Tag Archives: Free Verse

June 1, 2021 · 12:27 pm

The Joy Of The Mellow – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse De is hosting the Quadrille (44 words) with an invitation to use the word or its forms – Curiosity.

dVerse Poets – Quadrille – Curiosity

Photo by Monstera from Pexels

“Contentment is the greatest form of wealth.” Acharya Nagarjuna 

The Joy Of The Mellow

I pass no judgement,
(and yet, of course, I do)
details are never important,
though to be curious is never
to be shamed, rather, celebrated,
as points of departure from the
sameness of repetitions,
as for grief, while aware, I'm
incuriously embracing the mellow.

Copyright 2021 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

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May 31, 2021 · 3:46 pm

You Still Set Sail – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo by Md Towhidul Islam from Pexels

“The sea drives truth into a man like salt.” Hilaire Belloc

You Still Set Sail

The ocean always looks so placid until 
you notice that the boat is small, then 
everything takes on its own dimension, 
a scale of worry never thought before, 
merely armchair dreamed in fading light,
of disasters unforetold, king waves, reefs,
storms and all of that, even so, you still
set sail and go.

Copyright 2021 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

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May 29, 2021 · 1:56 pm

When Have We? – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo by Rachel Claire from Pexels

“Solitude is a fount of healing ….” Carl Jung

When Have We?

How does one receive silence in its absence,
when we have forgotten what it is like 
to fold into our deepest self and 
touch something that opens us to 
everything there is and, without holding, 
hold the cosmos, our heart of hearts,
overcome with feeling to the point of not
speaking words of inadequate meaning 
that fall like fruit premature, pretty,
but o so sour to the ear who knows.
When have we been so possessed of that 
silence beyond silence?

Copyright 2021 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights reserved ®

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May 28, 2021 · 12:22 pm

Autumn’s Decision – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Lisa is hosting Open Link Night where we post our own choice of poem.

dVerse Poets – Open Link Night

Photo: Farrel Grove, Paull’s Valley (Beelu National Park).

“And all the lives we lived and all the lives to be are full of trees and changing leaves …” Virginia Woolf 

Autumn's Decision

The storm passed quickly,
failing to transition autumn to winter 
any faster than autumn was willing to
allow, for autumn is possessed of her
own determined time to relinquish
her hold on nature, and certainly not 
at winter's behest; soon the air floated 
between two moods, charged with 
possibilities unknown, while the birds 
sang their thoughts and the trees 
pondered the gentle breeze.

Copyright 2021 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

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May 27, 2021 · 2:34 pm

Timeless Rapture – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

VJs Weekly Challenge – Trees

Photo: Harris campsite near Collie, a stand of Jarrah trees.

“Friendship is a sheltering tree.” Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Timeless Rapture

Never was there a cathedral cappella
holding such divine resonance,
touching the earth beneath my feet, 
as one tenderly touches another's skin, 
with loving strokes that meld a rhythm, 
uncounted, and eagerly invited as each 
next breath sustains sublime surrender 
to the timeless rapture of forest song, 
offering us connection, bathing us with life.

Copyright 2021 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

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May 26, 2021 · 2:46 pm

Have We? – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: freepik.com

“You are at once both the quiet and the confusion of my heart.” Franz Kafka

Have We?

Some things come to me at odd moments,
tying a shoelace or washing a cup or, in
the moment of the perhaps, waiting for
something, anything, in the length of a
soft, slow day, that might offer meaning,
depending on the question of course,
like love, for example, that we don't really 
know what it is even when we have supped 
from its chalice, have we consumed love
or, has love consumed us?

Copyright 2021 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

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May 24, 2021 · 3:19 pm

Listen To The Bush – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: Beelu National Park: a winding trail through quiet bushland.

“I can enjoy society in a room; but out of doors, Nature is company enough for me.” William Hazlitt

Listen To The Bush

It winds,
unlike a clock,
an earthly tidal in and around 
in a contemplative weave of
quietude, where we un-know 
the past and release the future 
of fear and anxiety, embracing 
an apocalyptic of warning with
understanding that comes only
from deep listening with reciprocal 
hearing that leads to action in the
most simple ways as only friends
are wont to do.

Copyright 2021 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

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May 23, 2021 · 1:29 pm

Brighter, Lighter – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo by suju-photo at pixabay.com

“Every flower is a soul blossoming in nature.” Gerard de Nerval

Brighter, Lighter

Today winter's beautiful melancholia
peeped in autumn's sepia window
it was the solitary white rose who
captured my heart in the maelstrom of
rain and buffeting wind, open to the
world she shone such joy, and I 
shared her dewey tears and smiled,
and suddenly the world was brighter,
lighter, aflame with something beyond 
words, a passion singed and burning.

Copyright 2021 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All rights Reserved ®

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May 22, 2021 · 2:26 pm

Soul Time – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: Hardy Inlet, Augusta – at Flat Rock.

“Creativity is piercing the mundane to find the marvellous.” Bill Moyers

Soul Time

The normal way of things,
steeped in long learned pathologies
that blind us to any possibility of
spark, melts away in the soul time
of sitting in tall grass, or by river's
edge, as we once again dive deep
into the fundament of wonder and
joy, and just sit in awe of the mystery
of life erupting all around us without
one jot of help from anyone.

Copyright 2021 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

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May 21, 2021 · 2:34 pm

Once – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: Dead tree in a paddock at Frankland.

“Ageing is not ‘lost youth’ but a new stage of opportunity and strength.” Betty Friedan

Once

Once I ran tall with the juice of life
flowing wildly through my veins,
and no wind could assail my boughs,
until came the day when my limbs
stiffened and my green cloak fell
away, that my brittle bones did crack
and sheer to the earth from whence 
I came, now home to all manner of 
living things previously unknown in
my skin, now friends, who bring a
new dignity to my otherwise sad
collapse.

Copyright 2021 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

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