Tag Archives: dVerse Poets

September 15, 2020 · 5:55 am

Amantes del la Luna – prose by Paul Vincent Cannon

Host Merril at dVerse has invited us to consider a line from a Mary Oliver poem for a prose piece (144 words). dVerse Poets – Prosery – Moonbeams and Moon Dreams

I have been writing about Moon for some time so this landed in a week of moon thoughts.

The line is: “In their dreams they sleep with the moon.” from Mary Oliver ‘Death at Wind River’

Image: abstract.desktopnexus.com

“Go slowly, my lovely moon, go slowly.” Khaled Hosseini

Amantes de la Luna (Lovers of the Moon)

Moon disrobed the darkness, her eyes lighting everyone who ventured to the edge of night. She was an illumine of all that is love in that sacred moment as she touched the tide of rising feeling by the shore of desire that ached with her beauty. The young men are too distracted to notice, they foolishly chase after lesser stars, mere reflections of momentary excitement lost in the ripples of time. But Moon doesn’t mind, the tides come and go in a gentle rhythm, and they will soon enough take notice of her. Besides, she has plenty of lovers. The older men adore her and sigh at her memory, holding her close in their hearts. Through wax and wane they remember the tender intimacies of her soft glow and her warm grace, and in their dreams they sleep with Moon as once they did.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

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September 8, 2020 · 1:02 pm

At The Edge – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Kim at dVerse has invited us to write a quadrille (44 words) including the word eavesdropping. dVerse Poets – Quadrille – What’s That Rustling In The Eaves?

Photo: pixabay.com

“Ecstasy is the accurate term for the intensity of consciousness that occurs in the creative act.” Rollo May

At The Edge

Eve was gently dropping words
into the soft air across the water,
soothing ripples,
captivating lillies,
when I took her hand
she smiled her eyes
and shivered her skin
in ripples of whisper
that my heart was 
eavesdropping at the
edge of her ecstasy.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

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September 4, 2020 · 3:49 pm

Softly – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Grace is hosting Open Link Night – the night to post a poem of your own choosing. dVerse Poets – Open Link Night

Photo: pixabay.com

“The Lotus comes from the murkiest water but grows into the purest thing.” Nita Ambani

Softly

As the day passed to night
lotus sat in the shadows quietly,
till moon touched her softly,
stiring a warmth becoming fire,
she rose up electric with 
tingling flesh, and so quickly
her perfect flower opened
completely inviting,
unravelling his tired resistance.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

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August 21, 2020 · 3:08 pm

Shouting Underwater – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Linda at dVerse is hosting Open Link Night where ewe are invited to post a poem of choice. dVerse Poets – Open Link Night

Photo: http://www.stockunlimited.com

“Any government that places profit before people is pure evil.” Suzy Kassem 

Shouting Underwater

Those babble mouths,
always a crooked apologia for
crack cocaine capitalism's
endemic asset stripping
dealers who're always
powdering their own noses,
yet always the stench of decay
seeps through everywhere,
gaslighting the streets,
curbing panaceas
left, right and centre,
and I feel as if I'm
on fire and shouting
underwater.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

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August 18, 2020 · 3:32 pm

Those Days – prose by Paul Vincent Cannon

Merril at dVerse has invited us to write a piece of prose (144 words) and to include the line from Allison Adelle Hedge Coke’s ‘A Time’

dVerse Poets – Prosery

Image: pixabay.com

“That’s what hell must be like, small chat to the babbling of Lethe about the good old days when we wished we were dead.” Samuel Beckett.

