Tag Archives: Poetics

Refuses To Limit – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Merril is hosting Poetics with an invitation to write about connection.

dVerse Poets – Poetics – Connections

Image: found on huffingtonpost.co.uk

“Communication leads to community, that is, to understanding, intimacy and mutual valuing.” Rollo May

Refuses To Limit

How to frame a conversation that
refuses to limit either of us to the
darkest corners of our words that
run past our meaning, that will not
rest in painful constrictions of 
small words, or weighted by some 
abstraction, smothers the possibility
of speaking without words, to 
silently hold the other in their eyes,
to search the crowd and weep with 
their faces, rejoice with them, feel 
their deepest selves, to understand
the breath we take together in all
its fragility, to simply know.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

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Filed under Free Verse, life, Literature, poem, quote

A Spade Is More Than Itself – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Mist is hosting Poetics with an invitation to write a poem describing an object.

dVerse Poets – Poetics – Object Poems

Photo: harpersnurseries.com

“All my hurts my garden spade can heal.” Ralph Waldo Emerson

A Spade Is More Than Itself

This is a story maker,
a dream builder of futures,
of kingdoms and complex lives,
weeding out the inconsistent
lines of irrelevance and tedium;
this is a creator of new things like 
turning over one's life and 
planting seeds of posterity,
to be remembered  among the 
vines of hope distilled as love;
this is my father, my family, my
friends, my neighbours and
with each thrust a memory
comes and grows.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

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Filed under Free Verse, Gardening, life, love, poem, quote

For What? – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Sarah is hosting Poetics with an invitation to share a poem that has called to us, affected us in some way, positively or otherwise, and to write a poem in response. dVerse Poets – Poetics – A Conversation

Photo: Ben Kerckx, pixabay.com

I have chosen Wilfred Owen’s poem ‘Anthem For Doomed Youth’ and riffed on that a little. I despise war and I see it as a failure of humanity to sit down together. Wilfred Owen fought in the British army in WW1 and died at the age of 25 in 1918 one week before war’s end. For a detailed biography see The Wilfred Owen Association

Anthem For Doomed Youth     by Wilfred Owen

What passing-bells for these who die as cattle?
- only monstrous anger of the guns.
Only the stuttering rifles' rapid rattle
Can patter out their hasty orisons.
No mockeries now for them; no prayers nor bells;
Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs, -
The shrill, demented choirs of wailing shells;
And bugles calling for them from sad shires.

What candles may be held to speed them all?
Not in the hands of boys, but in their eyes
Shall shine the holy glimmers of goodbyes.
The pallor of girls' brows shall be their pall;
Their flowers the tenderness of patient minds,
And each slow dusk a drawing-down of blinds.

“Men make war to get attention. All killing is an expression of self-hate.” Alice Walker

For What?

Passion flowered blue in the fields of sheets
set for their love of each other and,
soon enough, their fruit was ripe for picking,
the suckling ripped from breast to trench,
unprotected by the hollow words of those
faceless ones who send anyone but themselves,
valorised by suited cowards and coercive saints,
left alone in mud, and cold, diseased;
grief flowered red in the fields of France,
as life bled out for the shame of piety
voiced in cathedrals of death.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

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Filed under death, Free Verse, grief, history, life, poem, quote, war

The Gargoyles – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Sanaa is hosting poetics with an invitation to write a Gothic poem.

dVerse Poets – Poetics – Exploring Gothic as a Literary Genre

Photo: Found at pixel77.com

“I was made to rule the darkness.” Rae Hachton

The Gargoyles 

Near the witching hour
the Bell & Candle spewed life into the
streets of thick winters night,
she, he, arm in arm, dared the other,
a walk along darkling stream's thickets
to cold cathedral cemetery where
death's sting rang off the stone in
heavy mortal silence, stilling all but
leaping imaginations of shadows,
she, he, stole kisses in mocking  laughter 
beneath the angry walls of judgement,
she, he, succumbed to the ancient spell
of heated congress as above them
narrow eyed gargoyles leered near,
she, he, stumbled onwards home,
she looking back to footfalls sounding,
he hearing nothing, blithely, blindly,
fell behind as she hastened to her bed,
while ever the footfalls pounding,
her heart pulsing, stretched naked.
In the morning she stroked his 
impassive face looking for life, 
where in that one glorious hour,
stone had enfleshed its leering lust.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

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Filed under erotic, Free Verse, Gothic, passion, poem, quote

An Adventus – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Laura has invited us to choose from eight lines taken from mystic poets and use the line in a poem, perhaps even a form of octave. dVerse Poets – Poetics – Stepping off the Sidewalk

I have chosen the line: “Coming, going, the waterbirds don’t leave a trace.” Dogen who lived in Kyoto in 13th century Japan, and who became a Buddhist monk who was also a writer, poet, philosopher and the founder of Soto Zen.

Photo: Bunbury wetlands, two black swans passing by.

