Tag Archives: Open Link Night

June 2, 2023 · 11:51 pm

The Language Of Storms – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Mish is hosting Open Link Night the night we choose a poem to post.

dVerse Poets – OLN

Image: found at trainerslibrary.com

“Change only favours minds that are diligently looking and preparing for discovery.” Louis Pasteur

The Language of Storms

There’s a feeling of relief

when the storm has passed and

all that was anxiously anticipated

failed to materialise (again),

while life rolls on in a truce

between heaven and hell

until a storm interrupts with tension,

stealing our focus,

like the unwelcome visitor,

sickness, accident,

or unpleasant experience,

at some point relief comes and

we return to something called normal

forgetting, until the next time,

and I wonder that we’re missing something,

that storms are not fearful intrusions,

in some unforeseen way

they are our guides,

we just need to pay attention

to the language of storms.

Copyright 2023 ©️Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®️

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May 12, 2023 · 12:57 pm

Were you Aware? – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Linda is hosting Open Link Night when we choose a poem to post.

dVerse Poets – OLN – Summer Is Coming

Image by JackieLou DL from Pixabay

“Blessed are the hearts that can bend; they shall never be broken.” Albert Camus

Were you Aware?

Did it matter that you waited,
and even then
the bird flew away.

Were you aware of how you felt,
that it was so,
things were fine,
until a moment ago
when it went away?

Like those liminal moments,
crossing over,
leaving a known for an unknown
needing to go but uncertain,
aware and unaware at the same time.

Embodying so many feelings
as to overflowing,
a glimpse of our soul
as when birds fly away.

Were you aware?


Copyright 2023 ©️Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®️

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April 28, 2023 · 3:24 pm

Now I Can See – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Grace is hosting Open Link Night, the night we choose a poem to post.

dVerse Poets – OLN

Broken mirror – istockphoto.com

“Because we think in a fragmentary way, we see fragments. And this way of seeing leads us to make actual fragments of the world.” Susan Griffin

Now I Can See

I forget what caused it,
but then I don't want to remember,
the mirror broke into what 
seemed like a thousand pieces
one ordinary, calm day long ago,
and the world changed
as it does when you see it
through slivers and shards,
piecemeal vignettes,
a peep show,
scattered moments,
I glued the pieces back together,
such a mess,
no longer one, instead
a collected whole,
now I can see
clearly.


Copyright 2023 ©️Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®️

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March 31, 2023 · 1:06 pm

Somewhere In The Middle – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Linda is hosting Open Link Night where we choose a poem to post.

dVerse Poets – OLN

Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay

“In art, truth and reality begin when one no longer understands what one is doing or what one knows ….” Henri Matisse

Somewhere In The Middle

Reality is nine tenths of perception,
and I wonder how 
many realities there might be,
everyone a winner,
no single substantive truth,
versions of versions,
choose your own ending,
after all,
it's an arcade world,
a fluid dystopia of newsprint.
Equally, surely, 
meta-narratives are repressive fantasy.
Somewhere in the middle
lies human connection,
the potential real.


Copyright 2023 ©️Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®️

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February 3, 2023 · 1:42 pm

Wondering – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Grace is hosting Open Link Night when we post our own choice of poem.

dVerse Poets – OLN

Photo: resilientworker.net

“Existence is a series of footnotes to a vast, obscure, unfinished masterpiece.” Vladimir Nabokov 

Wondering

In my youth I always sensed 
a long tomorrow
always arriving
with plenty of time
for all I needed.

These days my tomorrows
are arriving loaded,
and burdened with
bear traps of yesterday's
unfinished business;

leaving me to ponder
the moment of my departure
from all my tomorrows,
wondering,
what might remain
tantalisingly unfinished?


Copyright 2023 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®️

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November 25, 2022 · 2:26 pm

Is Life Always Having To Reduce To Mere Frippery? – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

One for two:

#2022 November PAD Chapbook Challenge

Day 25 25.11.22

Prompt: Write a serious poem

Also submitted to dVerse Poets – OLN hosted by Grace – the night we choose a poem to submit.

Is Life Always Having To Reduce To Mere Frippery?

Is life always having to reduce to mere frippery,
those ice cream feel good moments invoked
to ward off anything approaching a taxing frown,
or wrestling an unresolved disquieted question?

Those ice cream feel good moments invoked
as stave for anything that would reduce laughter,
or wrestling an unresolved disquieted question
that awakens in the recesses of my mind.

As stave for anything that would reduce laughter,
whatever comes to hand will do for combat
that awakens in the recesses of my mind,
rather than face the seriousness that perches there.

Whatever comes to hand will do for combat
to ward off anything approaching a taxing frown,
rather than face the seriousness that perches there,
is life always having to reduce to mere frippery?



Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®️

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October 28, 2022 · 4:05 pm

We Are – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Linda is hosting Open Link Night, the night we choose what to post.

dVerse Poets – OLN

Photo: johnhain at pixabay.com

“Our deeds determine us, as much as we determine our deeds.” George Eliot 

We Are 

Words are words,
but in the right moment they
mangle the soul to a bloody pulp,
leaving wounds that cannot be seen.

looks are looks,
but on the day they can be
startling razors draining life
in long straight slices of endings.

Actions are actions,
but in the interplay they can
bruise the hearts memory
for a lifetime or forever.

Love is love,
but when it's twisted
it ceases to bear any resemblance
to the desire once felt.

We are,
for better or worse,
who determine to be.


Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®️

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September 2, 2022 · 3:09 pm

There Used To Be Twenty – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Linda is hosting Open Link Night when we are invited to post a poem of our choosing.

dVerse Poets – OLN

“I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity.” Edgar Allan Poe

There Used To Be Twenty

I'm having a garage sale,
my sanity's going cheap,
and my vanity is worn so
make me an offer and I'll 
throw in a few lost aspirations
and some fragments of jealousy,
there's a chunk of broken
innocence, sadly no spare parts,
though I can offer bits of 
placated ego that might help
patch that mess, and there's
a box of baggage for when 
you're haunted, and a couple
of packets of mixed nuts and
a bag of marbles, there used
to be twenty but five are missing,
cash only.


Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®️

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August 5, 2022 · 4:22 pm

Those Words Must Wait – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

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

dVerse Poets – OLN – Blast Off

Image by Artsy Solomon from Pixabay

“Noise creates illusions. Silence brings truth.” Maxime Lagace

Those Words Must Wait

There are times when I cannot speak,
when the story simply won't come,
because those words must wait until
they can be placed in an understanding
and be fully received so that they are
not lost in the noise that is everywhere,
where they will be swallowed up and 
ruined before they have time to birth
an idea, a meaning, possibilities for
the world.


Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®️

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June 24, 2022 · 2:36 pm

Vicarious Fakery – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Ingrid is hosting Open Link Night, when we choose our own poem for posting.

dVerse Poets – OLN

Image by Sammy-Sander from Pixabay

“A hero is someone who has given his or her life to something bigger than oneself.” Joseph Campbell

Vicarious Fakery

Those movies,
patriarchal propaganda,
offering dominance as power,
the pretty mistress as icing,
a tasty treat rescued by a man,
who is, of course, impervious to 
multiple wounds that would 
hospitalise most of us and
whose guns seem to have 
exponential magazines that
never run out, leaving the 
audience pumped full of the 
weird sense that they too are
immortal heroes ready to 
rescue and fix our version
of the world.


Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®️

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