Tag Archives: Villanelle

Our Dreams Swallowed – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: found at in-cyprus.philenews.com

“When buying and selling are controlled by legislators, the first things to be bought and sold are legislators.” P.J. O’Rourke

Our Dreams Swallowed

We were born to rove but the days are rough,
innocence was wasted along the roads of youth,
our dreams swallowed in political sloth.

I never thought we'd ever do life so tough,
scammed, spammed, and damned of truth,
we were born to rove but the days are rough.

Hear the piggies wallowing in their trough,
nothing we can say will delay the proof,
our dreams swallowed in political sloth.

I simply wish we could push through and bluff,
but that would bring us to the gutter uncouth,
we were born to rove but the days are rough.

My anger boils in ever righteous wrath
at this maddening destructive spoof,
our dreams swallowed in political sloth.

So transparent their evil cut of cloth,
how have these villains missed the noose,
we were born to rove but the days are rough,
our dreams swallowed in political sloth.


Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®️

18 Comments

Filed under awareness, Economics, injustice, life, poem, politics, quote, Villanelle

Hoping It’s Not A Grind – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Mish is hosting Open Link Night – an invitation to post a poem of our own choice.

dVerse Poets – Open Link Night

Photo: fodors.com – one of the fascinating traditions from the past – tossing furniture, Naples, Italy.

“For last year’s words belong to last years language ….” T.S. Eliot (Four Quartets)

Hoping It's Not A Grind

Some parts of 21 I'm glad to leave behind
hidden in a trunk without reflection,
all my feelings astir, some days were a grind.

I packed in all the adventures I could find,
turning and turning for a new direction,
some parts of 21 I'm glad to leave behind.

Some parts of mundane I didn't mind,
I just don't pursue an energy of perfection,
all my feelings astir, some days were a grind.

I loved the many times of joyful unwind,
sidestepping all the cracks of infection,
some parts of 21 I'm glad to leave behind.

It's the loss of kindness that I've pined,
ever steering round the bollards of reaction,
all my feelings astir, some days were a grind.

I'm hoping 22 might be more kindly lined,
with gratitude I would just take a fraction,
some parts of 21 I'm glad to leave behind,
all my feelings astir, some days were a grind.


Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

51 Comments

Filed under life, poem, quote, Villanelle

Will We? – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: thecourier.co.uk LONDON, DECEMBER 21: Environmental protesters of Extinction Rebellion group take part in a demonstration outside BBCs headquarters in London.

“The earth is not dying, it is being killed, and those who are killing it have names and addresses.” Utah Phillips

Will We?

Are we living in denial of our roots in the natural world,
what game of double dare are we playing so late,
willow risk taking a step to awakening and be unfurled?

Could we possibly make a stand above the divisions twirled,
and let go the ancient castes of expected eager fixation,
are we living in denial of our roots in the natural world?

How will we deal with all that heated invective hurled,
so shamefaced that we are easily silenced to inaction,
will we risk taking a step to awakening and be unfurled?

As we face the furnace of resistance in which we are knurled,
what chance that we will stand on the ramparts urgent,
are we living in denial of our roots in the natural world?

Will nature hear us shout justice and not just mutter purled,
surely we have nothing left to lose at this late hour,
will we risk taking a step to awakening and be unfurled?

Why are we so reluctant and seeking to be safe and curled,
times are desperate so what have we got to lose but gain,
are we living in denial of our roots in the natural world,
will we risk taking a step to awakening and be unfurled?

©Paul Vincent Cannon

23 Comments

Filed under environment, justice, life, mindfulness, nature, poem, quote, Villanelle