Those Days

There’s a time and a place, but who knows when a sound, a taste, might become a portal to a golden era perfected in the mind as a pluperfect distortion approaching a kaleidoscopic experience of emotion and memory, a trickster dressed seductively in sentimental scant playing with my feelings. In those moments I feel as if I’m falling into a melliferous treacle of spreading activation that would hold me in some romanticised yesterday colonised by nostalgia and no sense of reality at all. Is this my measure of happiness, success, or progression? Is it trustworthy even in its signifiers, those signs and symbols truncated as truths embodied in codes only dreams hint at? But, when it is over, said and done, it was a time, and there was never enough of it, whatever it was. To recapture the feeling of moments is my adiction.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

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August 14, 2020 · 2:00 pm

Better Landscapes – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

dVerse Poets – Meeting the Bar: Critique and Craft – Stream Of Consciousness Writing.

Grace at dVerse has invited us to write a poem using the literary device – stream of consciousness writing.

Photo: out on the terraces of my garden.

“…. and it came harshly to me that this garden was the world and from the world there would be no hiding.” Kathleen Kent

Better Landscapes

So then, contrary Mary, just how
does your garden grow because if 
it doesn't then it can't and it mightn't
so it won't of all the snails and slaters
stacked against a positive outcome
yours is the garden of doomed delight
that folds into a waste of darkness
provoked by the mainstreet philosophers
of botanic fright and no amount of 
haute hort will save it or you for
that matter as the slugs of life
engulf you, ignoring the trivia of 
your self-summation, desiring 
far better landscapes of the heart.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

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August 11, 2020 · 7:30 am

To Bathe In – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

dVerse Poets – Quadrille – Garden

Victoria at dVerse has invited us to write a poem about any form of the word Garden.

Photo: The winter garden, soon to bloom.

“Gardens are a form of autobiography” Sydney Eddison

To Bathe In

The writing of our edenic idyll,
a lush and varied eclogue,
has been its own healing
journey to connection,
to something deeper that is
more than the satisfaction of
a garden of secrets and wonders,
more a place to bathe
in life-giving wholeness.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

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July 24, 2020 · 3:51 pm

Just Glad – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Mish is hosting Open Link Night at dVerse Poets

dVerse Poets – Open Link Night

Photo: pixabay.com

“Kai-ros: the perfect, delicate crucial moment, the fleeting rightness of time and place …..” 






Just Glad

How might I interpret the horizon
which once seemed so far away
but no longer sits in distant silence,
much closeer now to the urgency
of words stretched out in
nascent expressions of meaning
I had not anticipated and,
joyfully inviting a lyrical searching
that powerfully deepens,
even so, I cannot hold on to it,
I'm just glad I was here in this
place with this question,
not having to understand 
this moment.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

			

	
	

		
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		July 17, 2020 · 2:42 pm	


	
I Am Until – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon
	

		

Grace at dVerse has invited us to write considering the phrase ‘I am’ – first person narrative, for Meet The Bar. dVerse Poets – Meet The Bar










Photo by Gerald at pixabay.com ‘Insight’










“You are in integrity when the life you are living on the outside matches who you are on the inside.”  Alan Cohen










I Am Until

It is that
I am complicit until I am not,
I am a lover until I am not,
I am justice unti I am not,
I am compassion until I am not,
I am awareness until I am not,
I am shaped until I am not
by all that surrounds 
where my feet touch 
the ground and, equally,
I am not until I am.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

			

	
	

		
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		July 15, 2020 · 2:12 pm	


	
At Kaltukatjara – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon
	

		

dVerse celebrates eight years of poetics and co-founder Brian Miller and host Grace have invited a poem that paints or creates a picture that we can see, smell, feel or hear. dVerse Poets – Poetics










 





At Kaltukatjara

The crisp morning air
hung with bacon
long consumed,
so too the brew
with joyous banter
and reveries of starlight,
while I wandered 
softly on the land
seeking space for 
thoughts that could
not surface in the fray,
yet made no sense 
in the silence,
only the fallen mallee
nuts made any effort
to speak into my day.

©Paul Vincent Cannon






Note: Kaltukatjara known also as Docker River, Northern Territory. Wonderful to see the original indigenous names being used more and more these past years by government and traveller alike.

			

	
	

		
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