Month: Jun 2017

Chain of thought

irlandesuk poetry

Chain of thought

Life is chain and resurrection
           variation within the repetitions
the roses are as red as ever
           and so too are the lovers’ lips
but we are all of traceable origin
           we all go back in time
our genes chosen
           from a common pool
our hopes and dreams too
           that are dictated
by the soft anatomies
           of the heart

So this day may blow over
           but another will follow
and waves will crash
           on the fine sand of a beach
we knew in our youth but which
           we may never revisit— who knows
and all the kisses we never gave
           may one day be given
and the beauty of it is that
           the truth may finally be told

John Lyons

Summer sketch

irlandesuk poetry

Summer sketch

Rain drips through 
            our summer days
and at night
           the fine arts
of the stars
           are banished

Wake to grey clouds
           a cool westerly
and the silence of birds
           rose petals
in the garden
           dripping wet

John Lyons

Simple

irlandesuk poetry

Simple

Informality of the heart
what we call love
that abides by no rules
that does nothing
but simply is

almost instinctual
self-evident
bolder and yet simpler
than the rose
which is given
in token

if there is beauty
in language
it’s because words
are in love
with words

John Lyons

Day

irlandesuk poetry

Day

Under the bending dome of day
           the gentle movement of leaf and flower
morning awaking to birdsong
           and silence and to the play of sunlight
everywhere the thrust of life
           and nature at peace with itself

a fox struts along the top
           of the perimeter wall its eyes
tracking the flight of a small bird
           a dog barks but the fox pays no heed
it sips from an ornamental basin
           and slopes off into the rest of its life

John Lyons

Poetry

irlandesuk poetry

Poetry

The sweetness
           of language
that celebrates
           the sweetness
of life

hymn ode or epic
           poetry is verbal
constellation
           the bloodflow
of language

a newborn child
           pressed to its
mother’s chest
           carried with pride
through the vibrant
           streets

boy or girl
           the eyes yet to focus
born into words of love
           born into the love
of words

poetry that rises
           above the prosaic
is revelation
           of truth and beauty
is fresh anthem
           of the beating heart

John Lyons

Mindfulness

irlandesuk poetry

Mindfulness

Be mindful of love
           so that you may see
in the day as well
           as in the dark

sight and sound
           may be a distraction
so that you may not
           see or hear
all that you
           necessarily should

how long does it take
           to appreciate a rose
without dismissing it
           in seconds as a gorgeous
stereotype
           how long to see it
in all its glory
           in the simplicity
and freshness
           of its beauty

and remember
           that time takes time
and that these days
           will never come again
nor this rose
           and unless you
care for it well
           nor this love

John Lyons

Electioneering

irlandesuk poetry

Electioneering

At the end of the garden
           there’s a small patio
where at night
           the foxes gather
in the shade
           of the green shed
to chew over
           the affairs of state

This morning
           in the early hours
I was woken
           by the commotion
of their shrill voices
           engaged in a debate
more strident than I had
           ever heard before

To be or not to be
           that was the question
whether it was nobler in the mind
           to run and hide
or to vote the present
           government into the dust

John Lyons