Oral pleasures

The pleasure in certain words
           words acquired along the way
or as a child in school
           words that roll off the palate
but leave a delicate aftertaste
           that contain within them
all the ingredients of thought
           and feeling and calm reflection

no millefeuille pastry tastier
           than these little bundles
of compacted sound
           with their tripping vowels
and thunderous consonants
           words such as seldom
so seldom used nowadays
           and yet such a rare delight
on the sensitive tongue
           of a sensitive mind

John Lyons

Let things remain

Let things remain as they are
           is a vain hope since change
is of the essence as is time
           and the seasons of life
through which we move
           as long as there is breath
what I know I cannot unknow
           but I can add to my stock
of knowledge and refine
           my questions as I go
I have outgrown
           the old catechisms
in which I as schooled
           just as one step follows another
in this restless world
           in which all things change

Creation is change
           is newness by increments
in fits and starts
           And though beauty lasts
it evolves into greater depth
           enriched by age and experience
as does love that is firm
           and true

John Lyons

Summertimes

In my mind still
           the tall trees on either side
of the stream and the weir
           over which the waters rushed
and on the bank
           where the stream widened
there were pebbles and small rocks
           that we raised above our heads
and threw with all our might
           into the clear waters
to see who could make
           the greatest splash
It was hard thirsty work
           under the bright sky
and upstream from us
           your father stood in his boots
in the shallows casting flies
           that he had tied himself

Those were the days
           when you taught me to whistle
with two fingers in my mouth
           bending my tongue
also to clasp my hands together
           as though in prayer
and to blow through my thumbs
           into the hollow to make an owl call
The innocent days of childhood
           long gone and you too gone
though there still
           in my heart and mind

John Lyons

The last frontier

The mind
       the uncharted territory
of the conscious unconscious
       that the artist explores
wittingly or not
       the colours
the lines
       the shapes
the textures
       the fluency of the brush
constantly pushing
       for fresh discoveries

John Lyons

Beneath the veneer

Beneath the veneer
       of words
more words
       as we sift our way
through tattered pages
       and posters torn to shreds
the dust of words
       way beyond meaning
words dead to the world
       light years of words
that no longer connect
       words once spoken
by earlier anatomies
       species that have gone
the way of the world
       to ash and to dust
cold bones
       beyond sense

John Lyons