Category Archives: quote

Beyond This Moment – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Mish is hosting poetics with an invitation to write a poem using three words or more from a selection. My choices are: Orenda (mystical force), Querencia (place from where strength is drawn) and Isolophilia (preference fro solitude).

dVerse Poets - Poetics - There's a word for that

"They simply never understand, do they, that sometimes solitude is one of the most beautiful things on earth?" Charles Bukowski

Beyond This Moment

Orenda 
down the slopes of 
mountain minds and
valley redoubts of no intention, 
comes opportunity,
that moment of desire,
a la querencia, 
the turning of soul for home
in a quietude of frame,
longing in sighs for an end to
rivers of noise while
rejoicing in shivers of gaze,
a patient isolophilia that sits
so lightly it slips easily past
our defences and undoes 
the palisades of the heart,
inviting dreams and other worlds.


Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®️ 





































































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Filed under awareness, Free Verse, life, Philosophy/Theology, poem, quote, Spirituality

The Real Work – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Lisa is hosting the Quadrille (44 words) with an invitation to write about Work.

dVerse Poets – Quadrille – Work

“The mind’s first step to self-awareness must be through the body.” George A. Sheehan

The Real Work

Living ever forwards,
as if there was no past,
no questions to ask of ourselves,
never seeing how we are and
how we affect others is a 
profound dis-ease,
but to sit and observe and
notice what arises,
surely, this is the real work.


Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®️ 

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In The Forest – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

In this poem I have riffed on a line from ‘Sometimes’ by David Whyte the line is: “Sometimes if you move carefully through the forest.”

Photo: Beelup National Park, Mundaring.

“If you go off into a far, far, forest and get very quiet, you’ll come to understand that you’re connected to everything.” Alan Watts

In The Forest

Sometimes 
if you move carefully through the forest,
you might just hear your own dreamings
in the wind rustled leaves,
or see the loud beauty of a dew drop
preserved in such silence,
it is pristine at noon,
perhaps too the interventions 
of the raven's musings might 
raise resonance of feeling,
like the touch of damp humous
to the nose, or moss to the skin,
eucalyptus flavoured rain drops
splattering from leaves,
sending memories,
inspiring ideas,
leading me onwards.


Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®️ 


Below is Whyte's poem:



Sometimes   by David Whyte

Sometimes
if you move carefully
through the forest

breathing
like the ones
in the old stories

who could cross
a shimmering bed of dry leaves
without a sound, 

you come
to a place
whose only task

is to trouble you
with tiny
but frightening requests

conceived out of nowhere
but in this place
beginning to lead everywhere.

Requests to stop what
you are doing right now,
and

to stop what you
are becoming
while you do it,

questions
that can make
or unmake
a life,

questions
that have patiently
waited for you,

questions
that have no right
to go away.

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Filed under awareness, bush walking, Forest, Free Verse, life, nature, poem, quote

I Am A Thousand Winds That Blow – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

“True courage is like a kite; a contrary wind raises it higher.” John Petit-Senn

For this poem I took a line from Mary Frye’s ‘Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep.’ to riff with, mainly because it is a poem that I wrestle with, I experience Frye’s poem as wistful and I wanted to write a poem that expresses the reality of death but also honours the sense of spirit, of afterlife.

The line I have taken is “I am a thousand winds that blow.”

I Am A Thousand Winds That Blow

I am here and I am there,
in life, in death, 
I am everywhere,
I'm in the ground,
I'm in the urn,
in my bed I twist and turn.

I cannot deny that I am alive,
always buzzing I love to thrive
I cannot deny that I did die,
so mourn away and light the fire.

As the ash floats on the air,
don't embellish with too much flair,
let me go where I must go,
I am a thousand winds that blow.


Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®️ 

The original poem is below

Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep     by Mary Frye

Do not stand at my grave and weep;
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there.
I did not die.

