Tag Archives: Open Link Night

October 4, 2019 · 4:42 am

Gifted – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

dVerse Poets – Open Link Night

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Photo: pxhere.com

 

“Hope is a helium balloon. It is a wish lantern set out into the dark sky of night.”  Sharon Weil

 

Gifted

I want to laugh
as infectious giggles fill the air
a family,
its youngest gifted a balloon,
so enthralled, excited
running carefree,
trusting, or was it forgetting
with a letting go
just to see it floating,
the child was sad and crying,
but I really understood that balloon,
and I held it in my heart
gifted by its freedom.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

Paul, pvcann.com

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September 20, 2019 · 12:55 pm

That Feeling – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

dVerse Poets – Open Link Night

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Photo: pixabay.com

 

“Let a thousand wrangling desires become one love.”  Rumi

That Feeling

That feeling
when the days run to sighing
and longing
because you sense
there is something more,
and sitting,
but not wanting to, rather
desiring to take to the ramparts
of the moment and fully possess them,
to pluck out meaning
and make sense of the world
as if to clear the rain drops from
a window and see
what you have always seen
for the first time,
and know it like an old friend.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

Paul, pvcann.com

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August 9, 2019 · 1:21 pm

Seamless – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

dVerse Poets – Open Link Night

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Photo: pixabay.com

 

“Feelings come and go like clouds in a windy sky. Conscious breathing is my anchor.”  Thich  Nhat Hahn

 

Seamless

To contemplate breathing
now there’s a thing,
a rhythm of
an inward and outward breath,
so simple really, and yet,
where is the juncture
the beginning or end,
though differently constituted
there are no parts
neither this or that,
just one continuous
seamless movement.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

Paul, pvcann.com

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June 28, 2019 · 2:37 pm

Stillness That Moves – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

dVerse Poets – Open Link Night

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Photo: pixnio.com

 

Stillness That Moves

That feeling
when stillness moves,
vertiginous upheaval
transfer of heat,
second law of the
thermodynamics of love
rising,
growing,
but should it cool
then let the grasses
caress you to a
stillness that moves.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

 

Paul, pvcann.com

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June 14, 2019 · 2:59 pm

That Point – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

dVerse Poets – Open Link Night

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Art: Henri Rosseau 1840 – 1910. Post Impressionism. ‘The Sleeping Gypsy’ 1897.

 

 

That Point

That point when all has fallen away
when darkness has become a shroud on
which the psychedelia of dreamland
can majestically paint all that is
the technicolour stereopticon of
surreal unconscious lunar tides
on which I rise and fall,
just as breathing
so as dreaming,
until irruption rends and
registers other, lesser worlds
leaving disorientation in its wake
with the sorrow of leaving,
no going back
not wanting to go forward,
arrested state,
so as sleeping,
so as life.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

 

Paul, pvcann.com

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May 31, 2019 · 3:07 pm

I Dare – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

dVerse Poets – Open Link Night

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Photo: youtube.com

I Dare

To close the door
I close myself,
hinged on a thin
premise of protection
against your congealed words,
While yet sowing
Seeds of destruction,
Calloused,
ridged against
the pain,
and shutting out the world,
but the pain lingers,
festers,
until once again
I dare to open that door,
and so, to open myself.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

Paul, pvcann.com

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May 17, 2019 · 12:28 pm

To Let It Go – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

dVerse Poets – Open Link Night – 243

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Photo: pixabay.com

 

To Let It Go

To let it go
a wrench of the self
that old school book
an identity so dull now
so precious then,
is it that I yearn for what was,
all I could be,
or, is it that I am less settled now
in my certainty?

©Paul Vincent Cannon

 

Paul, pvcann.com

 

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May 3, 2019 · 2:28 pm

Her Gift Remains – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

dVerse Poets – Open Link Night – Journey With Me

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Photo: found at birdlife.org.au a female Splendid Fairy Wren (often colloquially called Blue Wren).

 

Her Gift Remains

 

Today’s first gift
flew close by me a
flutter of wings that
I felt before I saw her,
she came alongside
hopping from shrub to shrub
just ahead of me
watching, trilling,
as if heralding,
and, at last she waited
or so it seemed,
and as I drew level
she looked at me intently
and, as it were,
I’m certain she smiled
cocked her head
as if hello
then took her leave,
yet ever present
her gift remains.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

 

Paul, pvcann.com

55 Comments

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