Category Archives: psychology

Let The Real Surface – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Mish is hosting Poetics with an invitation to select an image by surrealist Erik Johansson, for more details follow the link below.

dVerse Poets – Poetics – Slipping Into Surrealism With Erik Johansson

Image: ‘this-one-2’ by Eric Johansson https://www.erikjo.com/work

“Until you make the unconscious conscious, it will direct your life, and you will call it fate.” Carl Jung

Let The Real Surface

Not everything is obvious,
mostly we ignore the shadow play,
we sublimate while submerging
all sense of what nips at our heels,
waving while we are silently drowning
in that which is buried deep within,
our front is very fetching, so acceptable,
yet all the while it is so volatile, 
and at the same, it is unreal,
though we dare not admit this
for fear of implosion,
there are glimpses in moments
of vulnerable reflection,
slivers of opportunity to
reverse the grip we hold so tightly,
glimpses easily dismissed if glossed,
in letting go, the real surfaces.


Copyright 2023 ©️Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®️

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The Wound We Tend – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: fleamarketgardening.org

“If we judge others, it is because we are judging something in ourselves of which we are unaware.” John A. Sanford

The Wound We Tend

I saw him in the distance
he walked awkwardly,
something was wrapped around his leg,
in the nearness I saw it was a birdcage,
only his leg was inside it,
a wound was visible on his thigh and
it seemed an invitation to ask,
he claimed it was from birth,
it had troubled him for a long time,
they said there was nothing to be done,
his body said he had resigned but his 
mouth offered that over the 
years he had adjusted to it.
I knew to be quiet,
I'm sure that what had formed in my mind
had all been said before,
but my face held the question;
he raised an eyebrow,
and said -
"At least you can see mine."



Copyright 2023 ©️Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®️ 

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Unless – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

“There is a crack in everything, that’s how the light gets in.” Leonard Cohen

Unless

The irony of seeking that which cannot be,
even when we know full well there is not
even the remotest possibility of success,
and still we pursue the end of the rainbow
in the forlorn addicted hope we could be wrong.
But there is no relief in this whirlwind of
desperation where missing the mark is
inevitable and perfection is a pointless fantasy,
a ghost of some miserable future,
unless,
unless we refuse to play it that way.


Copyright 2023 ©️Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®️ 

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Unsettled – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Image by Anja from Pixabay 

“The wind shows us how close to the edge we are.” Joan Didion

Unsettled

There are many things that unsettle me,
a gnawing sense of missing a commitment,
the arrival of those letters with a window,
running low on fuel out in the bush,
a visit to the dentist,
but nothing compares to the southerlies
that assault our house
rattling the eaves and raking the roof,
pushing on the glass,
sneaking through door frames,
bending trees,
interrupting sleep,
stealing summer,
surely a wind has other places to visit?


Copyright 2023 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All rights Reserved ®️ 

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And So I Begin – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Punam is hosting Poetics with an invitation to write about resolutions, offering a choice of five lines to that effect.

dVerse Poets – Poetics – Resolving to Resolve

The line I chose is – When you add something to the cupboard of life, subtract something.

Image by KarinKarin from Pixabay 

“All I do know is that as we age the weight of our unsorted baggage becomes …. much heavier with each passing year.”

Bruce Springsteen

And So I Begin

I finally cleaned out the spare room cupboard,
filling some boxes I'd kept for a purpose,
One I labelled "things undecided'
which overflowed,
the next was for items to keep 
which became two boxes,
naturally there was one for the op shop
which seemed to have more room in it
than when I began,
things went in 
and promptly came out again.

Of course, you can imagine
this all took some time,
and while I was merrily sorting
a mood of melancholy took hold of me,
unrelated items before me triggered
memories of people and places,
missed opportunities,
words spoken and unspoken,
wrong turns,
jangled relationships,
seems that my cupboard of life is full,
and a wisdom suggests that
when you add something to the 
cupboard of life,
subtract something,
and so I begin,
without resolution,
to sort the weight of my life.


Copyright 2023 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®️ 

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All In A Second – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

“Doubt is not a pleasant condition, but certainty is absurd.” Voltaire

All In A Second

Doubt, 
that husk building woodworm
who creeps carefully under my
glittering self-sureness,
taking its time,
waiting for the right moment 
to slot into my thought train,
leaving me in a gently unsettled
anaesthesia, disoriented, and 
without a map, all in second,
until the winds of reasoned
calm push aside the shadows
letting the sun in once again.


Copyright 2023 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®️ 

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Those Moments – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Mish is hosting the Quadrille (44 words) with an invitation to write about ice, or one of its word forms.

dVerse Poets – Quadrille

Photo: cottonbro studio at pexels.com

“Dread is a sympathetic antipathy and an antipathetic sympathy.” Soren Kierkegaard

Those Moments

There are moments forever
in my throat where my heart resides,
moments touched by conversations
eavesdropped from my past,
a knife,
felt a fist,
the phone call,
that crash,
he'll be alright
the ambulance is here,
chills run and
my spine turns to ice.


Copyright 2023 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®️ 

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The Eyes Have It – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: found on pinterest.com

“I’m convinced we all are voyeurs.” David Lynch


The Eyes Have It 

The eyes see
but the heart and mind battle interpretations,
setting agendas
making perceptions;
on any one day something, anything
might repeat never to be received the same,
always a turmoil of filters and contexts,
what once might be sublime
at a turn in time might just be ordinary,
after all, objectified life is still subjective
like when a glimpse of intimate longing occurs -
is it so simple and mundane, innocent,
a nothing
an invitation to memory,
perhaps a reminder (to buy some roses)?
The eye sees,
the mind remembers,
the heart plays its hand as it will.


Copyright 2023 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All rights Reserved ®️ 

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The Shattered Dream – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

“Withhold admiration from a narcissist and be disliked. Give it and be treated with indifference.” Mason Cooley

The Shattered Dream

When it all just sits unmoving, 
like a clog of hair in a drain,
and no amount of hoping will 
move it or restore the flow,
knowing that when something 
is broken beyond repair,
it cannot be put back together as 
you once dreamed it would,
in that child's wistful eye,
the mountain of dysfunction 
that will never be surmounted,
leaving us all waiting for the
moment that will never come.


Copyright 2023 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®️ 

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Heading Home, Not Lost – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Merril is hosting Poetics with an invitation to write a poem using at least two titles from a selection of pod-cast titles.

dVerse Poets – Poetics – Are You Listening?

Image: Graehawk at pixabay.com

“The moment of change is the only poem.” Adrienne Rich

Heading Home, Not Lost

It was as if I was never there,
I spoke and no word would leave my mouth,
those I knew turned away from me,
I was but a stranger in their presence,
no place felt like home,
though I was not lost
nothing seemed to fit, 
nothing made sense anymore,
nothing was as before,
and so I embraced it and
went home by another route.



Copyright 2023 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®️ 

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