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Filed under death, grief, poem, quote

What Words – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Image by Pana Koutloumpasis from Pixabay

“Of all forms of caution, caution in love is perhaps the most fatal to true happiness.” Bertrand Russell

What Words?

What words carry love that
can ease past pathologies of
self-doubt or loathing, even shame,
by which one cannot possibly be
equal to the feelings, let alone the
carriage of expectations that
inevitably seem to follow and the 
constructs that haunt our sense of
hidden self, safe self, not yet ready
for this turmoiled world of risk.
What words carry love?


Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®️ 

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Filed under Free Verse, life, love, poem, quote

Just Stop – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Image by StockSnap from Pixabay

“All of humanity’s problems stem from man’s inability to sit quietly in a room alone.” Blaise Pascal

Just Stop

I watched him for a while,
he didn't seem agitated,
but he fidgeted, moved,
seemed unsettled the 
whole time he sat,
though sat is moot,
he couldn't take his
eyes or his ears away 
from his phone,
his fingers constantly
caressed his chin,
his legs tangoed on
their own under the table,
I speculated, of course,
it was his way of coping
in public, who knows, 
but it's plausible,
even so, some people
just cannot sit and 
savour their coffee,
which was always an
excuse to stop and 
smell the beans.


Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®️ 

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I Wonder Which Way? – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse guest host Christopher is hosting Poetics with an invitation to write about choice.

dVerse Poets – Poetics – Choice

Image by Michael Knoll from Pixabay

“Freedom would be not to choose between black and white but to abjure such prescribed choices.” Theodor W. Adorno

I Wonder Which Way?

If only I could decide,
decide I would though, I note, 
the cheshire cat held no particular view.

A coin, a card, a fleece might do,
but at some point the trolley bus comes
for us all and, though it doesn't matter,
one way or another the dilemma must 
be resolved or forever remain in stasis,
immobile, arrested, atrophied,
is it fear?

We can only choose one way at a time,
and go we must, 
but I wonder which way?


Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®️ 

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Shedding – Haibun by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Mish is hosting Haibun Monday with an invitation to write about Shelter.

dVerse Poets – Haibun – Give Me Shelter

“A house is a home when it shelters the body and comforts the soul.” Phillip Moffit

Shedding

I sought the rusted sheets with popped springhead nails that constituted a place of imperfect refuge, where the wind rattled the loosening sheets with devilish thoughts of crisis, and the rain laughed in penetrating bullets of inaccuracy that threatened reality. The corrie strained and shifted with metallic moans that wrenched my gut as the rain drenched my sense of doubt.

In the shed I shed tears of sorrow as the storm passed both within and without, and I longed for the assurance of summer’s dry calm, that quiet air of warm repose offering slow, delicate thoughts of life so different to this winter of my soul. In letting go I found a peace of incomplete and imperfect arrival, with none of the expected sophistication of a revival of soul, just the plain ordinariness of self understanding.

In the shed I shed my skins of old, like a python letting a season’s past regress, and the salt that burned my cheeks retired. And though the memories are retained I no longer own them. This place of shelter from the elements is shelter from my storm.

Winter's rusted sheets
let water slowly leak in
my soul is hidden


Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®️ 

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Filed under awareness, Haibun, Haiku, life, psychology, quote, Therapy

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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Filed under community, life, mindfulness, Pantoum, poem, quote

In This Place – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

“None of us know all the potentialities that slumber in the spirit of the population.” Vaclav Havel

In This Place

In the slow solitude of empty chairs like
a melancholy wrapped in damp cardboard,
I have been left to close my eyes where
what lies unseen is now revealed
maybe for a hundred years of unwaking,
dissolved into a myriad tones of slumber,
this is the most ethereal place to be,
to be pushed off that inner ledge of 
knowing and landing fully at unknowing,
sensing a profound feeling of belonging
in this place of the wandering spirit.



Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®️ 

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Filed under carefree, dreams, Free Verse, life, poem, quote