“If you are not too long, I will wait here for you all my life.” Oscar Wilde
Together The place where we lay down together, this spiced bed of infinite pleasures, an imaginarium that fills my senses, opening me to the sacred moment, everything taking on new meaning, with feelings like white water, dangerous and ecstatic, all at once, a place hallowed by the enfolding of love. Copyright 2021 ©Paul Vincent Cannon All rights Reserved ®
“When emptiness is still, that is eternity. When it moves that is love.” Adyashanti
Like Winter Gulls If love is possible how will it survive when all my self-beliefs, like winter gulls, have migrated south, leaving me with the immutable feeling that meaning has abandoned me in a place where I don't have myself, just a vacuum of abstractions, like the absurd question, if love is possible, how will it describe me. Copyright 2021 ©Paul Vincent Cannon All rights Reserved ®
Filed under awareness, Free Verse, identity, life, poem, psychology, quote
At dVerse Mish is hosting Poetics with an invitation to write about fruit.
dVerse Poets – Poetics – Always In Season
“Age is not all decay, it is the ripening, the swelling, of the fresh life within that withers and bursts the husk.” George MacDonald
The Blueberries In the very first of the season came the promise of delight cached in smooth, taught, dark skin, shining, exposed, ripening before the sun, full of rich delight to please any tongue or wanton fingers willing to scoop the sugared, juicy high, now torn at first bite, passion longing for another, and then another, until consumed in faint exhaustion, sated, drunk, and only then noticing the pink tinged florets modestly calling my eyes to something deeper than a possession of fruit, and so in the latter of the season I gazed into your abundant, fruitful self, waiting to be gathered together in a devotion fit for a tender deity. Copyright 2021 ©Paul Vincent Cannon All Rights Reserved ®
At dVerse Linda is hosting the Quadrille (44 words) with an invitation to write about the word linger or any of its forms.
dVerse Poets – Quadrille – Linger
“Grief is the agony of an instant; the indulgence of grief the blunder of a life.” Benjamin Disraeli
Of Things Past The past lurks in the present, intensifying the sense of wanting to restore, heal, the original intention once the pride of purpose, now a felt grief, an if only, raising the question: can we overcome the grief of things past that linger within us? Copyright 2021 ©Paul Vincent Cannon All Rights Reserved ®
Filed under bush walking, camping, Country, Free Verse, grief, history, life, poem, Quadrille, quote
“Nothing matters more than when a person discovers their voice ….” Lisa Haynes
Lost In Aphasia What pricks your ears, does it make any sense as you graze the spice rack along the path of discovery, not caring for much at all, how do you muddle through, exponential acceleration or just curating your inheritance, fading out, remaining unaware, silent in anaemic, vanilla habits, lost in aphasia? Copyright 2021 ©Paul Vincent Cannon All Rights Reserved ®
Filed under awareness, Free Verse, life, poem, psychology, quote
“Friendship is a sheltering tree.” Samuel Taylor Coleridge
The Real Story Trees tower over me reaching for the sun, speaking to the sky in words beyond me, with ancient meaning lingering the boughs, ∼ but the real story is an understory spoken ∽ soft and low, gently grazing my ears with a delicate language greater than height of fine soul thirsty for the traffic of connection. Copyright 2021 ©Paul Vincent Cannon All Rights Reserved ®
“Every bad institution of this world ends by suicide.” Victor Hugo
Despite The Tiny Voice The ancient serpent lay sunning in the open noon warmth, sluggish and laden from decades of lazily gorging tripe, leaving the forest somewhat bare of life, despite the tiny voice that had pleaded for change, still the serpent followed its familiar comfort and, beginning with its tail, began slowly devouring itself in the belief that it could not possibly come to an end. Copyright 2021 ©Paul Vincent Cannon All Rights Reserved ®
“One needs others to get to know oneself.” Carl Jung
In Their Faces When the harrowing voice pierced my body a thick roke of darkness became my inward days, feeling the essence of sorrows all around me, reaching the fragile wraith of my heart into their deeps and seeing the innocent faces of loved ones peering through the the threshold of suffering as a multitude of all before, as a sign of hope that the cliches of time are true enough in honouring the layers of pain so easily stored in the flesh, now let go in the moment I see myself in their faces. Copyright 2021 ©Paul Vincent Cannon All Rights Reserved ®
“It is living and ceasing to live that are imaginary solutions. Existence is elsewhere.” Andre Breton
Where Do You Go? When something like that happens where do you go, how do you begin to bend time within time and cope with the grief of stolen promises, while remaining witness to the passing narrative. How do you begin to bend time within time, to create a new map of unexpected futures, while remaining witness to the passing narrative of the challenges of the disintegration of truths. To create a new map of unexpected futures that come from within our own imaginations, of the challenges of the disintegration of truths in the beautiful collapse of the so called real. That come from within our own imaginations, and cope with the grief of stolen promises in the beautiful collapse of the so called real, when something like that happens where do you go? Copyright 2021 ©Paul Vincent Cannon All Rights Reserved ®
Filed under life, mindfulness, Pantoum, poem, quote
At dVerse Sarah is hosting at the Poets Pub with an invitation to write about Creepies and crawlies.
dVerse Poets – Poets Pub – Creepies and Crawlies
With a furry little flurry I'm always on the scurry when a shadow intrudes to remind me that you're so beyond big I can't flirt with you, and so I run and run, though slowly, so as not to attract your attention to my plight as I take flight with all my might, that I could make for cover fast, as in the past, and at last I would hide my pride in the shrubbery in recovery, and start my day all over again, without your imposing shadow and, unlike my prey, live to scurry another day. Copyright 2021 ©Paul Vincent Cannon All Rights Reserved ®
Filed under bush walking, nature, poem, quote
just another number
It's not the end of the story ;
stay curious,stay fascinated
Love, life & education
The daily life of an addict in recovery
a gathering of words between smiles
practising for a whole life
VI VERI VENIVERSUM VIVUS VICI
words of twilight
"Once a pond a time..."
Inspiration, History, Imagination
Bethany Swick writes hot romance and erotica.
Finding the extra in the ordinary
Where Words Come To Life
A collection of photographs.
Writing, books, food, music, Manchester and whatever else I can think of
Landscapes, Sunsets, Animals
just another number
It's not the end of the story ;
stay curious,stay fascinated
Love, life & education
The daily life of an addict in recovery
a gathering of words between smiles
practising for a whole life
VI VERI VENIVERSUM VIVUS VICI
words of twilight
"Once a pond a time..."
Inspiration, History, Imagination
Bethany Swick writes hot romance and erotica.
Finding the extra in the ordinary
Where Words Come To Life
