Making peace

Making peace

So comes love
to the table
to negotiate
a peace
a settlement
sign a treaty
of sorts

A location
has been identified
where axes
may be buried
no questions asked
it’s really quite simple
no differences
are too big
that they cannot
be overcome
by lovers

where there’s
a will there’s
either murder
or a way
but our life
is not film noir
nor are we
an entertainment
so let’s stick to what
we know best
let’s make love
as though there
were no tomorrow
because who knows ?

John Lyons

Love’s creation

flow_4

Love’s creation

Love’s creation
an ocean of words
of colour on canvas
of notes on a stave
dance steps
on a sprung floor
all shapes and sizes
and the rain that feeds
all growing things
pearls within an oyster
and a green knight

child of the woods

I grew into my life
fought fears and learnt
to breathe the air freely
my shy feet carried me
overseas and back
but I have always been
where I am and
I am since you
drowning amid
moonstones

I have peered
into your smile
known the danger
and survived
you are a singular
kingdom crowned
with living coral
I am the spirit
that creeps upon you
at night and sleeps
within your breath
my hands and wrists
are tied to your service
there are no corners
in our tomorrow only
our love’s creation

John Lyons


Corrected text

Stars disperse

kirche

Stars disperse 

That snow too
comes from the sun
oxygen and hydrogen
the stuff of life
from the same
building blocks

and stars disperse
and the universe
falls apart

and infinity occurs
in time and time
is itself timeless

imagine tiny pockets of time
encapsulated in balloons
slowly being released
into space

and you and I strolling
through Berlin’s
Weihnachtsmarkt 
an der Gedächtniskirche
eating piping hot bratwurst
as December snow
flurried all around us

even our love that day
the fact that we loved
came from the sun

John Lyons

Autumn ecstasy

Autumn ecstasy

A clear crispy day
          —dry and breezy air full of oxygen
Out of the sane silent beauteous miracles
          that envelop and fuse me
—trees   water   grass   sunlight
          and early frost—
what I’m looking at most today is the sky
          It has that delicate transparent blue
peculiar to autumn and the only clouds
          are little or larger white ones
lending their still and spiritual motion
          to the great concave

Earlier in the day it maintains
          a pure yet vivid blue
but as noon approaches
          the color gets lighter
quite gray for two or three hours
          —then paler still for a spell,
till sun-down—which I observe
          dazzling through the interstices
of a knoll of big trees
          —darts of fire and a gorgeous show
of light-yellow and red with a vast silver glaze
          askant on the water and transparent shadows
and shafts  that sparkle and colors more vivid
          than any painting ever made

I never really saw the skies before
          though of course I’ve seen them all my life
Perhaps in my best moments
          I never jot them down
when they come : I cannot afford
          to break the charm
by indicting memoranda
          I just abandon myself to the mood
and let it float on bearing me up
          in its placid ecstasy

Walt Whitman


From Specimen Days (1882) adapted by John Lyons