Tag Archives: Poetics

May 11, 2022 · 2:52 pm

Sweet Pomegranate – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Misky is hosting Poetics with an invitation to write a poem about food.

dVerse Poets – Poetics – Bon Appetit Food Poetry

Photo: Pomegranate by SusaWick at pixabay.com

“I would eat my way into perdition to taste you.” Jeanette Winterson

Sweet Pomegranate 

Your flesh so firm and rubenesquely rounded,
much the colour of a red wild rose, though
less of the wild of heart and so hard to get to,
needing to grasped firmly and torn apart until
your womb surrenders a thousand seed of
your life-blood bleeding down my chin as I 
rake your inner flesh for want of more.


Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

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May 4, 2022 · 2:19 pm

If Only – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Lisa is Hosting Poetics with an iinvitation to write about Elizabeth Kubler-Ross’ stages of grief – this is my second poem in response and this one is about anger.

dVerse Poets – Poetics – Small Change or Big Bucks

Photo: whoismargot at pixabay.com

“The fact is that when you admit that you can’t blame anyone or anything else, you begin to blame yourself.” Kate McGahan

If Only

Why,
why did you leave me in this living death 
with her, she all wrapped up in her needy 
ways and faux sorrow, her critical voices 
cutting my solace, taking my hours and 
swallowing my memories, throwing me
upon myself in a desolation of bones
and mocking my tears, I keep looking for 
you in my words and in the shadows of 
day, trying to pull you back, make everything
right again, especially her; if only I'd been 
there that day.


Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

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May 4, 2022 · 12:58 pm

Some Other Time? – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Lisa is hosting Poetics with an invitation to write a poem choosing one of the five stages of grief by Elizabeth Kubler-Ross – denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. I have chosen denial.

dVerse Poets – Poetics – Small Change or Big Bucks

Image: found at lifehacker.com

“The worst lies are the lies we tell ourselves. We live in denial of what we do, even what we think. We do this because we are afraid.” Richard Bach

Some Other Time?

Let's not talk about it now,
perhaps I'll feel like it tomorrow,
but, wait, Adele wants to come for lunch,
perhaps we should invite James too, and
what about Liz and Barry, this is good, 
just like the old days, what do you think?

Did you get the call from Frank about
the painting, no, well I've been thinking about 
what we said about redecorating, maybe 
the soft blues and creams, or maybe not, 
how about you? You seem unsure, have
you changed your mind?

Fay wanted to know how I was, so thoughtful,
and I thanked her for the book, which I read,
of course, you know the one, so helpful, I think 
I'm doing well just keeping busy and not dwelling 
on the grief. I think I'll go back to work in a couple 
of days, I miss it. What? You're very quiet?

More wine, no, well just a little for me then, 
I do love this place, do you remember when, 
and the words freeze in my mouth, and suddenly 
the tears well up in my eyes, tears I have been 
holding back, beginning to flow like a winter 
creek across my memories.


Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

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April 27, 2022 · 3:11 pm

This Time – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Ingrid is hosting Poetics with an invitation to take from a list of Shakespeare’s plays, one and write about its theme in a poem.

dVerse Poets – Poetics – Homage To The Bard

Painting: Ivan Aivazovsky, 1886, The Tempest WikiArt.org

“Misery acquaints a man with strange bedfellows.” William Shakespeare

This Time

To end this isolation I 
summon of the deep a 
portent to divide, a gyre 
dark whose ghosts of torment
always seek to visit misery upon
the unsuspecting sufferers,
leaden with the fate of zephyrs,
too weak to carry a thought
let alone a truth, and yet,
defying the odds, this time
the ship sails and all is well,
except for Caliban, that 
purveyor of lies now banished,
he alone shall not prosper
his schemes.


Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®



Note: the storm in The Tempest is over in the first act but forms the backdrop to the play and is a metaphor for life. The poem could be a metaphor for a modern Caliban but I really couldn't say 😀

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April 20, 2022 · 2:45 pm

Julia’s Kiss – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Merril is hosting Poetics with an invitation to choose from a list of rose names to write a poem about. I have chosen ‘Julia’s Kiss’

dVerse Poets – Poetics – Naming The Rose

Photo: cottonbro at pexels.com

“Kiss me and you will see how important I am.” Sylvia Plath

Julia's Kiss

She was no child despite her
finger hair curl distraction thing,
her cheesecloth off-the-shoulder
with garlanded hair, and her light,
tinkling brook laughter, she kissed
like a hungry, ravenous lion, like a 
growl, a roar of pleasure, a vibrato 
of the soul; Julia's kisses would
always take us from mere bud to
full bloom, she played strong.


Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

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April 13, 2022 · 4:05 pm

Before Me – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Mish is hosting Poetics with an invitation to write a poem using the inspiring work of Vika Muse instagram.com/get.muse or @get.muse.

dVerse Poets – Poetics – The Light of Vika Muse

Art Work: Vika Muse ‘Stop War (The Dandelion Field)’ @get.muse

“I have lost my smile, but don’t worry, the dandelion has it.” Thich Nhat Hanh

Before Me 

Before me lies my field of happiness
of yellow maned lions drawing down
sun-filled songs of joy capturing my
despair and releasing me.

I stand in my field feeling loved,
grounded and open to all that unfolds,
knowing that these leaves may wilt,
but my love will hold stronger.

I wander my field witnessing hope,
that ancient cycle of blown seeds
travelling the broad plains of history,
holding the past and present in a future.

I sit in this field of smiling suns that
radiate joy in the midst of all that stirs
my heart and wearies my mind,
offering me α wellspring οf peace.


Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

Note: Dandelions are a true herb and have wonderful properties for diet and health, but are also ancient symbols of happiness, love and hope.

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April 6, 2022 · 3:29 pm

Finding – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Sarah is hosting poetics with an invitation to use repetition or anaphora in a poem, using one word from a list of nine verbs, I chose – lose.

dVerse Poets – Poetics – A Little Repetition

Photo: from shponline.co.uk

“Losing an illusion makes you wiser than finding a truth.” Ludwig Borne

Finding

To lose is a paradox like celebrating a death 
of the closely loved.

To lose is never what it seems at first light,
as the day draws long all is reversal.

To lose is the possibility of beginnings
beyond ordinary imagining.

To lose is to find oneself in the thwart of
resist, an overcoming push, or two.

To lose is the discovery of circles and cycles,
a rhythm of parallels.

To lose is to gorge as an aesthete, to sup
without striving.

To lose is an unconventional contentment
of finding.


Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

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March 30, 2022 · 2:43 pm

Questioning The Moral – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Linda at dVerse is hosting Poetics with an invitation to write a poem, choosing one of twelve opening sentences. The sentence I have chosen is sentence 5. “No bondage is worse than the hope of happiness.” Carlos Fuentes ‘Diana the Goddess Who Hunts Alone’ Bloomsbury, 1995.

dVerse Poets – Poetics – Opening Sentences

Photo: jooin.com

“All Limitations are self-imposed.” Oliver Wendell Holmes

Questioning The Moral

No bondage is worse than the hope of happiness,
whether it is an objectified and unworthy idolatry or
found only in the benign passion that undergirds,
according to the Sceptics warding off hedonism.

Whether it is an objectified and unworthy idolatry or
is it of the passive mind, or of the violent blood,
according to the Sceptics warding off hedonism,
that terror too grand for the likes of humanity.

Is it of the passive mind, or of the violent blood,
the deciding line of all broken moral compasses,
that terror too grand for the likes of humanity,
relegating all life to dribble about vice and virtue.

The deciding line of all broken moral compasses,
found only in the benign passion that undergirds,
relegating all life to dribble about vice and virtue,
no bondage is worse than the hope of happiness.


Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®



Note: on this occasion my inspiration is underpinned by the work of the the philosopher David Hume who believed that passions rather than rational though inspired happiness. Hume was known as a logical positivist. The work I reference indirectly in my thoughts is 'Essays Moral, Political, and Literary.'

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March 23, 2022 · 3:51 pm

Chemise Me – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Sarah is hosting poetics with an invitation to write about colour using a provided list from the palette of the Little Green Paint co. follow the link below for more details, the one I chose was Chemise.

dVerse Poets – Poetics – Colour Me Poetry

Photo: found on pinterest.com

“Brevity is the soul of lingerie.” Dorothy Parker

Chemise Me

She wrote with her eyes
and painted with her movements,
short strokes, long strokes,
she sang in low soft silk sighs, 
her wisp of pink sent invitations
like tremors of an earthquake, and
held my breath as bated as she
coloured my world chemise.


copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

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March 9, 2022 · 1:31 pm

This Salty Tango – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Sanaa is hosting poetics with an invitation to combine three Lewis Carroll titles as subject for a poem, and to include the word candy in some form.

dVerse Poets – Poetics – Carrol Crush

Photo: lorilorilo at pixabay.com

“I love to sail forbidden seas, and land on barbarous coasts.” Herman Melville (Moby Dick)

This Salty Tango

A sea dirge leaking through the water,
somber, laden with lays of sorrows,
held in melancholia, carried on the wind,
seeking ears to hear the sorrow of seas,
the tide of conflict never ebbing, ever
washing over us, as we chart candy 
waters in this salty tango across every
crest in a boat beneath a sunny sky,
which sings to us of tomorrows.

Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

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