Possibilities – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

World – Word of the Day

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Photo: pixabay.com

 

Of Possibilities

His tiny mind
reduced everything to a
post card ideology
of spittle speeches
and dilated visions of alarm,
waving meaningless symbols
ever building narrow dreams
of darkness in disguise,
a univocal monochrome
of controlled delight,
he blathered on
endlessly reciting
mantras of power
and praising hatreds
while I looked out the window
at a beautiful reality
of abundance,
stirring possibilities
of everything so global.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

 

Paul, pvcann.com

43 Comments

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No – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

For Them That Be Wild Things – Cafe Philos Poetry Prompt

This prompt began recently at Cafe Philos – Paul Sunstone’s Blog, have a look please.

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The defiance of August Landmesser who refused to give the salute at a Nazi rally at his work place.

“Civil disobedience is not the problem, our problem is obedience.”  Howard Zinn

 

No

The dogmatics
that straight lines are the only way
is mere moralism
that suffocates
a humanity
content to be obedient
to the subjectivity
of those who laugh over us
in waves of contempt,
marching under the flag
devoid of anything
other than self-indulgence
and the murder of minds
for better worlds
that are still-born
of wombs imprisoned
inside tiny thoughts.
But to stand,
to stick it to the dogma man
is to
walk to Dandi for a lick of salt,
be chained to railings for a vote,
to ride a bus and insult,
march the mall,
go to prison,
burn a flag
and bare the breast,
equality, liberty, community,
the tripartite
way to say no.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

 

Paul, pvcann.com

44 Comments

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Beautiful Uppercut – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Uppercut – Word of the Day

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Photo: unsplash.com

 

Beautiful Uppercut

Some things just aren’t right,
we were talking about slogans,
we were talking about plight,
but we were polarity,
binary to a tee,
I could see his humanity,
I could beg to differ,
on this pleasant cliff of pontification,
suffered tolerably over a beer.
But when he blamed the victims,
well,
that’s when I hit him,
and my words curled in a beautiful uppercut,
that knocked the wind out of his
sails of ignorance.
Some things just aren’t right,
and the violence of ignorance,
is intolerable,
and, when he confessed,
well,
that’s when I bought him a beer.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

 

Paul, pvcann.com

25 Comments

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Alakazam, Be Gone! – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Imagine – Word of the Day

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Photo: delawarestatenews.net

Alakazam, Be Gone!

In the house painted white,
with a head like a coronet cavy,
lives a munchausen narcissi,
a tautological wonder,
that blunder,
who shut the door
in the face of all
that is good and holy.
But I imagine him gone,
or, better still,
with daffodils in his hair,
singing Carly’s song (ironically),
as we shut him down,
for the good of all.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

 

Note: Since 1940 the one who sits in that house effects the whole world irrespective. Narcissi is, of course, Narcissus who fell in love with himself, and Narcissus is also the name for daffodil. A cavy is a guinea-pig. Carly is Carly Simon who sang “You’re so Vain.”

 

 

 

Paul, pvcann.com

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No Sides – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Squat – RDP

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Photo: c.tribune.com.pk

 

 

No Sides

The wrong side
of what is not entirely clear
to me,
but wrong it is said,
of this or that,
from left to right,
in our typical binary fashion,
a perfected duality,
raising the prospect of
who’s in, who’s out?
as if one bloodline is corrupted,
or wombs are so ideologically different,
or blue eyes are ascendant,
and wealth is of colour!
Well, there is no geography,
only doctrinaire fantasy,
a blindness to the heart,
a denial of love.
Of squatters there should be not,
and those who rejoice that there are,
know squat of human connection.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

 

Paul, pvcann.com

11 Comments

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