Tag Archives: poem

March 11, 2023 · 1:29 pm

We Went – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Image by Peggy und Marco Lachmann-Anke from Pixabay

“Fear is the mother of morality” Friedrich Nietzsche 

We Went

We went down to the church in pews
to tremble with the organ and
listen to well meant platitudes
long past reality as we know it,
all tents pitched in tribal territory,
centuries old moralisms as small
totems of fear set against delight,
Vaulted words ricocheting off the ceiling,
but no mention of the revolution of love,
home we went with hearts 
black as our winter coats.



Copyright 2023 ©️Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®️

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March 10, 2023 · 3:46 pm

There Goes The Family Again – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Laura is hosting Meeting the Bar with an invitation to write a tercet, choosing from a list either a compound word, or three words connected. I chose Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

dVerse Poets – MTB – Three Way Split

Image found on pinterest.com

“The world is charged with the grandeur of God.” Gerard Manley Hopkins

There Goes The Family Again

1. Typical father, running late of excuses,
drove his son to the Bethlehem saloon
for his starring role in a nativity play,
and the customary custody handover,
or Mary would let him have it.

2. What is it with Spanish mothers,
is it true that every second male is 
named Jesus, for god's sake why?
Are they all fishermen at play,
pulling coins from the mouths of fish?

3. The father ordered a second round,
the bar tender leered long at Mary,
dad drew and shot him full of that
one hundred percent  proof 67 spirit,
that got him cupid in the heart.


Copyright 2023 ©️Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®️

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March 9, 2023 · 1:27 pm

Then And Now – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: motionarray.com

“Gratitude is when memory is stored in the heart and not in the mind.” Lionel Hampton

Then And Now

I knelt
under the washing line
in meditation
plucking sun burned weeds
from cracks.

Overhead the washing
flicked,
crisp,
cracked
in the breeze.

Then 
I was running,
through familiar grass
with summer in my hair,
and hope in my heart.

Now
I return,
walking towards the day
with autumn on my face,
and hope ever in my heart.


Copyright 2023 ©️Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®️

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March 8, 2023 · 3:47 pm

Today I Set Aside My Sensible Shoes – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Lisa is hosting Poetics with an invitation to write about play.

dVerse Poets – Poetics – Playtime

Image by Hands off my tags! Michael Gaida from Pixabay

“Every path hath a puddle.” George Herbert

Today I Set Aside My Sensible Shoes

Intrusive clouds
collected
in the hollows,
dull grey puddles,
reminders of
stepping over,
stepping around,
onwards,
the weight on my wrist
ever calling,
but,
today
I set aside
my sensible shoes
for a splash or two,
recalling laughter,
reclaiming joy 
between my toes.


Copyright 2023 ©️Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®️

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March 7, 2023 · 2:09 pm

Last Gasp – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse De is hosting the Quadrille (44 words) with an invitation to write a poem using the word, or a form of the word, gasp.

dVerse Poets – Quadrille – Poetry is a Kind of Gasp

Photo: A stretcher bearer provides a cigarette to a wounded soldier, WW1, found at stokesentinel.co.uk

“He lighted a cigarette, and in the curling smoke of it caught visions ….” Jack London

Note: a gasper was in old English parlance, a cigarette, especially amongst the military.

Last Gasp

Gaspers for bullets
to disappear pain,
nineteen to the dozen,
while the hack digs my wound.
"No filter" he said
as I screamed.
What a drag, I thought
as I sucked the stub,
hoping for visions of heaven
exhaling life
with my last gasp.


Copyright 2023 ©️Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®️

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March 6, 2023 · 2:22 pm

Taut-ology – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: pngplay.com

“If you think negatively, its hard to get out of tense moments.” Caroline Wozniacki

Taut-ology

Such a small detail,
the collar of her blouse
out of kilter,
accentuating the almost
imperceptible tightening of her jaw,
so too her constantly rippling fingers
softly moving in a syncopation of
tension in her taut responses,
delivered in short, staccato bursts,
her teeth all steel.
I left the meeting rubbing my neck,
seeking respite.



Copyright 2023 ©️Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®️

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March 5, 2023 · 4:06 pm

That Strange Religion – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: thestar.com

“Why is it immoral to to be paid for an act that is perfectly legal if done for free?” Gloria Allred

That Strange Religion

"Hey
waddya lookin at mate?"
she snarled across the asphalt.

Oblivious
I realised the endearment
was for me.

She
at a distance,
fifties,
fishnets,
high, so high heels,
a belt for a skirt,
her lips as proud as
her pushup.

I
looked at the church door 
as I passed by,
an epiphany,
I shouted back
without judgement,
"O, just one of God's children."

She
grunted and ushered
her client into his car.
Her congregation,
his communion,
that strange religion.


Copyright 2023 ©️Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®️

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March 4, 2023 · 12:35 pm

In Vain – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

“Speak when you are angry and you will make the best speech you will ever regret.” Ambrose Bierce 

In Vain

I wanted to tell the world,
to shout
that I so disagreed,
but I could not find adequate words,
instead, I plucked at what I had
and forced them into lines
like bullets on a bandolier
awaiting a riddled body of consequences,
in vain I fumed,
my excited bluster
jamming in the overheated barrel
of my well intentioned cause celebre,
a squib of argument,
wilted,
therefore, I refrain.


Copyright 2023 ©️Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®️

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March 3, 2023 · 3:20 pm

To Minna – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Lillian is hosting Open Link Night – the night we choose a poem to post. Lillian has dedicated this OLN to the late Glen Butkus a friend of many at dVerse. If you knew, or even if you didn’t know Glen, there is more information about his work, some examples of his poetry and a link to his work when you follow the link below.

dVerse Poets – OLN – An OLN Memoriam to Glenn Butkus

“Dying is an art, like everything else.” Sylvia Plath

To Minna

I gather that this may well
be our last correspondence,
I'm sorry to leaden this moment
with such a feel of finality,
but you have been so free to say
(which is true of you)
that you are on your way,
and you have been telling us all
for quite some time now,
that this moment would arrive,
sooner than we'd like and 
probably when we're all in the 
middle of something busy,
and here it is,
and here you are,
and there you will be.

Godspeed my Dear Friend,
Until ....



Copyright 2023 ©️Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®️

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March 2, 2023 · 3:06 pm

In Her Quiet Way – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

“Day after day, ordinary people become heroes through extraordinary and selfless actions.” Sylvia Matthews Burwell

In Her Quiet Way

Things are not always evident on face value,
never judge a book by its cover they say,
she was no different in her quite way,
some would say she merely had a walk on part,
that her life was lived in a deep pocket,
but that would be an assumption,
her name alone held up walls,
even the sky, 
and, like Moses 
she parted water for a generation
in need of escape,
while her words pushed up floors
as she intoned the reality around her,
naming the evils so closely held
by those who lauded themselves
and ruled her world.



Copyright 2023 ©️Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®️

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