The world
a single seed bed
a single grave
nothing is lost
nobody escapes
all is cycle
love and grief
all is process
all is time
within time
carbon never dies
deciduous
coniferous life
beauty lies
in the combination
of detail
and in the complex
simplicities
of atomic truth
John Lyons
How one thing
leads to another
a sequence
a chain of events
bound by conjunction
the loose links
that hold it all together
the turbulence
of the spoken word
from me to you
or you to me
so that a bridge
is a relationship
it delivers a message
a path of conveyance
an enabler and a solution
the removal of an obstacle
a static craft that ferries
the living crowd
I had not thought
that the earth contained
so many. . .
and poetry
the impalpable substance
ideas and sentiments
for generations to come
others will watch
the run of the floodtide
but Walt’s text is there
for all time
a bridge between
now and then
others will see Ellis Island
or the Staten Island ferry
creeping into Gotham City
at night under a winter sky
flakes falling
into the depths below
as you cross
from shore to shore
the current rushing
loose and swollen
by recent rains
the white snow
and the white gulls
their bodies oscillating
in the bitter wind
one word after another
life love sight sound
time for all time
and in the distance
the march of money
that rises skywards
that conquers the air
the swells
in the swollen vaults
that lies sleepless in its bed
gone the white sails
of schooners and sloops
money into steel and glass
and the East River
in its ebb-tide
falling back to the sea
I too am with you
and know how it is
the view of and on
and from and beyond
the bridge
John Lyons
The catenary curves
that bind us together
the cables or chains
firmly fixed
at both ends
but which
hang loose :
not a parabola
but more akin
to the graph of
a hyperbolic cosine
a relationship
that permits
freedom of movement
that can bear
considerable weight
yet never loses
its strength
Concatenations
of the heart
day after day
tomorrow
and tomorrow
and tomorrow
creeps on
this petty pace
John Lyons
This is the last picture show
the sense that nothing
will ever be the same
because nothing
ever is the same
Walking down Main Street
at high noon
a saloon brawl between
two hoodlums is celebrated
with a public shootout
violence has become
an entertainment
death simply a denouement
Heat and dust in the nostrils
Here we discover
that we are history
the implements of our childhood
there on exhibition
This is a town where
clockwork really works
ritual delivered
with a broad smile
You woudn’t need to be mad
to live there
but it would help
Heard about the place
in Dallas Forth Worth
on the grapevine
John Lyons
Love that is sleepless
that spans the space
between one body
and another
harp and altar
ambitions and lives
held in suspension
a crossing of paths
a folding in of destinies
time’s exploration
of human frailty
and the gift of true
communication
back and forth
to and fro
the sun-cusped days
and the winter nights
two sides to a single
location : desire
is always on
a distant shore
the sweat streaming
down their foreheads
on they walked
stray angels
loosed into
Lower Manhattan
There is a time
and a place
for everything :
their bodies cut shapes
from the shadows
wind merges into wave
night into day
poetry and love and creation
as ever unfinished
John Lyons
Dance of ethereal light
on the sheer waters
the shimmering sequins
of her dress
her high black heels
and energy stirring
within her limbs
Iambic Copacabana samba
Feet measured in breaths
poetry that walks the talk
Dance has no beginning
It has no end : is one in itself
We live in a universe of dance
from the sun in waves
Movement scaled over time
and a heart that dances
steps out into the darkness
across the face of the earth
The sea rhythms pounding
on the shore : pulse of eternity
Where is love ? Where are
hope and charity if not here?
Speak of beauty that is
deeper than skin
of the sensuous sway of her body
of the elegance and grace of her feet
of the undying dance that may
one day unfold upon the Elysian fields
John Lyons
All that is certain
Beyond dispute
The petals in full flush
The gentle fold of her lips
The skin smooth
And soft to the touch
A certain light in the eyes
That never fades
Age imperceptible
The smile ever present
The promise of laughter
Of a kiss
Of a warm embrace
All that is beyond doubt
True for all time
At every pulse and inspiration
What renders the flesh immortal
Nothing nameless or pointless
Love
John Lyons
Blue fading
Frigate birds ride above the waves
Their wide wings barely stretched
Silver light on the crests
The promise of darkness
Of rest and sleep
Innocence restored
The day’s divisions in retreat
As night levels all
The huddle of community
Differences buried
Silhouette of the mountains
Geological time ever present
Ever a reminder
That life is unfinished
John Lyons
Sun
Sand
Sea
Sport
Everything is made of earth
the earth we walk upon
the rich mineral earth
that rises up within our bones
the sun-fed earth
provider of our daily bread
the animal vegetable living earth
source of the air we breathe
and of the water that runs
through our veins
and upon which every cell depends
Everything is made of earth
every whisper every word of love
every gesture every birth
and every death too
of the earth
to which we will all
– in good time – return
John Lyons
johnjosephlyons 