Easter thoughts

Easter thoughts

All pleasures
all pains
of the heart
celebrate
what is

love in its simplicity
the fourth dimension
to being breath

here for so many years
and never to be taken
for granted

given freely
warmly received
there is no pressure
when it is true
it is what is
in life

it does not pass
with the days
the months
the years
or with death

love is the greatest
of all survivors
it holds faith and hope
in patience
keeps them
close to the heart

no metaphor
could ever do it
justice
it just is what it is

a life
built around love
cannot go wrong

John Lyons

Mere being

Mere being

Is it my body
or my mind
or my soul
or my heart
that loves
you

and

is it in time
or space
in the here
and the now
or does it
extend back and forth
into infinity ?

and if so
what is that ?

did I love you
ever since we were
ions longing to bind
with kindred ions
drifting across the ether
in the afterburn
of creation ?

let there be light
means let there be love
means let there be life
because all things mate
all things cohere
and condense
and reproduce

the palm
at the end
of my arm
with which
I caressed you
the woman
I love

John Lyons

New York vignette, October 1976

staten island ferry

New York vignette, October 1976

I was visiting
           on Staten Island
when Gambino died
           as he watched
the New York Yankees
           his game finally up

Lorraine
           an Italian-American teacher
had a day off school
           to mark his passing

We took the ferry
           past Liberty Island
Stood on deck
           in the bitterly cold wind
Drifted silently
           into Lower Manhattan

Will you stay ?
           she asked
Forever ?
           I replied

John Lyons

True miracle

True miracle

Perhaps darkness
           is the true miracle
in an ever-expanding universe
           full of energy and light
we have the beauty
           of day and of night
of tulips
           that close their petals
when temperatures drop
           We have the pleasure too
of falling asleep
           in a lover’s arms
and of waking to a kiss
           and a brand new day

John Lyons

 

Whoever has a nose

Whoever has a nose

Whoever has a nose
           for the past
let them disinter it
           I have no desire to rake
over fallen leaves
           today is about newness
fresh shoots on every branch
           a universe yearning for renewal
an end to the treacherous cold
           of winter months

seedlings are in the warm ground
           nests are being refurbished
In corners out of sight
           love is being freshly made
populations will swell
           and there will be
bright new flowers
           to celebrate the births

Love does not dwell
           it moves with the times
it accretes
           it musters its energies
it turns timid whispers
           into loud bellows
a proud rampant bull
           scattering the herd

Whoever has a nose for it
           let them loiter in cemeteries
overrun with squirrels and mice
           where piteous acts of passions
have come to sorrowful dust
           I’ll have none of it
not while I retain
           a single living breath

John Lyons

 

while there is flesh

while there is flesh

while there is flesh
on your bones
you owe it to yourself
to make your feelings
clear to those you love
and who love you

while there is breath
in your lungs
and light in your eyes
you owe it to yourself
to live love to the full
and unceasingly

openly and honestly
without prevarication
center yourself on it
nothing else matters

John Lyons

As blood is

As blood is

As blood is
           as blood rises
handsome blood
           ruby red
rich with iron
           fortitude
of the soul
           it irrigates

as blood is
           as love
as winsome smile
           as soft brown hair
wind-blown
           into tear-stained eyes
lips chafed
           under the sun

as blood is
           that bleeds
into the fallow earth
           blood of promise
of covenant
           of marriageable minds
faithful unto death
           blood of my breath
blood of my flesh
           all for the heart
as blood is
           as blood is

John Lyons

The fox and the robin

The fox and the robin

A fox and a robin
           share the same space
in the garden
           the fox dozing on a bench
the robin on the fence
           singing its heart out
they’re living
           in different worlds
just as I am
           on this lovely spring morning
the three of us
           without a care
in our self-contained 
           lives

John Lyons

The curve of your eyes – Paul Éluard

The curve of your eyes

The curve of your eyes winds around my heart,
A round of gentleness and dance,
Halo of time, night cradle and safe,
And if I no longer know all that I’ve lived
It’s that your eyes haven’t always seen me.

Leaves of day and foam of dew,
Reeds of the wind, scented smiles,
Wings shading the world of light,
Boats brimming with sky and sea,
Hunters of noise and sources of colour,

Scents bloomed from a brood of dawns
That still rests on a bed of stars,
As the day depends on innocence
The whole world depends on your pure eyes
And all my blood flows into their gaze.

Paul Éluard (from Capitale de la douleur, 1929)


Translation by John Lyons


La courbe de tes yeux

La courbe de tes yeux fait le tour de mon cœur, 
Un rond de danse et de douceur, 
Auréole du temps, berceau nocturne et sûr, 
Et si je ne sais plus tout ce que j’ai vécu 
C’est que tes yeux ne m’ont pas toujours vu.

Feuilles de jour et mousse de rosée, 
Roseaux du vent, sourires parfumés,
Ailes couvrant le monde de lumière, 
Bateaux chargés du ciel et de la mer, 
Chasseurs des bruits et sources des couleurs,

Parfums éclos d’une couvée d’aurores 
Qui gît toujours sur la paille des astres, 
Comme le jour dépend de l’innocence 
Le monde entier dépend de tes yeux purs 
Et tout mon sang coule dans leurs regards.

Paul Éluard (from Capitale de la douleur, 1929)

Sunday silence

Sunday silence

Overnight
           a heavy frost
unexpected
           though still the birds
woke me
           with their spring song

how strongly their instincts
           are attuned to shifts
in the quality of light
           how anxious they are
to rehearse
           their love calls

Overnight
           you were a thought
in my head
           and I awoke
with memory of you
           obstinate in its occupation
of my mind
           my heart

In the Sunday silence
           I sip coffee
alone for all the world
           and recall the ritual
we shared 
          our calm and loving conversation
over the first coffee
           of the day

John Lyons