Category Archives: Haibun

May 26, 2026 · 9:45 pm

Winning At Death – Haibun by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Frank is hosting the Haibun with an invitation to write with memorial in mind.

dVerse Poets – Haibun – Remembrance

Photo: historic-uk.com

Winning At Death

The water passes by but once, only the granite remains, for now. Much like the scars of history, water will wear its path through the granite over time. I wonder as I watch water’s descent, do either of these two elements remember the other? Are the sticks and leaves, the eddies where grit is deposited, memorials of some sort to the intimacy of scars? 

History flows and leaves its mark as if we had nothing to do with it. Its imperial wars and axial ages of madness flow and flow. It is always Hector and Achilles, someone must always die to appease the petty human gods who dream up devils for us to hate. The pathos of political speak has always paid off for the meat grinder merchants.

As I reflect on the long line of family who served, carried along like leaves and sticks in the current, what is it we are remembering? I simply offer that they lived and served, I am not their judge or prize giver. I desire to weep for them privately. My judgement is for those who bank on our flesh. 

the war to end all
was a private joke on us
such banality

Copyright 2026 ©️Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®️

16 Comments

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April 28, 2026 · 10:19 pm

Learning – Haibun by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Frank is hosting the Haibun with an invitation to write about silence.

dVerse Poets – Haibun – Silence

Photo: Taken at Flat Rock, Augusta, January 2026

Learning

Tide quietly lapping the rock, birds momentarily at rest, no wind worth noting. In this stillness I sit silent, outwardly easy, inwardly not so. No longer hoping the mantra will hold, just rolling with my breath, letting the deep inner self retire just for a second so that nothing is the goal, nothing takes hold. Learning to absorb all the non-verbals of bark and leaf, rock and water, petal and sand. Their example humbles. 

I sit here at Flat Rock becoming tide and resting birds inwardly.

I have nothing I can say or want to say. 

thinking not thinking
nothing here to remember
gladly losing mind

Copyright 2026 ©️Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®️

24 Comments

Filed under Haibun, Haiku, meditation, mindfulness, Silence

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April 21, 2026 · 8:59 pm

Sister Sunshine – Haibun by Paul Vincent Cannon

For Tanka Tuesday Poetry Challenge No. 61, Sisterly Love, Yvette invites us to write a syllabic poem where we focus on sisterly love. Yvette says – I realize that not everyone is blessed to have an amazing sister like I do, so for those of you who do not, broaden your idea of sisterly love. It could mean sisterhood, friendship, or support of all women.

Image by Martine den Engelsen from Pixabay

Sister Sunshine

We share the same madness, rapid repartee, humour sometimes dark, social justice bent, a jaundice for Brady Bunch dreamers, yet a hope in the goodness of human kind. Sis is unstinting in her warmth and care, her concern is for others not least me. Her love is never measured, always unconditional, string free.

She is unselfish giving all of herself to the world. She is forgiving to a fault. She is loved by all, not least myself, and she loves all, and we know it, look forward to it. My world is better for her presence without which dark clouds would stay.

life of the party
healer of all misery
sis brings joyous life




Copyright 2026 ©️Paul Vincent Cannon
All rights Reserved ®️

27 Comments

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April 1, 2026 · 9:51 pm

A Fool Indeed – Haibun by Paul Vincent Cannon

For Tanka Tuesday Poetry Challenge No. 58, Fools Abound, Yvette invites us to write a syllabic poem about types of fools or fun or annoying pranks. 

Image: A 19th Century illustration showing Don Quixote after his fight with a windmill. Found at stablediffusionweb.com


A Fool Indeed

How long is April Fools Day? Just a day? Seems longer to me. Perhaps it’s because there are so many fools to contend with, it seems more than a day. On reflection it seems like it’s been running for a long time. In fact (checks calendar) April Fools day began on January 20, 2025. That’s when history inverted, when the world’s worst jester became pretend king. The pranks have been running non stop for thirteen months with no end in sight. And the pranks are exponentially growing, becoming more bizarre on a grand scale. The jokes are fairly pathetic, he’s ended eight wars that didn’t exist, he received a gift that didn’t exist, he claims a faith that doesn’t exist, a heritage that doesn’t exist. A fool indeed. But there’s a fool who trumps even him, even greater is the one who believes the likes of the fool who would be king. 

