Tag Archives: Free Verse

Pond Of Dreams – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Sanaa is hosting Open Link Night where we are invited to post a poem of our own choosing.

dVerse Poets – Open LInk Night

Photo: http://www.shutterstock.com

“Moonlight incites dark passions ….” Rampo Edogawa

Pond Of Dreams

I'm certain as not that my dreams lit
the light of my centre as moon floated 
gently through the window of invitation,
gently rustling my playful sheets of sigh,
lighting a fire behind my lids of desire,
with reciprocating motions of heart as
rhythms of stroked flesh hovering at 
the edge of desire assuming a tidal 
wave in a pond of dreams.

©Paul Vincent Cannon


Filed under dreams, erotic, Free Verse, love, moon, passion, poem, quote

Orange Fish – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Orange Fish

A school of orange fish swam
so gently through my breakfast,
spreading out across the crusty sea,
cresting amber waves and buttery coves
under the shadow of Damocles sword
poised to slice the moment in two,
and be caught in the net of mine.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

“I got the blues thinking of the future, so I left off and made some marmalade.” D.H. Lawrence

Photo: media.istockphoto.com


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

For What? – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Sarah is hosting Poetics with an invitation to share a poem that has called to us, affected us in some way, positively or otherwise, and to write a poem in response. dVerse Poets – Poetics – A Conversation

Photo: Ben Kerckx, pixabay.com

I have chosen Wilfred Owen’s poem ‘Anthem For Doomed Youth’ and riffed on that a little. I despise war and I see it as a failure of humanity to sit down together. Wilfred Owen fought in the British army in WW1 and died at the age of 25 in 1918 one week before war’s end. For a detailed biography see The Wilfred Owen Association

Anthem For Doomed Youth     by Wilfred Owen

What passing-bells for these who die as cattle?
- only monstrous anger of the guns.
Only the stuttering rifles' rapid rattle
Can patter out their hasty orisons.
No mockeries now for them; no prayers nor bells;
Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs, -
The shrill, demented choirs of wailing shells;
And bugles calling for them from sad shires.

What candles may be held to speed them all?
Not in the hands of boys, but in their eyes
Shall shine the holy glimmers of goodbyes.
The pallor of girls' brows shall be their pall;
Their flowers the tenderness of patient minds,
And each slow dusk a drawing-down of blinds.

“Men make war to get attention. All killing is an expression of self-hate.” Alice Walker

For What?

Passion flowered blue in the fields of sheets
set for their love of each other and,
soon enough, their fruit was ripe for picking,
the suckling ripped from breast to trench,
unprotected by the hollow words of those
faceless ones who send anyone but themselves,
valorised by suited cowards and coercive saints,
left alone in mud, and cold, diseased;
grief flowered red in the fields of France,
as life bled out for the shame of piety
voiced in cathedrals of death.

©Paul Vincent Cannon


Filed under death, Free Verse, grief, history, life, poem, quote, war

Opening – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Image: Michael Gaida, pixabay.com

“I like the unreality of your mind; the whole thing is very splendid and voluptuous and absurd.” Virginia Woolf


Opening the window wide
reality flew in like an albatross,
all flustered and no direction,
shattering all my pieces,
pretending to be something while
spectacularly embarrassing itself
with saturated deathly excuses
emptying from its smirking life,
and so completely removed,
"who's the dissociative now?"
I asked, as I closed the door on
my way out to creative futures.

©Paul Vincent Cannon


Filed under carefree, creativity, Free Verse, future, life, passion, poem, quote

That feeling – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: Geralt – Nerve cells – pixabay.com

“Take every breath as an event.” Arzum Uzun

That Feeling

Blustery wind rolled off the ocean
into my skin with whispers of cool
hauntingly possessing me to the full,
and I carried it all day wrapped up as
electric juice sluicing through my
pulsing veins in rhythms of blue,
while the sky shone paisley and I
was iridescently alive to everything.

©Paul Vincent Cannon


Filed under awareness, carefree, Free Verse, life, poem, quote, Synesthesia

Those Who Are Awake -a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: soulvibe.com

“You were born with wings, why prefer to crawl through life?” Rumi

Those Who Are Awake

Awareness comes to those who are awake,
to those who refuse to be imprisoned to
beliefs and the rightness of certain actions,
and to those who have befriended death.

To those who refuse to be imprisoned to,
by the expectations of popular diatribes,
to those who have befriended death
and who stare down life's insoluble foibles.

By the expectations of popular diatribes
one could live one's inner darkness,
and who stare down life's insoluble foibles,
are those who are uncertain winners.

One could live one's inner darkness,
beliefs and the rightness of certain actions
are those who are uncertain winners,
awareness comes to those who are awake.

©Paul Vincent Cannon


Filed under awareness, Free Verse, life, Pantoum, poem, quote, Spirituality

Need Never Be Answered – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: Taken at Tnorala Nature Reserve near Gosses Bluff, Namatjira Drive, NT.

“Only from the heart can you touch the sky.” Rumi

Need Never Be Answered 

Did you nourish the moment in you,
have you understood the stir of the
east wind and caress of the indifferent 
ocean or touched the inestimable sky,
even when it darkens and the secret 
ceremonies draw us to sacred 
connection, keeping alive the questions
that live under our skin and need never
be answered, or we would silence our
deep quest and miss all that is present,
all that is wise, in the whispers of trees.

©Paul Vincent Cannon


Filed under bush walking, camping, Country, Free Verse, life, poem, quote, Whistleblowing

Unquenchable – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: vividlife.me

“There are far, far better things ahead than any we leave behind.” C.S. Lewis


this song on my lips,
the jive in my hips,
a line of thought,
an idea, at once authentic,
the very vision of reality,
a fork in the trail,
opening a way through the
deliberate hiddenness of
our deepest self, who waits
for this moment to sing
and dance the life trail
from the voice of my heart.

©Paul Vincent Cannon


Filed under bush walking, Free Verse, life, poem, quote

Rituals – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: shutterstock.com

“…. by participating in a ritual, participating in the myth, you are being, as it were, put in accord with that wisdom, which is the wisdom inherent within you anyhow. Your consciousness is being re-minded of the wisdom of your own life. I think ritual is terribly important.” Joseph Campbell


The sacred rituals of my day
arise with some herbal tea and 
a greeting of some feathered friends
while garden wandering to rejoice in
yesterdays hard, loving work,
a meal to prepare with tender
zen-like intention with each move,
then stilling down at days end,
ancient viviers, wine in hand,
recounting the day's treasures,
storing them in each other to
savour and sift at leisure, these 
are the sacred rituals of my day.

©Paul Vincent Cannon


Filed under Free Verse, life, mindfulness, poem, quote, Spirituality

To No Avail – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: istockphoto.com Pouring out a libation.

“The original definition of sacrifice moves more inwardly. It means to give up what no longer works.” Mark Nepo

To No Avail

With every possible sacrifice
I made supplication at your door,
as if to all the gods and spirits
who might intervene should be
summoned for not a little redemption
at the drop of a hat thrown to the 
wind as to caution, a libation 
poured out for everything I had
pursued down lanes and alleys
to no avail.

©Paul Vincent Cannon


Filed under Free Verse, life, love, poem, quote