Year: 2017

Anticipations

irlandesuk poetry

Anticipations

The grace that comes from knowing
       that gift of consciousness
that places us at the very centre
       of the imagined universe
that inner voice that guides
       and informs us
that is aware
       of all our yesterdays
and yet so eagerly
       anticipates each tomorrow

The grace that comes
       from feeling
that builds an intimate
       world of sense
of enriched experience
       and of all the emotions
that are ours
       to have and to hold

John Lyons

Impromptu

irlandesuk poetry

Impromptu

Pure beauty
unfiltered
by words
by thought
by art
beauty as
sole purpose
as open orchid
flower
or lily bent
on enticement

or murmur
of the night sea
on the shore
pins of light
on the horizon
from gently
bobbing boats
trawling the ocean’s
the endless time
and space

John Lyons

 

A test of poetry

irlandesuk poetry

A test of poetry

What have I
       in my breath
captured ?
       The stillness
of the moment
       the soundlessness
of a mind subdued
       of words lying
at rest at ease
       almost

In my breath
       a single syllable
: rose
       neither water
nor petal nor thorn
       nor stem

No flowering
       of the flower
simply
       a rose
with its gaunt
       silhouette bound
by the atomic energy
       subdued within

The word will outlive the petals
       that soon enough will
curl crisp and burn
       in the oxidizing air
dust is its destiny
       the fate we all share

but for the moment
       its perfect form captivates
its opiate beauty enthralls
       its fragrance entrances
and it is all
       it needs to be

John Lyons

Rose

irlandesuk poetry

Rose

Stillness
       of the mind
subdued
       the cult
of energy
       a rose
contemplated
       in all its glory
given the attention
       it deserves
the gift of time
       its beauty admired
leisurely
       each gentle fold
of each petal
       lovingly explored
the fragrant
       silence

John Lyons

 

Two hawks

irlandesuk poetry

Two hawks

Woven words
particles of sense
two hawks in flight
hovering over
the marshland

cold clear blue sky
the acuteness
of their vision
mapping the ground
beneath them

the hunting instinct
destined to make
their own way in life
ageless timeless creatures
of great beauty
killers nevertheless

John Lyons

Uncle Matt

irlandesuk poetry ,

Uncle Matt

My father’s uncle Matt
           a quiet gentle man
who enjoyed a pint
           and would dress
for the occasion
           in his Sunday best

I remember
           his black leather boots
placed neatly
           at the side of the bed
and how quietly
           he slept

He was from Arklow
           and was often a lodger
but I never knew
           what he did nor did I ask
and so light on his feet
           he’d come and go like a ghost
and his brogue so soft
           you’d hardly hear
a single word :
           that’s all I can say

John Lyons

Camille Pissarro

irlandesuk poetry ,
Pissarro
Camille Pissarro – Street in Upper Norwood

Camille Pissarro

Tiny brushstrokes
           tiny blobs of paint
not a person
           not a horse
nor a dog
           but the idea
of that thing
           suggested in oils

no single detail making any sense
            on its own
but taken as a whole
           instantly recognisible
genius on the end
           of a sable brush
coloured pigments
           mixed with linseed oil
applied on canvas
           breathing eternal life
into the inhabitants
           of Upper Norwood

John Lyons

 

Notes towards . . .

irlandesuk poetry

Notes towards . . .

In the uncertain light
       some certainties
the passage of time
       the coming and going
of the seasons
       youth followed hopefully
by the wisdom of age
       and a little less ignorance
hell receding as the heavens
       come a little closer
less fear of fear
       and life refreshed
in the commerce
       of words and the truth
of poetry and belief
       in the purity of love

John Lyons

Blessing

irlandesuk poetry

Blessing

Those personal truths
the ones we hold

dear to our heart
and the knowledge

that grows
through our intimacy

traits I’ve noticed
in you and you in me

your sweet tooth
and your love of dance

my stubborn mind
and your endlessly

forgiving nature
I feel truly blessed

John Lyons