Category Archives: relationship

I Seek All – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: Creative Vix on pexels.com

“Culture is more often a source of conflict than of synergy.” Geert Hofstede

I Seek All

Some of us sit uneasily with tribes
while ever searching for one,
dreaming of taking our place,
belonging to a picture of life,
striving to fit the wrong shape,
feeling dejected when all efforts
fail to improve visibility or whatever
expectations we hold,
I no longer seek tribes,
those fleeting vessels of angst,
I seek all sentient beings in
encounter.


Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

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Is It Strange? – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: found on pinterest.com

“Nothing protects the heart like patience.” Rob Hill Sr

Is It Strange?

Is it strange that he keeps his heart in a jar,
down by the sea, just out of reach of the tide,
with the lid screwed on very water-tight,
never to be awash on the shore of emotion.

Down by the sea, just out of reach of the tide,
he baited the hook of his own amour torment,
never to be awash on the shore of emotion,
yet always afraid of the waves rolling in.

He baited the hook of his own amour torment,
conscious of the disappearing sands,
yet always afraid of the waves rolling in,
uncertain of the stars coming down close.

Conscious of the disappearing sands,
with the lid screwed on very water-tight,
uncertain of the stars coming down close,
is it strange that he keeps his heart in a jar?


Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

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Why Would I? – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Lillian is hosting Poetics with an invitation to take one of eight proverbs and adages as inspiration for a poem.

dVerse Poets – Poetics – A Penny For Your Thoughts

The adage I chose is “An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure.” Poor Richard’s Almanac, Benjamin Franklin.

Photo: found at intimacyinmarriage.com

“But she felt she had to see him or she would die.” Iris Murdoch (The Nice And The Good)

Why Would I?

Have you never been love sick?
To feel all that delicious internal,
beautiful turmoil, an inner, perpetual
tsunami washing up and rolling away
in a mixture of breathless joy and 
airless despair.

Sometimes the precipice of doubt
becomes the best question, the 
next being, how do I know this, but
then I don't, or do I? The torment is
velvet, a sigh, a hallelujah chorus.
Why would I avoid it , why would I 
seek a cure, this malady is my melody,
it is my score.


Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

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Journey To Celebration – Haibun by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Lisa is hosting the Haibun with an invitation to write about Celebration.

dVerse Poets – Haibun – Celebration

Photo by Nicole Michalou from Pexels

“And so this is Christmas and what have you done?” John Lennon


Journey To Celebration

La Nina grips our western coast, it's hotter than hell, 45c (113f) up in the city, hot enough to boil my blood. Surely everyone will come to us on the southern coast, no trekking for us this year we're staying bunkered in the coolness.

Soon the days are passing fast and it seems that all are on their way and the journey to celebration has begun. Much sweeping, cooking, decorating, though no bulwark against the christmastide that annually washes over us. And as time inevitably shortens to its point, we hear the news that they're only an hour away. All that must be done is done though imperfectly arranged.

Our apprehensive energy is released at every hug and hello, the food is such a synchromesh of cheer, it garners every word and smile. We ride the lows of politics and the controversies of the family lines while lifting high on living well, of dreams, of visions, of aspirations, our thoughts are projected well.

All too soon we've chewed the fat, and over hours and days all must depart, a small grief occupies our hearts. It seemed a long road to this moment, now it has come and passed, all are sated and spent. The storm we talked up has settled now, and in the quiet of the house we rest in our happy glow.

sun heats the earth
summer celebrations run
a small grief fills hearts


Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

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But In Just The Right Light – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

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

dVerse Poets – Quadrille – Tinsel

Photo: wedding.boutiquecloset.com

“Tinsel in February, tinsel in August. there are things in a man besides his reason.” Wallace Stevens

But In Just The Right Light

Some people speak only self-referentially 
without a thought for others ,
their judgements of kitsch, or gaudy, or 
gauche can wound, but in just the right
light at just the right time, tinsel can light
the heart; I like mine with a tinge of blue.


Copyright 2021 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

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The Bold Gaze Of Silence – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: pexels.com – Adrienn

“The deepest moments of intimacy occur when you’re not talking.” Patricia Love

The Bold Gaze Of Silence

Impassive,
your lips refrain in this 
slender moment of opening,
but your eyes belie the silence
that hangs between us as they 
speak quietly and without 
reservation of love's invitation,
where words might shake and
not be trusted, the bold gaze of
silence pulls strongly to a tender 
embrace.


Copyright 2021 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

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The Aunt – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo by Toni Ferreira from Pexels

“Well-behaved women seldom make history.” Laurel Thatcher Ulrich

The Aunt

She was cool when I was nine,
all cigarettes and wine, much to
my mother's chagrin, and worse,
she was accused of trying to be
Jacki O, scandalising my puritan 
mother with tales of affairs and 
raw lust that were fun to eavesdrop 
even if they weren't completely true,
but as they say, where there's smoke 
there's fire; when I was twelve she 
was all bikini and laughter, the best of 
hosts, the life of the party, unlike the 
mausoleum gathered around her;
when I was fifteen she liked to tease,
all topless and conversed excitement,
and the days drifted as did time,
until one day, a note said she'd gone,
the eulogy said lover of life and I
guess she gave me some.



Copyright 2021 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

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Woven Connection – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: pixabay.com



“Love is an irresistible desire to be irresistibly desired.” Robert Frost

Woven Connection

Sweetness and terror push against each other
in warm waves of delicious intense confusion 
that wave my heart about in giddying flourishes,
catapulting me senseless in unexpected feelings,
leaving me so light I began to float away from you,
until you reached out and wove our fingers together
in a constancy of connection that holds me still.


Copyright 2021 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

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Only Ever – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: sujuphoto pixabay.com

“All real living is meeting.” Martin Buber

Only Ever

What did you notice around you today,
and what stirred within you as you noticed?
Perhaps a deficit occurred, knowing what
was missed between the noticing not 
noticing, but isn't that just part of it all, 
part of the awareness of the whole, of self,
the knowingness of the way we are, the 
way life is, just so, knowing that the 
knowing is incomplete is surely the good
part, we can never know until we know
through other, another, and not just 
ourselves, we are only ever ourselves
in the presence of other, but then, I'm 
sure you noticed that long ago.


Copyright 2021 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

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Who Is This? – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: i.huffpost.com

“There are a hundred roads through the world that are easier than loving. But who wants easier?” Mary Oliver

Who Is this?

Who is this who speaks to you of love,
when all is fractured and fragmented 
and love itself has become so vulnerable
to the predation of romantic blasphemy.

When all is fractured and fragmented
we are such a mixture of joy and grief,
to the predation of romantic blasphemy,
will love beyond shame be possible.

We are such a mixture of joy and grief,
expressed in a language that moves us,
will love beyond shame be possible,
is meaning completely lost in this world.

Expressed in a language that moves us,
and love itself has become so vulnerable,
is meaning completely lost in this world,
who is this who speaks to you of love?

©Paul Vincent Cannon

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