Ignobel Quixote
Saves world from his fantasies
Windmills of his mind




Copyright 2026 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

24 Comments

Filed under Haibun, Haiku, poem, politics, satire

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March 31, 2026 · 9:18 pm

Discombobulator’s Ball – Haibun by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Frank is hosting the Haibun with an invitation to write alluding to the Mad March Hare.

dVerse Poets – Haibun – Mad March Hare

Image: pixels.com

Note: if you’re not familiar with Alice’s Adventures In Wonderland you might not make the connection. At the Mad Tea-Party the March Hare offered wine to Alice when he had none and the Dormouse was asked to tell a story which included a treacle well, and Alice concluded that a sole diet of treacle would make one ill!


Discombobulator’s Ball

Well there I was watching the headlines. Have you ever watched a hare come out of a rabbit hole, especially in March? That’s exactly what happened as I watched day after day. I was offered peace, but there was no peace, I was offered hope but there was no hope, I was offered many things but nothing transpired. Just as the hare had no wine for Alice, he had no wine for me. First he was winning bigly while losing badly, then he was defeating Iran when he wasn’t, then he was getting a big present when he didn’t, they were begging him for peace when they weren’t. Beware the Ides, beware the hare, he’s the world’s greatest liar. He wasn’t in the files but he’s on every page, he’s a little in the files while he’s mentioned the most, he never went on the plane when he’s everywhere in the log book, he never knew Jeff but they spoke often. It was as if I were reading One Flew Over The Whitehouse, for sure it was a psych ward, and like Alice, I turned off the headlines, knowing I wouldn’t go back today, after all – it was the stupidest interaction ever and nothing good came of it.

It was the treacle
what made them so very ill
thick sticky deceit

Copyright 2026 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

22 Comments

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March 3, 2026 · 10:13 pm

A Matter Of Glue – Haibun by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Frank is hosting Haibun with an invitation to be inspired by the themes from “Life On Mars” by Tracy K. Smith –

“Tina says what if dark matter is like the space between people

When what holds them together isn’t exactly love, and I think

That sounds right—how strong the pull can be, as if something

That knows better won’t let you drift apart so easily, and how

Small and heavy you feel, stuck there spinning in space.

Tracy K. Smith, “Life on Mars” Graywolf Press, 2011, p. 37

dVerse Poets – Haibun – Life On Mars Tribute

Image: bitrebels.com

A Matter Of Glue

What matters is matter. We don’t know what dark matter actually is but it fills the universe to eighty per cent, apparently it’s the glue that stops planets from whizzing off further into universe. Maybe it stops me flying off to unknown destinations. Like negative space in art works, it helps to shape that which it surrounds, albeit invisibly, understated and mimicking the form. Substance and form working together, well, there’s always a first time.

As a glue I prefer dark matter to be around me. I don’t want the type that resides in the heart, that dark matter which darkens my mind, my view, my mood. That’s a different negative space, one that is of poor substance and shifting form. This is the ego driven shadow, unable to empathise or truly love. It is no glue, it divides the heart and relationships. It doesn’t prevent us spinning off, it accelerates a destructive trajectory. I prefer the dark matter that that is the glue between people.

dark matter unseen
connective glue protects me
as resin in trees

Copyright 2026 ©️Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®️

7 Comments

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February 3, 2026 · 10:23 pm

Grounding – Haibun for Tank Tuesday Poetry Challenge No. 50 by Paul Vincent Cannon

For Tanka Tuesday Poetry Challenge No. 50, To Cleanse, Yvette has invited us to write a poem about cleansing or, atonement. I chose cleansing.

Photo: taken in 2022 in the Wooditjup National Park, the Karri canopy.

Form: Haibun

Grounding

Sometimes an aromatic herbal smudge will be my thing, sometimes an invocation, meditation, there are times when earthy tribal music is my go to, other times I turn to my journal and writing. When my internal seasons are not aligned I feel out of whack, when my soul is in winter I need a thaw, too much summer and I’m running hot, the polarity of passion and melancholy needs a shift.

