Tag Archives: Poetics

April 7, 2021 · 9:39 am

Passing – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Lisa is hosting poetics with an invitation to flip the meaning of a poem written by self or other, or to write a Diamanté form poem (seven lines) which flips the first word at the end. I have attempted a Diamante form.

dVerse Poets – Poetics – Flipping Meanings

Photo: Geralt at pixabay.com

“Getting old is like climbing a mountain; you get a little out of breath, but the view is much better.” Ingrid Bergman

Passing

Flesh
smooth, creamy
inviting, inciting, enfolding,
youthful, erotic, mature, parched
ageing, dwindling, passing
old, dry
bone.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

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March 31, 2021 · 1:57 pm

She Walked Lightly – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse De is hosting poetics with an invitation to write laundry poems.

dVerse Poets – Poetics – Put Your Words On Spin Cycle

Photo: http://www.thespruce.com

“Abnormal reaction to an abnormal situation is normal behaviour.” Victor Frankl

She Walked Lightly

Slowly she emptied the white enamel 
reliquary of all that was his and, like a 
crow, she picked over the bones of his
cottoned life, stored memories lodged
deep in her body, the dissonance of
happiness and sadness washing over
her in one slow wave as the sun 
warmed and opened her to feelings
held tightly in her chest, now aired,
set free, at last she walked lightly 
back to the verandah for the first 
time since that day when everything 
closed in and nothing seemed normal.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

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Filed under Free Verse, grief, life, poem, quote, relationship

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March 17, 2021 · 5:35 am

Unframed – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Kim is hosting Poetics with an invitation to write a poem using the verse “This being human is …” from a poem by Rumi and to use it as the first line or start.

dVerse Poets – Poetics – The Art of Being Human

Photo: found at lolwot.com

“I have fallen in love with the imagination. And if you fall in love with the imagination, you understand that it is a free spirit. It will go anywhere, and it can do anything.” Alice Walker

Unframed

This being human is more shades than pastels,
though one should never deny the textures or
even the subtlety of brush strokes that paint 
us into surprising vignettes in the corners of
the broader canvas, woven together with gesso
and primaries, themes, and understated meanings
that form a palette of feelings rising through
bold statements and the wash of background time,
but one thing I'd leave off is the frame, this 
being human is paradoxical and bears no frame 
at all in an unframed abstract life.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

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March 10, 2021 · 3:31 pm

Shooting The Breeze – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Sanaa is hosting Poetics and exploring the poetic genre looking at the verse epistle.

dVerse Poets – Poetics – Verse Epistle

Photo: found at businessinsider.com.au

“Once wealth and beauty are gone, there is always rural life.” Mason Cooley

Shooting The Breeze

Dear Jacko, it's been a while,
I do hope you and yours are well,
still fencing out dingoes I suppose,
last we spoke the windmill was like
the townies here, lost its bearings,
and fallen beyond the pale,
I wish I was out there with you,
chasing roos and watching twenty-eights,
eating wild plums and swimming at the 
water hole, instead I'm stuck here,
it's gone to shit what with all the
rules and vacuous fools, galahs, who 
run the place, oily bastards who bleed that
old disease of privilege built on plastic 
lies and unicorns, like we're entering
the promised land, but all we have is
alarm clocks, deadlines and rising costs
strewn down the asphalt of insane hope,
lost in the cobwebs of my mind. I'd love to 
go on a bit more but I must go mate,
I'll let you know when we're coming,
just so you can lock up the .22, I might
well cock the hammer and shoot the 
plasma screen. I can hear you laughing,
"Silly bugger", let's shoot the breeze
instead and, of course, some beers.
Well mate, must go, that's stirred me 
up no end.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

32 Comments

Filed under Country, Farm, Free Verse, life, poem, quote, Verse Epistle

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March 3, 2021 · 1:55 pm

Fringe Angel – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Lisa is hosting Poetics with an invitation to consider four paths. I chose Fringe though edge works just as well.

dVerse Poets – Poetics – Edges and Fringes

Photo: america.aljazeera.com

“People who are homeless are not social inadequates. They are people without homes.” Sheila McKechnie

