Tag Archives: Meeting the Bar

January 15, 2021 · 1:23 pm

The Next Dance – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Grace is hosting Meeting the Bar with an invitation to personification and imagery.

dVerse Poets – MTB – Personification and Imagery

Photo: sierraclub.typepad.com “The Right to Dry Movement”

“But what about those windy spring days? You know the drill, you fight the sheets onto the line. Then the wind catches them and makes them want to sail into the next country!” The Texas Homesteader

The Next Dance

Sick of line dancing, she wanted
to cut loose with a tango or a foxtrot,
even a rouge can-can would do it and,
once safely pegged, she gave herself to the 
sea breeze throwing her legs up, her head back,
tossing her skirt about with laughter just like 
linen flapping in the wind, and soon the others
joined in the fun, swirling and twirling
along the good time, refreshed and waiting 
for the next dance in the sun.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

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December 18, 2020 · 2:50 pm

And Cut Them Into Pieces – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Peter is hosting Meeting the Bar with an invitation to explore endings/beginnings.

dVerse Poets – MTB – Endings/Beginnings

Photo: pixabay.com

“I’m interested in memory because it’s a filter through which we see our lives ….” Kazuo Ishiguro

And Cut Them Into Pieces

I lived the secrets and cut them into pieces
lest they find me and undo my perfect belief
that I am indeed my true self and not another,
a mere codicil to a footnote of self-deception.

Lest they find me and undo my perfect belief
that I am merely myself and no purified saint,
a mere codicil to a footnote of self-deception,
lost in the annals of myopic delusions.

That I am merely myself and no purified saint,
exposed to the world, bared in all emptiness,
lost in the annals of myopic delusions,
accusing me or mirroring myself to my face.

Exposed to the world, bared in all emptiness,
that I am indeed my true self and not another,
accusing me of mirroring myself to my face,
I lived the secrets and cut them into pieces.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

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December 4, 2020 · 2:43 pm

The Yellow Thrum – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Grace has invited us to once again look at synesthesia, this time music as colour.

dVerse Poets – Meeting the Bar – Synesthesia

Photo: pixabay.com

“Although I see colours in every song, it’s the artist put his (sic) heart and soul into that produce the best images.” Melissa McCracken

The Yellow Thrum

The prologue for a country pastorale
was a warm summer's picnic basket
where the oranges dislodged and fell
into the sky a new palette which walked
like a bass line thrumming deep orange
right down my spine a glow turning
crimson with vibrations lighting up
the grey neutral neural centre with
a blistering violin solo so thin it
caught fire across the parchment of 
dots to be joined in a minor key, 
while the coda became a sombre 
capitulation to the merging rainbow
pulsating backbeat defibrillating my
plexus in bursts of visceral orange and 
yellow treble cross talking me all the way
to ecstatic floods of warm mood in C.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

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November 6, 2020 · 3:48 pm

Spiced As Wise – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Grace is hosting Meeting the Bar and she has invited us to write a poem working with grapheme colour synesthesia.

dVerse Poets – Meeting The Bar

Photo: unsplash.com

“The colour yellow is a mystical experience shared by everybody.” Tom Stoppard

Spiced As Wise

Orla wandered a new 
beginning trusting herself to this 
new path with an optimism born 
of moonlight where she yellowed 
a glow from her very centre 
that radiated so golden,
spiced as wise cumin to be 
lavishly bestowed on all the 
suns in the orbit of her generous 
aching flames bursting upon the 
scene beyond mellow fields,
seeking beyond hue to the
crackling of possibility.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

Note: I am stronger at hearing and feeling colour than seeing it in letters. The name Orla is Celtic and can be translated as Golden Princess. O is my starting point as O is yellow and so it goes.

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October 23, 2020 · 2:41 pm

Rumbling – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Peter at dVerse is hosting Meeting The Bar and his invitation is to write a poem based around sounds.

dVerse Poets- Meeting The Bar – Let your words ring out

Photo: shutterstock.com

“I’ll have what she’s having” (cafe patron played by Estelle Reiner) ‘When Harry Met Sally’

Rumbling 

Stiletto staccato on platform five
invites leather soul antiphon, an
echo of his quiet love quickening
her pulsing temple oblivious to 
the bustle of the milling crowd
passing in the shadows, 
oblivious to the hum in this nest
of hulking, clanking metallic beasts
whose breath shouts for presence,
aware only of reaching into each 
other with shivering groans,
the whole place rumbling as they
filled its emptiness, she smiled,
he was confused, he hadn't 
expected that train to come in.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

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Filed under awareness, erotic, Free Verse, life, love, poem, quote, relationship, Trains

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September 25, 2020 · 3:20 pm

Dear Leaders – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Grace at dVerse is hosting Meeting the Bar, and the theme we are invited to write about is Protest. dVerse Poets – Meeting the Bar – Protest Poetry

Photo: ocjndaily.com Ocean City, New Jersey, a protest in response to the murder of George Floyd.

“There may be times when we are powerless to prevent injustice, but there must never be a time when we fail to protest.” Elie Wiesel 

Dear Leaders

There is no life in you,
you who are nothing more
than a husk blowing in the 
winds of rebellion,
I see your guns and gas
uniformed in fear of decency as
you sneer at the sensitivities of
ordinary people concerned for
some semblance of democracy
midst the pious, honeyed corruption
you pedal to steal the dreams of
our children as you piss in our waters
and foul our fields with your 
poisonous rhetoric so religiously
flavoured as to make God vomit,
while you continue to kill your 
own as if blood stains down your
highways is some note of triumph
for the totems you bend to in your 
spineless dereliction of humanity.
You can kill my body but you will
never kill my enduring spirit that
is me, we, together naming your
legacy of fetid lies and murder,
and we will make a road of integrity
to pass right over you without 
memorial or reward save for some
flowers to mark the hollow graves
that you are.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

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Filed under community, Economics, Free Verse, injustice, justice, life, philosophy, poem, politics, poverty, protest, quote, Racism

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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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January 17, 2020 · 12:37 pm

Shall I Be Real? – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

dVerse Poets – Meeting the Bar – Soliloquy 

Frank at dVerse has invited us to write a soliloquy, to speak one’s interior dialoguee aloud. Latin: solus – alone; loqui – speak.

thinking-272677__480.jpg

Photo: pixabay.com

 

“Can you remember who you were, before the world told you who you should be?”  Charles Bukowski

Shall I be Real?

Who am I in this curling world,
do I speak from that deeper self,
the I who sees all of all
and knows a word,
or, do I hide and speak a simple side
of who they want of me,
will I pretend to be one of them
and speak their truth against myself,
shall I pretend of them or
shall I be real of me?

©Paul Vincent Cannon

Paul, pvcann.com

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