As the crow flies
or the hawk
that all-consuming
view of the world
noting the slightest
alteration of detail –
how we map our lives
And our relationships
There is in all of us
a natural hunger
for love
for acceptance
for the pleasure
of being with another
or among others
for the sharing
of full-fleshed
feelings and emotions
John Lyons
One voice
And then another
Lifestories told
In their own words
From their own
Individual
Points of view
To know what another
Feels or means
This is a skill indeed
And to be able to express
Clearly what one feels
And what one means
This too is indeed a skill
One life
And then another
When paths cross
Or paths diverge
Or when two travel
Side by side
Bound by love
John Lyons
In this universe
forged from heat
there is frost
on the garden wall
ice where water
has frozen
here and there
in the gutters
and sometimes love
that blows hot and cold
the ebb and flow of passion
of desire too
and silence
not the absence of words
perhaps more than ever
mulled in the mind
a horde of magpies
on the lawn
Napoleon has landed
and the years
that seem to set
their own pace
one two three
and forever counting
the fox has seen me
walking down the alley
and is beating a retreat
snow has fallen
in parts of the country
Yesterday I shivered
and remembered my age
but shrugged it off
and went on my way
what the naked eye sees
what the naked mind
apprehends
One forgets
how many miles
how many words
how much love
makes a life
John Lyons
It’s in our nature
for the mind to turn
constantly
to the body
In the midst of infinities
we breathe the specifics
of our senses
the actual here and now
that the eye catches
the complex simplicities
all around us
all within us
a sparrow’s wing
a rose petal
a face loved
for its eternal smile
Our constitution is founded
on the pursuit of beauty
which in turn is truth
which in turn
is happiness –
sadness only erupts
when beauty is betrayed
by untruths
Intensity is a virtue
so that we deliver
the essence of ourselves
in the purity of our desire
when one body
turns to another
John Lyons
In love life still retains
The pure waters of its infant eyes
Its mouth is still a flower
Which blooms not knowing how
In love life still retains
The grip of a child’s hands
Its feet strike out from the light
And head off towards the light
In love life retains always
A blithe and renascent heart
Nothing can ever end there
Tomorrow allayed by yesterday
Paul Éluard
(translation by John Lyons)
Chanson
Dans l’amour la vie a encore
L’eau pure de ses yeux d’enfant
Sa bouche est encore une fleur
Qui s’ouvre sans savoir comment
Dans l’amour la vie a encore
Ses mains agrippantes d’enfant
Ses pieds partent de la lumière
Et ils s’en vont vers la lumière
Dans l’amour la vie a toujours
Un cœur léger et renaissant
Rien n’y pourra jamais finir
Demain s’y allège d’hier.
What rules the roost here –
large blackbirds and magpies
and at night pipistrelle bats
with a name like that
you’d imagine them
to be musicians
but their song is silence
to our ears at least
and their shadows invisible
on the edge of woodland
or over ponds or streams
they trawl the dark air
so slight with their brown hair
and black wings they barely
tip the scale – but lacewings
mayflies midges and mosquitoes
beware when they’re about
John Lyons
Frail flower of winter
there is a hardy truth
to your solitary beauty
all weathers resisting
a survivor in the midst
of so much decadence
and decay : I salute
your proud courage
surrounded as you are
by the barbed thorn
of blackberry canes
amid dense beds
of nettle that thrive
in this godforsaken scrub
where no licit love
has ever been known
John Lyons
Amid the frost
and the fog
poetry –
a warmth of words
insight into
our aching souls
that long for beauty
for colour
for the touch
of a loving hand
or of lips
and a light
in another’s eyes
that shines
just
for us
John Lyons
When will books read themselves without the aid of readers?
We’ve been through tragic times; floods have drenched our bones, the multiplied blazes of the stars and fires have stripped almost the entire body of its hair. Thunder no longer frightens us, we pry open skulls to release the exquisite crystal and gold spiders whose beauty is ignored by fools. But very cunning is he who was able to see his eye without the aid of a glass, the one who was able to run his eyes over the voluptuous hollow of his neck. We have loved flexible idols who still ignore what charm the arch of their backs can have. Ah! bring on the day when we will smash the mirror, this final window, where our miraculous eyes will be able to contemplate the marvels of the brain.
1924
Translation by John Lyons
Le génie sans miroir
Quand les livres se liront-ils d’eux-mêmes sans le secours de lecteurs.
Nous avons traversé de tragiques périodes; les déluges ont détrempé nos os, les feux multipliés des astres et des incendies ont fait la calvitie sur la presque totalité de notre corps. Le tonnerre ne nous effraie plus, nous ouvrons les crânes pour en faire s’échapper les belles araignées de cristal et d’or dont les sots ignorent la beauté. Mais bien malin celui qui a pu voir son œil sans le secours d’une vitre, celui qui a pu promener son regard sur le creux voluptueux de sa nuque. Nous avons aimé des idoles flexibles qui ignorent toujours quel charme peut avoir la cambrure de leurs reins. Ah ! vienne le jour où nous briserons le miroir, cette dernière fenêtre, où nos yeux miraculeux pourront contempler le merveilleux cérébral.
Blood moon, John Lyons (oil on wood)
Tweel twill tweed—
think of the jacket
I once wore
the rough comfort
of its wool weave
think of herringbone
and a school of fish darting
through clear
coastal waters
the pulse of life
expressed in a single
powerful flex
of the muscle :
that the fish swim
in a grid should come
as no surprise
the distance between them
the same
as the jump length
of their prey
John Lyons
johnjosephlyons 