Fringe Angel

Suddenly,
on life's vacant fringe,
one cool autumn morn,
she appeared before me,
apart from the crowd,
with her tottering gait and
pungent threads with a 
sacredness of holes and 
Job's necrous ash, her
trolley full of rainbow's 
hope, she took in the 
vendor's stern eye and 
moved along, "not my 
problem" he muttered to 
no one but the sky,
leaving me wondering,
why is she not my problem?
Later, I saw her in the park,
tongues of fire all around her,
and a dove on her hand.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

44 Comments

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February 24, 2021 · 1:06 pm

She Was – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Laura is hosting Poetics with an invitation to paradox using inspiration from two sources, my choice is Paul Dunbar.

dVerse Poets – Poetics – Beyond Meaning or The Resolution of Opposites

Photo: st2.depositphotos.com

“I am the fool in the morning, thou art my slave in the night.” Paul Dunbar (The Paradox)

She Was

Dressed of innocence in the light
she revelled as mistress by dark,
when maxis gave way to minis in taxis,
water surrendered to whiskey, and
walk gave way to strut and swagger
of rounded hips, explicit though hidden,
between cotton and leather, though
lace was ambivalent and undecided,
her breathtaking purity as decadence
or sultry vamp as coy as a maiden,
she was as enigmatic as any code
yet unbroken though known.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

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February 17, 2021 · 2:15 pm

I Wanted To Shout – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Mish is hosting Poetics with an invitation to write about an aspect of colour. dVerse Poets – Poetics – True Colours?

Image: wallpapersafari.com

“Black is like a broken vessel which is deprived of the capacity to contain anything.” Leonardo da Vinci

I Wanted To Shout

Who coloured the rules of perception
and mood, that we should believe,
my mind ran to blends and melds as
we prepared to lay him in the ground,
his widow insistent that her black
mood of absence paint the sky that
day so that we could feel her abstract
soul while I wanted to shout spectrum
across the air of sorrow that hung idle 
and impotent over us, choking the very
soil awe stood on, and I wanted the 
freedom to breathe a homemade
palette nuanced for all my feelings
rushing like a train.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

28 Comments

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February 10, 2021 · 3:07 pm

Something Ancient – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Sarah is hosting Poetics with and invitation to write about Fungi.

dVerse Poets – Poetics – Let’s Have Fun Guys

Photo: chinesemedicineliving.com

“Be not afraid of growing slowly, be afraid of standing still.” Chinese proverb

Something Ancient

Something ancient of generations
speaks from hidden forest places
into my fractured, fragmented life,
of something more than physical,
an awakening expansion of 
abundant life, an elixir of healing,
reishi, the Ling Zhi, bearer of deep
wisdom for all who share its
patient ferment.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

24 Comments

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February 3, 2021 · 3:40 pm

Whispering Suicide – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Bjorn has invited us to write about war. dVerse Poets – Poetics – War Poetry

Photo: Jim Huylebroek for the New York Times

“Only the dead have seen the end of war.” Plato

Whispering Suicide

Cheap little saccharine songs for mud,
manufactured jingles to make you numb 
to death, mixed ideologies competing for your 
mind, hollow promises for free, tacky coloured 
rectangles of cloth whispering suicide to the 
flesh of youth who dream of becoming,
who are the heroes in this  moral 
vacuum of life's bitter ebb, where
are the children of this rancid death 
cult now.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

30 Comments

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January 27, 2021 · 5:24 pm

That I Might – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVersed Laura is hosting poetics with an invitation to think about endings, and, using an ending of a known poem to begin our own.

dVerse Poets – Poetics – Beginning at the end

I have chosen “Call me to lie down in fragrance.” from the poem ‘Season of Lilac’ by Dave Margoshes

Photo: pixabay.com

“Nobody has ever measured, not even poets, how much the heart can hold.” Zelda Fitzgerald

That I Might

Call me to lie down in fragrance
beyond where the wattle's spring
glow speaks of love immortal,
that I might rise impassioned
with a scent of all my tomorrows
vested in your every movement,
dance your fingers slowly upon me
that my life would spill over.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

26 Comments

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