“The lack of mystery in our modern life is our downfall and our poverty.” Dietrich Bonhoeffer

An Adventus

Dappled ripples processed the roughed vestibule of my heart,
an adventitious solace arising in its perpetuated simplicity,
I traced a map in the parchment of my mind of 
all the comings and goings of sentient beings,
an adventus, unsurprisingly surprising, my breath was
captured by the wind of time and carried along for a span and,
knowing that, coming, going, the waterbirds don't leave a trace,
these quiet feathered gods, ever mercurial, are messengers of hope.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

45 Comments

Filed under awareness, bush walking, Free Verse, life, nature, Octave, poem, quote

Travelling In The Wilderness – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse, Sarah is hosting Poetics and has asked us to choose one of her selected titles for a poem.

dVerse Poets – Poetics – Travels in the Wild

Photo: Eyre Highway, a side trail.

“The wilderness holds answers to more questions than we have yet learned to ask.” Nancy Newhall

Travelling In The Wilderness 

I transcended my compass,
feeling my way through the travail
of twixt and twain, learning not to 
hold my breath as the trail became
uncertain of itself as it meandered 
through the scenes and acts of my
stage as a collect of vagaries, testimony
to an amorphous life melded with 
lace wings and stringy-bark, and all
manner of slivery, silent coves as
irruption of mind in a mindless world
of discontinued annals, such is the way
of this wilderness road of discovery.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

33 Comments

Filed under awareness, bush walking, Free Verse, life, poem, quote, Uncategorized

Held – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Mish is hosting Poetics and has invited us to write about eyes.

dVerse Poets – Poetics – Look Into My Eyes

Photo: pexels.com

“Tears are the silent language of grief.” Voltaire

Held

I offered a word of unction as
soothe in the hard litany of life's
steal of breath that you held in
that moment of discordant caverns
and clawed violins as the world 
slipped over its own edge,
and your eyes declared a pulsing
reach of heart that awakened
in a welling of bearing held
between us in a knowing,
sharing, through solitary to a
lifting connect, diminishing the
awful theft of happiness, 
a restorative without need of 
voice, just deep eye-felt
conversation.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

22 Comments

Filed under awareness, Free Verse, grief, life, love, poem, quote

Just Let Her Speak – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Peter is hosting Poetics and has invited us write a poem as witness (to a news event or an event).

dVerse Poets – Poetics – Poetry as Witness

Photo: Luke Stephenson, ABC News – Australian PM Scott Morrison interrupts Senator Anne Ruston who was asked about the culture of misogyny in the Australian Parliament, therefore ironically proving the point. The PM has long been questioned about his attitude to women. The question was set against the background of a public outing of government ministers who have had relationships (affairs) with their staffers (therefore a power relationship).

“Misogyny is hostility toward the women who threaten to remove the male status as superior to women.” Jill A. Stoddard

Just Let Her Speak

She appeared dressed for the microphone,
I even saw her lips move in pantomime,
but you voiced her down,
wrapping her in shrouds of misogyny,
swaddled her in your patriarchal goitre,
and gave your words to her lips
as you pigeon-chested the throng
with your smirk faced denouement,
a coda of lament for the poor boys
whose groins yearned for possession
of skirted public property,
how could you possibly listen
let alone reflect,
you members of parliament erect,
she appeared dressed for the microphone,
just let her speak.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

Note: Misogyny:  from the Greek misein (μισειν) hate + gyne (γυνε) woman.

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Filed under awareness, Free Verse, identity, injustice, life, poem, quote

Emerging – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Sanaa is hosting Poetics with an invitation to write about November, which in the north is Autumn while in the south is Spring.

dVerse Poets – Poetics

Photo: ‘Southbourne’ farm, Bakers Hill, the drive to the shearing shed.

“Can words describe the fragrance of the very breath of spring?” Neltje Blanchan

Emerging

Velvet cinnamon nights,
swirl-tongued around feelings
twined with gilt laden stubble
in halo vested fields where
warmth seeps into my bones,
restoring the ravages of winter's
scars once again, nested with 
feathered joy and such vaulted
awakening as if chrysalis like,
taking first breaths in a new
scape novembered almost, 
but not quite as before,
emerging adventitiously 
as no other.


©Paul Vincent Cannon

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Filed under awareness, bush walking, Country, Farm, Free Verse, life, nature, poem, quote

Out Of Tilt – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Lisa is hosting Poetics with an invitation to use the word folly. dVerse Poets – Poetics – Folly

Photo: petapixels.com

“When life itself seems lunatic, who knows where madness lies?” (Cervantes) Don Quixote

Out Of Tilt

His mind ran away to the theatre,
building castles of straw,
a distress of damsels in every scene,
he had that quixotic bent,
always out of tilt in the real,
lunging babble-mouthed in a 
folly of mealy jousts unrequited,
she always smiled as she evaporated.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

32 Comments

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