February 13, 2021 · 2:40 pm

The Dream Jewel – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: Mylene, pixabay.com

“Love will find a way through paths where wolves fear to prey.” Lord Byron.






The Dream Jewel

Where is the jewel I dreamt
in this sea of ordinary stones,
where shines the emerald, the 
ruby, on this dusty plain,
I searched everywhere and I
looked long and hard down
lanes and valleys, hoping for 
some seeker's sign to point me
on my way, until that day, a
perfect day, a glint shone 
through the melancholic dust,
the most precious jewel I'd 
ever seen, she held me in 
her beauty, a beauty deeper 
than the eye perceived.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

			

	
	

		
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		February 12, 2021 · 3:31 pm	


	
That Day – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon
	

		

At dVerse Grace is hosting Meeting the Bar with an invitation to write about a time and, or, a place.





dVerse Poets – Meeting the Bar – Setting





Photo: avonadvocate.com the result of the Meckering Earthquake, October 14, 1968.










“An earthquake is such fun when it is over.”  George Orwell










That Day

Thinking of that day,
past the cognitive dissonance 
created by voids of time since
my recollection of Hey Jude
and paisley, athletes down in
Mexico, the warmth of spring 
with a holiday sleepiness,
rattled by 6.5 that shuddered
its way into my body in a 
millisecond, before panic set in
and my mother's shriek to run
outside clear of the walls,
adrenaline better than caffeine,
fear driving hearts while news
poured in of little Meckering
pummelled to the ground,
the plaster of our ceiling
shedding dust and the 
windows crackling,
earth rumbling in waves,
shake, rattle and roll,
after-tremors wielding terror,
what can now be trusted but 
open space, in the spring of 68.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

			

	
	

		
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		February 11, 2021 · 2:20 pm	


	
More – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon
	

		

VJs Weekly Challenge – Urge










Photo: found on pinterest.com










“Some of the jam we thought was for tomorrow, we’ve already eaten.”  Tony Benn










More

So hot,
the toast is steaming,
melting the thick slices of butter
into savoury pools, wafting its 
salty aroma as I layer juicy, 
thick, blackberry jam in all its
decadent sweetness,
rolling round my tongue,
dripping down my chin,
tantalising my senses,
eliciting divine sighs,
O' my goodness, the
urge to have another.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

			

	
	

		
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		February 10, 2021 · 3:07 pm	


	
Something Ancient – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon
	

		

At dVerse Sarah is hosting Poetics with and invitation to write about Fungi.  





dVerse Poets – Poetics – Let’s Have Fun Guys










Photo: chinesemedicineliving.com










“Be not afraid of growing slowly, be afraid of standing still.”  Chinese proverb










Something Ancient

Something ancient of generations
speaks from hidden forest places
into my fractured, fragmented life,
of something more than physical,
an awakening expansion of 
abundant life, an elixir of healing,
reishi, the Ling Zhi, bearer of deep
wisdom for all who share its
patient ferment.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

			

	
	

		
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		February 9, 2021 · 1:34 pm	


	
Baring Her Soul – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon
	

		

At dVerse Merril is hosting Quadrille (44 words) with an invitation to write using some form of the word embrace.  dVerse Poets – Quadrille – Embrace










Image: found on pinterest.com via Bing










“It is a beautiful and delightful sight to behold the body of the moon.”  Galileo Galilei










Baring Her Soul

The revelled edge of night's memory
softened to a surreal stillness of
quiet beauty, the calm before the 
passion, the moment of adventurous
eyes seeking the other's horizon of
subtle knowing in delicate movement,
moon smiled, shed her shawl, baring
her soul for embrace.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

			

	
	

		
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		February 8, 2021 · 3:08 pm	


	
Those Moments – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon
	

		

Photo: Conquero, pixabay.com 










“Blame it or praise it, there is no denying the wild horse in us.”  Virginia Woolf










Those Moments

Those moments,
when thoughts flurry,
rushing in and through
like wild horses fast and loose
on the plain of choice all lathered
and snorting when all seems settled,
like floral table cloths set for dinner,
or open books by the window
waiting for translucent days like
almond blossom, perfect and
delicate, all soft and fine, now
overrun with tantalising thoughts 
to follow this way and that,
those moments, when life
offers rich turns of
unfathomable mystery.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

			

	
	

		
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		February 7, 2021 · 2:43 pm	


	
An Invitation – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon
	

		

Photo: thewowstyle.com





“Clothing means nothing until someone lives in them.”  Marc Jacobs










An Invitation 

Her modest hem was garrulous,
all shouty and and look at me glances
setting fire to water, while her demur
look was betrayed by the spice of her 
eyes that stirred tremors, while the
silence of her lips was undone by a
persuasive smile, an invitation to an 
awkward tango of discovery, a navigation 
of moments paper thin, it was then that I 
remembered to breathe.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

			

	
	

		
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		February 6, 2021 · 3:12 pm	


	
Hopeful Fire – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon
	

		

Image: istockphoto.com 










“Set your life on fire. Seek those who fan your flames.”  Rumi










Hopeful Fire

Passers by as books unread, their pages unturned,
unnoticed icons in microcosms of suburban worlds
drifting typecast in local dramas of someone else's,
while I'm running erratically full of hopeful fire.

Unnoticed icons in microcosms of suburban worlds,
that vertiginous challenge of self-making ex nihilo,
while I'm running erratically full of hopeful fire
past the the vendors of pleasures and values.

That vertiginous challenge of self-making ex nihilo,
tearing up my mundane existence playing out
past the vendors of pleasures and values
who pedal their own sad delusions of fantasy.

Tearing up my mundane existence playing out,
drifting typecast in local dramas of someone else's 
who pedal their own sad delusions of fantasy,
passers by as books unread, their pages unturned.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

			

	
	

		
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		February 5, 2021 · 3:37 pm	


	
My Quiet Treasury – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon
	

		

At dVerse Lillian is hosting Open Link Night.  dVerse Poets – OLN 










Photo: pixabay.com










“When you do things from your soul, you feel a river moving in you, a joy.”  Rumi










My Quiet Treasury

I sat inside my quiet treasury of peaceful self
amidst a field of reliquaries sculpted from dreams,
with the eyes of the hidden ones watching closely,
sentinels of the night in communities of acceptance.

Amidst a field of reliquaries sculpted from dreams,
along narrow stone paths of adventure unknown,
sentinels of the night in communities of acceptance
who silently speak in defence of all that is valued.

Along narrow stone paths of adventure unknown
I plumbed the forest's deep guilty pleasures
who silently speak in defence of all that is valued,
and offered as generous joy overflowing.

I plumbed the forest's deep guilty pleasures
with the eyes of the hidden ones watching closely,
and offered as generous joy overflowing,
I sat inside my quiet treasury of peaceful self.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

			

	
	

		
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		February 4, 2021 · 3:44 pm	


	
Reper-cussions – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon
	

		

VJs Weekly Challenge – Repercussions 










Photo: The dove who got into the house but sadly hit the window attempting a way out.










“Death is not the opposite of life but a part of it.”  Haruki Murakami










Reper-cussions

Soft percussion tears,
sombre funeral beat,
who will mourn her
choice of passage or
dare to judge the
repercussion that is 
her ending or, perhaps,
her beginning, this dove 
at peace, but it was I who 
left the door ajar and the
window closed.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

			

	
	

		
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