Category Archives: relationship

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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Filed under Haibun, Haiku, life, love, poem, prose, quote, relationship

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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Filed under Free Verse, love, passion, poem, quote, relationship, Sex

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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Imperfectly Perfect – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

VJs Weekly Challenge – Nesting

Photo: Yellow Throated Honeyeater with young. Found at animal.memozee.com

“Where thou art, that is home.” Emily Dickinson

Imperfectly Perfect

She takes the very strands of life and
weaves them carefully to a harmonic of 
held space for everyone who arises, or 
ventures here of a warm welcome to the 
heart of the journey, enfolded in the 
energy of her love lived in collaborative
purpose, that all may one day follow her
weave, imperfectly perfect, with just a 
hint of gold thread and where there are
no locks or chains.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

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She Walked Lightly – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse De is hosting poetics with an invitation to write laundry poems.

dVerse Poets – Poetics – Put Your Words On Spin Cycle

Photo: http://www.thespruce.com

“Abnormal reaction to an abnormal situation is normal behaviour.” Victor Frankl

She Walked Lightly

Slowly she emptied the white enamel 
reliquary of all that was his and, like a 
crow, she picked over the bones of his
cottoned life, stored memories lodged
deep in her body, the dissonance of
happiness and sadness washing over
her in one slow wave as the sun 
warmed and opened her to feelings
held tightly in her chest, now aired,
set free, at last she walked lightly 
back to the verandah for the first 
time since that day when everything 
closed in and nothing seemed normal.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

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Filed under Free Verse, grief, life, poem, quote, relationship

The Canvas – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Laura is hosting Poetics with an invitation to write in response to painting titles. Of the five title choices I chose the first: “A Painter Without A Brush” by Gerhard Richter (2019)

dVerse Poets – Poetics – The Poet As Painter

Photo: found at freepic.com

“Many painters are afraid of the blank canvas, but the blank canvas is afraid of the painter who dares and who has broken the spell of ‘you can’t’ once and for all.’ ” Vincent Van Gogh

The Canvas

The canvas stared at him long,
taunting him, daring him to move 
sans brush upon its surface,
he stared back smilingly happy,
slowly he undressed and rolled
up his shirt and soaked it in paint,
and frenzied it across the silent
canvas, all at once, fingers, arms,
legs, with every inch of body, he
kissed and caressed that canvas
with a language of colour rarely 
seen in any conversation or
heard on any palette of note.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

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