Of Vulnerability – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

5 Lines – Afraid

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Photo: independent.ie

 

“Huxley feared that what we desire will ruin us.”  Neil Postman

 

Of Vulnerability

Not crawling or slithers, lead or blade,
neither fist nor foe really matter
in the grandest of schemes,
it is more the inner, the self, the real,
of vulnerability we are afraid.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

Paul, pvcann.com

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A way Home – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

dVerse Poets – Open Link Night

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Image: thephoblographer.com

 

“Ghosts don’t haunt us. That’s not how it works. They’re present among us because we won’t let go of them.”  Sue Grafton

 

A Way Home

The room was so still so late,
nothing and no one
a stirring not,
though midst my typing
a shadow passing
persisting time and again
through the snores of the house,
a presence behind me
not malevolent at all,
simply lost and locked,
needing to find a way home,
a letting go,
a moving on,
saying farewell to what was
and embracing the door
of something else,
for my part
I offered the way
in words of love,
the best map there could be.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

Paul, pvcann.com

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Meta Carbo – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

dVerse Poets – Poetics – Let’s Get Elemental

Sarah at dVerse has invited us to write about the elements of the periodic table in whatever creative ways we choose. This is my second go, and this time I’ve chosen Carbon which, being an allotrope, gives us a variety of things, diamonds, coal 😦 , graphite, graphenes, and so on. It is for all occasions, it is a necessary part of forming oxygen, but it is also a major environmental problem too.

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Photo: istock.com

 

“The greatest threat to our planet is the belief that someone else will save it”  Robert Swan

 

Meta Carbo

Shining dangle trinket
an all occasion party type,
now retiring like quiet
Albrecht in a pencil thin garret,
sometimes darkly dark, though
more recently sneaky congestion
leaking all around me,
beautiful choking imbalance,
really hot stuff
searing my lungs,
everything,
no more the exchange
nothing can breathe,
leaving now,
disappearing through
a hole in the sky,
until, of course,
I change my carbon life.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

Paul, pvcann.com

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Filed under chemicals, Economics, environment, Free Verse, life, nature, poem, politics, quote, Science

You’re Only Half In – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

dVerse Poets – Poetics – Let’s Get Elemental

Sarah at dVerse has invited us to write a poem working with an aspect of the elements of the periodic table in any manner we choose. My choice is Germanium (GE 32) a semiconductor, brittle, and needs another substance to enable it to function fully. incidentally, the word germane is related.

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Photo: sciencestruck.com Placing a semiconductor.

“The next major explosion is going to be when genetics and computers come together. I’m talking about an organic computer – about biological substances that can function like a semiconductor.”  Alvin Toffler

 

You’re Only Half In

I want to hold you in my arms
but you’re only half in,
and when I look back
that’s always been so,
You’re so brittle
pretending to be elastic,
and what a stretch that would be,
so germane, apropos a semi,
always needing something,
someone else to prop you,
to enable your true function,
you cannot stand alone
but you’re not fully in.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

Paul, pvcann.com

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Contemplative Action – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

VJs Weekly Challenge – Action

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Photo: pixabay.com

“A person sees in the world what they carry in their heart.”  (adapted) Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe

Contemplative Action

The thought before the step,
seeing with the heart
while resting the mind,
standing, walking, sitting
with feelings that arise,
resisting pathologies,
those old avenues so familiar
that flow like winter rivers,
to burst that bubble and
dispel that echo,
to know the tender deep
intangible organic love
that awaits a birthing
as gift to the world,
in step.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

Paul, pvcann.com.

16 Comments

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Do They See The Sky Like I Do? – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

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Photo: pixabay.com

 

“Peace, that was the other name for home.”  Kathleen Norris

 

Do They See The Sky Like I Do?

I passed the house at number sixteen,
it was still
as it usually is,
no one stirring,
everything in its place,
unlike the mess that is mine,
and I got to wondering,
who are they,
do they see the sky like I do?

©Paul Vincent Cannon

Paul, pvcann.com

22 Comments

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No Solution – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

RDP Sunday – Realm

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Photo: cnn.com

 

“A shocking crime was committed on the unscrupulous initiative of few individuals, with the blessing of more, and amid the passive acquiescence of all.”  Tacitus

No Solution

The husk of man,
for it is a man rather than a woman,
is forever drained and dry,
burnt in the blinking of an eye
across the fields of loss and grief,
where the butcher’s hand is never stayed,
and the slice is always close to the bone
with the relentless search for
the cure of fear, which, as always
readily falls to cycles of war,
now favoured by the killing of a man
who was food as friend,
and sent to to the heavenly realm
of the great cloud of witnesses
who pray over our esteemed
and utter madness for blood to be
wasted on the unforgiving rocks of dogma.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

Paul, pvcann.com

 

 

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Is Nothing Learned? – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

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Photo: alleghenycampus.com: human chess.

 

“Chess can be described as the movement of pieces eating one another.”   Marcel Duchamp

 

Is Nothing Learned?

Knight takes bishop,
queen takes knight,
pawn takes pawn and
blocks the rook,
on and on
and so it goes,
tit for tat
soon everything falls,
is nothing learned,
is no one heard?
It’s not the winning
or a surrender,
surely,
and I hope,
it is letting all things be.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

Paul, pvcann.com

 

 

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Everyday – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

RDP Friday – Breathe

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Photo: livestrong.com

 

“Something in us is telling us we’re moving too fast, at a pace dictated by machines rather than anything human, and that unless we take conscious measures, we’ll permanently be out of breath.”  Pico Iyer

Everyday

Everyday at waking hoping,
longing for an
uprising of integrity,
a coup of love,
a kindness rebellion,
a riot of charity,
to overwhelm my senses,
and wash me with such gratitude,
that even now
I might breathe again
as I once did
long ago.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

Paul, pvcann.com.

25 Comments

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The Place Is On Fire – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

RDP Thursday – Puce

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Photo: George Mill, Mallacoota.

Major fires burn across four states, two states have declared a state of emergency, the main fire in Western Australia is contained, but the east-west national road link is closed.

 

“The Monster is on its way to us ….”  Liv Casben, Bateman’s Bay.

The Place Is On Fire

The warnings have been made,
get out now before its too late,
and you sit waiting,
weighing the moment,
counting the imminent loss
as the glow gets closer
and azure turns to puce,
smoke fills your lungs,
while it sounds as if you’re
standing near roaring surf,
as the monster draws near,
and soon enough whole
twigs and sticks ablaze
float past on thick
thermal waves and
sparks catch in dry grass,
the place is on fire,
down to the water we go.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

Paul, pvcann.com

50 Comments

Filed under Country, environment, Forest, Free Verse, nature, poem, quote