Lots of rituals and practices at my disposal, but my real cleanse is to go out into the forest and soak up the air, the smells, the colours, the sounds, to just be – to relocate my centre. Being in nature brings me a sense of balance. If I take off my shoes the circuit is complete and  energy courses through me, cleansing, recharging me for life.

humous and dry leaves
soiled feet below canopy
ground of deep inner cleansing

Copyright 2026 ©️Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®️

35 Comments

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February 3, 2026 · 8:45 pm

Being Salt – Haibun by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Frank is hosting Haibun with an invitation to allude to Groundhog Day.

dVerse Poets – Haibun – Groundhog Day Redux

Photo: found on Twitter. ICE on ice, seems to me that both need to go.

Being Salt

When I was all of five my parents encouraged me to clear snow from the driveway for a few pence. Naturally, they were trying to occupy me, and given my age, it was a mammoth task. I had fun, got distracted, messed about. The snow was easy but its cousin was a little more tricky. Ice, once formed, was like steel and so slippery, so I turned it into a slide much to my mother’s consternation. Water will break it down. Salt is still used in many places to help turn it to slurry (though this is an environmental risk).

Around Candlemas or Imbolc people look for signs that a thaw is coming. A variety of methods are used, some more scientific than others. Groundhogs – shadow or no shadow, badgers on the move, certain birds returning. We always looked for the first buds on trees and shrubs with a sense of hope that spring was indeed coming.

Right now I’m not looking to groundhogs or badgers. Maybe salt is the only way. If we as people of the world gather with a view to compassionate action, if we become as salt, the flavour of compassion in our communities, then ICE and its cousins across the West will slowly but surely melt. Right now we need an early spring, and fresh life, vitality, creativity, hope. We all need an end to the evil that is ICE whose winter is symptomatic of the political moral collapse, principally in the US, but also across the world. The buds are showing and I’m optimistic.

buds appearing now
the new spring offers fresh blooms
pig sty cleaned ready

Copyright 2026 ©️Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®️

17 Comments

Filed under Authoritarianism, community, compassion, corruption, Fascism, Haibun, Haiku, justice, politics, protest

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January 7, 2026 · 12:01 am

Cut – Haibun by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Frank is hosting the Haibun with an invitation to write about our experience of an epiphany.

dVerse Poets – Haibun – Epiphany

Image: found at historycooperative.org

Cut

Like Sisyphus I was chained to my goal and constantly pushing uphill. Cost, time and constraints were daunting. Finding the right campus and supervisor problematic. The topic triggering, my study – myself in trauma. One friend questioned the idea. Another asked if writing poetry could be enough for me, why the dogged pursuit of academia? These offerings opened me to a new way of seeing.

After twenty years and a harboured vision, I cut the chain and watched that boulder plunge into the valley beyond view. A great weight fell from my shoulders. Immediately new paths opened before me, and the day seemed brighter, though the grief has been deep. This is one epiphany I’m living into gently and feeling my way.

stone mason struggled
how to make the hard stone speak
finer chisel works

Copyright 2026 ©️Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®️

19 Comments

Filed under Freedom, Haibun, Haiku, identity, life

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November 25, 2025 · 8:40 pm

Tending My Life – Haibun by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Frank is hosting the Haibun with an invitation to write a haibun that references transformation.

dVerse Poets – Haibun – Transformation

Photo: found at smartgreengarden.com

Tending My Life

Feelings rise, emotions evolve and disrupt even in the nicest of ways, but it’s not he moment or the day, it’s my equilibrium even by a thin fleeting slice. It’s all mine, the frogs in the pond might sense my feelings but they don’t necessarily share them, and if the did would I ever know? As I look out the window emotion is walking along the street, driving up the road,, watering the garden, weeding, delivering the mail, heading to school.

It doesn’t necessarily relate solely to anger, though it might, and when any emotion wells up like a spring coming to the surface, they say to split logs, and that may be good (if you have logs) but I find my wholeness in the garden or in my writing. These are places of ponder and reflection. This becomes a time of honest review, a portal to understanding myself, my actions, responses, outcomes. As I circle the spiral of my own story it takes on new avenues of light. These are the moments of the most imperfect transformations, like the caterpillar into a butterfly with one less leg or a frayed right wing. The emotions are accounted for, understood, even transcended, but a trace remains as authentic ground transforming me slowly.

feelings pool deeply 
welling completely through me
slicing spade transforms.

Copyright 2025 ©️Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®️

11 Comments

Filed under awareness, contemplative, Gardening, Haibun, Haiku, hope, life, reflection, writing

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