Of All The Shoulds – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Lillian is hosting Poetics with an invitation to choose one of five artworks by Thorvald Hellesen.

dVerse Poets – Poetics – An Artist Gets His Due

“Portrait of Halvor John Schou” 1911, by Thorvald Helessen.

“From the point of view of the meditative traditions the entire society is suffering from attention deficit hyperactivity disorder.” Jon Kabat-Zinn

Of All The Shoulds

I’m not often still,

to sit quietly is to gather a storm,

unrelenting thoughts that swirl,

competing for my mind,

if I sit here too long I shall lose the

thread of it all to atrophy;

why am I here,

the ledger is incomplete

ships are unloading,

stock must be ordered ,

and yet here I am,

sighing,

wasting time,

I might even come to love it.

Copyright 2023 ©️Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®️

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Filed under Free Verse, life, poem, quote

My Father’s Hands – Haibun by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Frank is hosting the Haibun with an invitation to write about memory.

dVerse Poets – Haibun – Memory

Image by StockSnap from Pixabay

“My father took my hand and said, ‘Let’s go.'” Stephen Joseph Mitskavich

My Father’s Hands

My father’s hands are always with me. they were sometimes dark and sinister when riled, indifferent when preoccupied, and tender in my best memory. His hands were strong, at times too strong, a miner’s hands all dented and calloused, a boxer’s hands like steel, a gardeners hands covered in dirt. His hands were too big for fine work, instead he dug the yard, a quarter acre, all fruit and veg. He once lifted the back end of his ford while I changed the flat, I couldn’t argue with that.

My fondest memory lingers, a holiday at the seaside, a bucket and spade and sand castles. Walking in the water, walking home, my bucket in one hand, my other in his hand, the sun at our backs, adventure ahead. No matter the times of fear which came later, then he made the world right, the waves and paths, the people, all was well, we marched together and took the world. I can still feel those hands.

My father’s big hands

sometimes tender, mostly work

he was winter and sun.

Copyright 2023 ©️Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®️

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Filed under awareness, beach, Haibun, Haiku, life, memory, poem, quote

A Carving – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo by José Ignacio Pompé on Unsplash

“The use of the right word, the exact word, is the difference between a pencil with a sharp point and a thick crayon.” Peter Marshall

A Carving

A carving,

flesh encrusted with memory

situated in its own jus,

now ready for dividing,

honing the knife,

for slender slicing,

no ragged thrust and pull here,

straight to the point,

but with great care,

sharpening,

sharpening,

preparing the angle,

watching the space,

steadying the fork,

laying the blade to thick skin,

ever placing my words,

carefully,

sharply.

Copyright 2023 ©️Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®️ 

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Even The Sky – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: The remains of the old Pergandes farmhouse circa 1913, Shire of Bencubbin, Western Australia.

“Instead of “Let it go,” we should probably say “Let it be.” John Kabat-Zinn

Even The Sky

I return,

but nothing is

as I imperfectly remember it,

the places I used to frequent

aren’t the same sepia tint,

even the sky refuses to be a memory,

the flowers no longer speak

as they once did,

my mood is on the loose

looking for a feeling,

at once muted, at once excited,

trying not to locate a grief

as I attempt, just for a moment,

to rekindle yesterday.

Copyright 2023 ©️Paul Vincent Cannon

All Rights Reserved ®️

9 Comments

Filed under awareness, Free Verse, history, life, poem, quote

Winter’s Cool – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Image by StockSnap from Pixabay

“In seed time learn, in harvest teach, in winter enjoy.” William Blake

Winter’s Cool

My child’s love was spring and summer,

even early autumn here is summer,

those languid days of bathers, sand and

carefully manicured lawns,

no responsibilities

no blankets required,

sitting out in the warm of every night.

Things change, of course they do,

and lately I’ve come to appreciate winter,

after a long truce

now an embrace of all that is cool,

besides, there’s no shame in

blankets or coats,

still, summer is my first love,

but winter is my mistress.

