A ten-word poem
I am
still
dying
to live
the life
I love
John Lyons
Month: Jun 2016
A very short poem indeed
A very short poem indeed
Done !
John Lyons
Say
Say
Say that the hair
is auburn
that the eyes are clear
bright and vivacious
more precious
than any precious stone
Say that the voice
is light and airy
that life
is for living
that there’s no time
like the present
no bird
like the bird in hand
Say that as you sow
so shall you reap
that it’s an ill wind
that blows no good
and believe it down
to your boots
Say that sufficient
unto the day
are the evils thereof
the slings
and flighty arrows
and all the lucky breaks
View time
as your benefactor
and now
as your space
Go seize it
and savour
and say
what you like
John Lyons
A simple question
A simple question
What if all truths
were clearly known
were widely shared
widely appreciated
what if lies and deceit
and self-interest
were so transparent
that nobody would
dare to lie and cheat
nor promote themselves
at the expense of others
what if beauty and goodness
were truly synonyms
and evil the only ugliness
and universally abhorred
what world would that be
and where can it be found ?
John Lyons
Epigram
Epigram
Thinking
of the beauty
of life
of the beauty
of love
poetry
is lost
for words. . .
John Lyons
St James’s Park
St James’s Park
A swan with six cygnets in tow
takes to the water in St James’s Park :
from Duck Island it leads its charges
to the southern shore of the lake
There they waddle onto dry land
and begin to preen their feathers
the young aimlessly rolling in the dirt
their breasts covered in leaf debris
On the northern shore a black swan
lurks solitary and yet unconcerned
Here where camels, crocodiles
and even an elephant once roamed
and illicit couples came to canoodle
a picture post-card tranquillity reigns
and all this beauty just a stone’s throw
from the palace—and who on earth would
ever think of throwing the first stone ?
John Lyons
Time and time again
Time and time again
All that we have
is time
time at our disposal
disposable time
the days of the lily
of the sparrow in the field
are ours to observe
as the river runs
as the sea swells
all is processed
within time
and timeless
is beyond the memory
of our imaginations
When I was a child
time passed as a child
the legacy of those days
far behind me
I may count the steps
from here to eternity
but never reach there
I need space in which
to savour the time
that is left
to linger
in the moment
of her kiss
to quell
the savage latencies
of time if only
for a time
John Lyons
Roses
Roses
Time is a river that runs through the rose
so where one rose falls another rose rises
just as another rose rose where another rose fell
and so time and the river and the rose on it goes
roses are red my love violets so blue
where one sweet red rose fell another rose grew
roses are red my love this you should know
wherever red roses fall others will grow
John Lyons
Our self-made magic
Our self-made magic
Old poets’ idle prattle
words that would wound
the wayward wind
Lives hollowed
by the wearing
of cheap trinkets
all celebrate
in sanctimonious ceremony
the abject anecdote
and view
with sour-eyed disdain
the truth of beauty
So saying
disentangle the nets of being
cut down the webs
of intrigue and deceit
shun scarcity and want
release the ensnared foot
and invoke the majesty
of the magic we make
Throw out the baseless fabrics
of fame and fortune
the trumpery
upon whose nature
nurture can never stick :
from spider learn
the fragility of life’s ladders
and scorn the cankers
that lie
within the body politic
John Lyons
Carnal fate
The poem below is the second fragment from “Goya’s Allegory of Love”, the first instalment of which was posted on 9 June. In turn, it draws on Robert Duncan’s “A Poem Beginning with a Line by Pindar”.
johnjosephlyons 