Year: 2017

Raw material

irlandesuk poetry

Raw material

Last night saw
           through the trapeze
of the skylight
           pitch black
a single star
           unmoved and unmoving

he who searched through
           the shadows of this world
for a palpable soul
           for an angel of wisdom
who might bring him
           enlightenment

it’s what we do
           life into words
clutching at stray sounds
           at images and scents
and sensations
           all that is raw
and rooted in the earth
           black ink through which
the world may shine
           inner and outer

today glorious blue
           light dancing
as it alights
           on the fresh green leaves
the intoxication of sunshine
           all at peace
and full of promise
           my mind full of others’ words
echoes of unknown loves
           and observations

the dusty streets of New York
           the cutting edge of poetry
on the lips of Frank O’Hara
           black cat with a white belly
life in all its richness
           time with all the opportunity
it offers
           purpose cutting a path
through the confusion
           love where it can be trusted
a kiss at no cost
           but a kiss at all costs

John Lyons

Materiale grezzo

irlandesuk poetry , ,

Ecco una versione italiana del poema “Raw material” .

Materiale grezzo

Visto l’ultima volta la notte
           attraverso il trapezio
del lucernario
           nero come la pece
una sola stella
           impassibile e immobile

chi ha cercato attraverso
           le ombre di questo mondo
per un’anima palpabile
           per un angelo di saggezza
che lo potrebbe portare
           illuminismo

è quello che facciamo
           la vita in parole
stringendosi suoni randagi
           a immagini e profumi
e sensazioni
           tutto ciò che è grezzo
e radicato nella terra
           inchiostro nero attraverso il quale
il mondo possa splendere
           interno ed esterno

oggi gloriosa blu
           danza luce
come si posa
           sulle foglie verdi freschi
l’ebbrezza del sole
           tutto in pace
e pieno di promesse
           la mia mente piena di parole altrui
echi di amori sconosciuti
           e le osservazioni

le strade polverose di New York
           la punta di diamante della poesia
sulle labbra di Frank O’Hara
           gatto nero con la pancia bianca
la vita in tutta la sua ricchezza
           tempo con tutte le possibilità
offre
           scopo il taglio di un percorso
attraverso la confusione
           amore dove si può fidare
un bacio a costo zero
            ma un bacio a tutti i costi

John Lyons

Spring

irlandesuk poetry

Spring

Yes spring is here
           finally you may say
a daffodil in every garden
           crocuses on every lawn
and every city bird
           will be nursing
laryngitis tonight

And with spring
           fresh hope
for another year
           wiping clean the slate
past failures consigned
           to the bin

and who knows
           where love will lead us
or where we will lead
           our love

John Lyons

Observations

irlandesuk poetry

Observations

The shadow of this world
           felt and lived
by the palpable soul
           by the other me
that lies deep within

vocal with speech
           the energies of action
and the energies of thought
           experience transformed
into eloquence and wisdom
           at least that is the desire
all fear dissipated
           fear of being oneself

life moments culled from the air
           by the angel of wisdom
thoughts of the mind
           raised and transfigured
truth incorruptible
           the ebb and flow of the sea
desire and satisfaction
           day and night
all nature in undulation
           from mulberry leaf
to the finest silk

thought is function
           character above intellect
to observe the demands
           of our task
to catalogue the stars
           of the human mind

John Lyons

The last throes of winter

irlandesuk poetry ,

The last throes of winter

The wind is back with a vengeance
           just when we thought it safe
to say that the winter was over
           the wind is rattling wooden fences
the tree branches with their fresh
           green leaves are thrashing violently
and the birds are totally confused
           not sure what melodies to sing

or whether to sing at all :
           it’s really quite an agitated world
the sort that disturbs dogs
           that may prefer to sleep it out
in their baskets or go for a long
           romp on the heath chasing sticks or
whatever curve ball they are thrown
            On Thursday I saw a fox moving

in the undergrowth outside Lewisham
           its bright coat barely visible
but I could tell that it had had
           a good winter and was in good shape
for the coming summer months
           it is their world after all as much
as it is ours so nothing to begrudge
           and foxes are so true to type

they know nothing of betrayal
           nothing of deceit being as honest
as the day is long and they are such
           shrewd observers of human behaviour
they know their place and they know exactly 
           when to come and when to go

John Lyons

Triplets

irlandesuk poetry ,

Triplets

what is more beautiful
than the night
and to lie in your arms

because you are beautiful
you have broken
perfection’s heart

here where the air is clear
the moon low and the sun flat
nothing can go wrong

so as to honour your beauty
roses will soon bloom and
hives will be filled with honey

grapes will be gathered
and pressed into wine
to toast your beauty

in the deep dark night
in awe of your beauty
stars may go astray

and poets could lose their minds
as they struggle to contain 
your beauty within their lines

what is more beautiful
than the day when I may
lie in your arms again

John Lyons

A note of admiration

irlandesuk poetry

A note of admiration

How quickly a beautiful thing
           becomes real
I mean like a painting
           or a poem or a piece of music
something fresh and exciting
           brought into the world
by a creative mind
           through the powers
of the imagination

sensibility and sensitivity
           part of our DNA
and we crave beauty
           and the intensity
of the pleasures that it brings 
           to the senses

and how a person too
           enters our world
is slowly stripped
           of the strangeness
of strangers and becomes
           a reality in our lives
someone indispensable
           someone we love
above all others
           and an attachment
is formed
           built on the power
of words exchanged and upon
           unwavering trust

John Lyons

The mating game

irlandesuk poetry , ,

The mating game

How many days does it take
           I mean really take
to make a year
           and how many years
add up to a life
           and what’s a life ?

words are cheap
           words words words
two pigeons on the window ledge
           cooing dating mating
it’s a black and white world
           which is why they are grey

he says—
            no why don’t we do
what we said
           we were going to do
while Miss Universe says
           but I can change my mind

meanwhile the grass is getting greener
           everywhere daffodils are sprouting
and the first bees of the season
           are out on patrol :
it must be spring
           so the syrupy sap rises
and a young man’s thoughts
           turn to love

John Lyons

None of your business

irlandesuk poetry

None of your business

Yes these days do occur
           blue skies and sunshine all the way
and me feeling good
           about life as we head
into spring and all the promise
           that summer days will bring

if you could peer beneath my skin
           you’d see that I’m full of hope
perhaps naively so but full
           nevertheless and for a change
I expect things to go my way
           that all the chaotic 
bits and pieces of my life 
           will finally fall into place

The dawn chorus
           is currently in full throttle
as I write these words
           and I think of the timeless
pleasures of pen and ink
           the technologies of composition
and the need to express :
           there is a kind of certainty
in birdsong and in all sorts
           of instinctive behaviour
and today I too feel certain
           about my feelings
about my hopes and fears
           for the future and how totally
I am at peace with my past
           If you were to ask me
am I in love I would say
           that’s none of your business
but I know how I feel
           and I hope you do too

John Lyons

Conundrum

irlandesuk poetry ,

Conundrum

The thought occurs to me :
           would a bird want to be
a butterfly or vice versa ?
            How attractive
are the featherless
           paper-thin wings
how appealing
           the more robust plumage
: each to his own
           I suppose

Wallace Stevens was
           obsessed with numbers
John Ashbery can be
           a little snooty about some
of Frank O’Hara’s poetry
           but Frank’s verse
is so full of friends
           it’s like a party on a page
and Ashbery’s pales
           in comparison

Today the rain has returned
           and I observe
the drizzle’s delicate lament
           for lost time
for the sad poetry of our being
           for the exuberance of our love
lately so neglected
           and for so much
of our lives
           gone to waste

John Lyons