Copyright 2023 ©️Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®️

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Filed under awareness, Free Verse, life, poem, quote, seasons

Living Now – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Image by Dariusz Sankowski from Pixabay

“Every day is a journey, and the journey itself is home.” Matsuo Basho

Living Now

When the journey ends

what will be your question?

did you fight every battle,

scour every mountain,

struggle every track,

suppress every complaint

that dwelt in your mind?

or, did you notice that not

every trail was a wrong turn,

that some wrongs were rights?

Have you noticed that the

journey is a series of deviations

the sum of which is our lives,

it isn’t the getting there,

because we never do,

it is living in the now is

the journey of worth.

Copyright 2023 ©️Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®️

19 Comments

Filed under awareness, Free Verse, future, life, poem, quote, Uncategorized

Don’t Tell Me – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: designwell365.com

“The greatest obstacle to discovery is not ignorance – it is the illusion of knowledge.” Daniel J. Boorstin

Don’t Tell Me

Don’t tell me,

invite me,

let it be an experience,

a discovery,

rather than

some credal conclusion

all laid out hollow,

I don’t want to know,

I want to feel, to be free

to taste and receive;

let nothing be ordained,

advanced,

banish hindsight,

let us keep this moment

without comment.

Copyright 2023 ©️Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®️

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No Amount – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: Pelicans waiting for the fishermen to start scaling fish. Hardy Inlet – Blackwood River, Augusta.

“The mother pelican wounded herself, striking her breast withe the beak to feed her young with her blood to prevent starvation.” William Saunders

Note: in another version the young attack the mother who kills them, afterwards piercing herself and spilling her blood over them in order to revive them.

No Amount

Such a dangerous time to be

voting for pelicans

we the children of the revolution,

tired and disillusioned ,

striking back,

an apocryphal three times

only to be stabbed, killed

by the so called trusted ones,

guardians of our morality

which they keep in a box someplace

and no amount of mothers blood will

revive the dead ones now.

Copyright 2023 ©️Paul Vincent Cannon

All Rights Reserved ®️

17 Comments

Filed under awareness, Free Verse, justice, life, poem, politics, quote

When I look – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Merril is hosting the Quadrille (44 words) with an invitation to write about the Mirror or any form of the word.

dVerse Poets – Quadrille – Mirror, Mirror on the Wall

Photo by Laurenz Kleinheider on Unsplash

“I love mirrors. They let one pass through the surface of things.” Claude Chabrol

When I Look

A mirror is just a mirror, right?
you can't see through it,
it's not a window,
or is it?
When I look at myself,
below the skin
to my real self,
past the grime and scratches,
the blind,
that is soul window.


Copyright 2023 ©️Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®️

21 Comments

Filed under awareness, Free Verse, identity, life, poem, Quadrille, quote

Poem For Ilhan Sami Comak – a poet imprisoned – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse I am hosting Poetics for Tuesday May 16 (EST) with an invitation to write a poem that speaks for those poets who are imprisoned or harassed for their writing.

You can link here to dVerse to read more details and resource and the poems submitted.

Photo: peaceinkurdistancampaign.com The Kurdish poet Ilhan Sami Comak imprisoned in Turkey for 27 years on false charges. The European Court of Human rights has ruled that his conviction is unlawful.

Note: This is a revised version of an earlier poem of the same title.

“Poetry is not an expression of the party line.” Allen Ginsberg



Poem For Ilhan Sami Comak

Once there were two birds,
but isn't that always the case?
One came and sat at my window,
the other perched in a cage,
and though the one left the 
window for the trees,
it sang its freedom in 
seeking my food,
while the caged one 
had no such concern, 
and gave itself instead 
to singing its freedom 
to the world.


Copyright 2021 ©️Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®️



Some further Reading

https://ilhancomak.wordpress.com/

New call for the release of Kurdish poet İlhan Sami Çomak jailed in Turkey for 26 years
https://www.facebook.com/peninternational

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