Tag Archives: Poetics

July 14, 2021 · 1:29 pm

Garden Song – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse guest host Claudia has invited us to write about a garden.

dVerse Poets – Poetics – Garden(ing)

Photo: segment of our garden at Augusta.

“When the world wearies and society fails to satisfy, there is always the garden.” Minnie Aumonier

Garden Song

There's a cosmos in reach of my aching
touch of skin and veins, beneath my feet
emotion runs and wriggles, and it dwells 
within as I inhale its many spices in unison
with the palette that captures my eyes, 
feeding my senses with songs of colour 
and rhythmic joy, opening me to each
movement of this wondrous melody of
all that flies and calls, great or small, 
calling me to stop, slow down, and sip 
the wine of its simple complexity.


Copyright 2021 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

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June 16, 2021 · 2:39 pm

The Bartleby – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Sanaa is hosting Poetics and has invited to use a minimalist photo (choice of 12) by Glenn Buttkus of South Sound Minimalist Photos.

dVerse Poets – Poetics – Exploring the Realm of Minimalist Photography

Photo courtesy of Glenn Buttkus (link above)

“Life moves on and so should we.” Spencer Johnson

The Bartleby

We named it the Bartleby because,
on most days, on most journeys it
preferred not to go anywhere at all,
to the point of disappointment so
irrupting that we persisted and 
pushed it to a limit of ourselves,
and the going was tougher than 
expected, until finally, a moment 
came when the wheels fell off our
manic endeavour, and there and 
then we left the Bartleby, much
preferring not to.

Copyright 2021 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®


Note: some of you may not be aware of the reference to Bartleby = 'Bartleby The Scrivener' by Herman Melville

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June 9, 2021 · 1:54 pm

The Unknown – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Tricia has invited us to write about risk. dVerse Poets – Poetics – Take a risk

Photo: Cape Leeuwin, more than a couple of wrecks out there in the reef and rocks.

“Only those those who risk going too far can possibly find out how far they can go.” T.S. Eliot

The Unknown

If I remain as I am the
boat will sail without me,
past the shallows I wade in,
near the reef I have only
transcended in my wintry 
dreams, uncertain of the 
clearance  of my keel which 
has kept me even for so long,
and now, looking at the vast
horizon with anticipation,
knowing that I risk more by
not plunging into the unknown.

Copyright 2021 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

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May 5, 2021 · 8:16 am

The Old Boat – a narrative poem – by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Ingrid is hosting Poetics with an invitation to write using the narrative voice.

dVerse Poets – Poetics – Exploring the Narrative Voice

Photo: pxhere.com

“…. it is a boat longing for the sea and yet afraid.” Edgar Lee Masters

The Old Boat

I creak and groan like an arthritic bone,
my timbers are brittle and fey,
and I'm uncertain of my future
but they are taking me once again
across the adventure of waters
that thrill my boards and fill my sheets
with risk and the trample of my deck,
and I wait for the sea to wash me clean
of all that human debris,
now this might be my last as my time
is well past, but I'd rather sink than
be scuttled on clay.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

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May 5, 2021 · 7:12 am

In These Moments – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Ingrid is hosting Poetics with an invitation to write a poem using narrative voice.

dVerse Poets – Poetics – Exploring the Narrative Voice

Photo: Shoalwater Bay, looking out west to Penguin Island a protected breeding ground for Little Penguins (the largest colony of Little Penguins in Western Australia).

“The greatest thing in the world is to know how to belong to oneself.” Michel de Montaigne

In These Moments 

My heart is weighted and I must move 
into an unknown without my crutches 
which are leaning against the balustrade 
of friendships that are a kindness to me;
however, this moment is mine alone if I
choose to embrace its ambiguous intrusion,
begging persistently for a decision that
can only arise through painstaking discernment
which will point me somewhere, just not here,
and hopefully not to the shore of illusions;
it is in these moments that I know I am
an island, yet not alone.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

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April 28, 2021 · 3:00 pm

Small Ways – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Merril is hosting Poetics with an invitation to write a Puente – a poem with a bridge.

dVerse Poets – Poetics – Build a Bridge

Photo: Tree growing from rock at Leda Reserve

“A river cuts through rock, not because of its power, but because of its persistence.” James N. Watkins

Small Ways

I think it's in the very small ways,
the infinitesimal, inconsequential actions
of fidelity to simplicity in all things

∽ that enables me to change ∼

the greater injustices around me,
slowly, incrementally, as I change myself
to an infidelity to complexity in all things.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

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April 14, 2021 · 4:13 pm

Blue Tongue Holding The Sun – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Kim is hosting poetics and inviting us to write in the first person comparing a trait of ours with something animal.

dVerse Poets – Poetics

Photo: a young “Bobtail” goanna, one of Australia’s Blue Tongue lizards.

“Everything in nature invites us constantly to be what we are.” Gretel Erlich

Blue Tongue Holding The Sun

There you were,
Blue tongue holding the sun,
your hiss warned that I had surprised you
and yet you didn't scuttle away, you stood
your ground and held my gaze, wary,
so like the corners of the world behind my
eyes where the unrelenting suspicion of 
strangers has cauterised the world against
joy, the hiss of distrust thrust against 
possibility with open mouthed disdain,
besides, when did the giants of this world 
care for the small ones, that they could
merely bask in the sun of wholeness
without fear of looming shadows of deceit?
And there you were holding trust.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

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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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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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