Year: 2021

Year ending

irlandesuk poetry

That perfect stillness
that silence broken
only by the occasional
plaintiff note of birdsong
the sky grey
the trees on the horizon
in various stages of undress
some leaves turned to gold
others to copper
still others to a green
drained of all life
pollen has been replaced
by dry dust and grime
I hear the drone
of a jet plane lost
in the dense cloud cover

When a heart is broken
it continues to beat
for a while before it dies
when the year is ending
there is always hope
that the next one will be
better in every respect

John Lyons

Falling out

irlandesuk poetry ,

Black winter sky
       filled with stars
signature
       of the urban universe
and life-long focus
       of our gaze
all we ever wished for
       from cradle to grave

I am an anthology
       of hopes and dreams
I am a timeline
       noted all the times
that I have loved
       noted all the times
that I have lost
       and still the stars
lurking in the cool skies
       and I carry
my transparent self
       from day to day through
this imponderable world
       and bring flowers
when appropriate
       warm roses and daffodils
whenever love is in season –
       a gondola on the Grand Canal
the ride we never took
       together at least

Memories of darkness
       and light as the Carnival
exploded before our eyes
       You were one of the most
beautiful things in the world
       and you put Renaissance art
to shame with your smile
       and yet your heart
did not bear scrutiny
       and being tentatively in love
you slipped and stumbled
       out of it again

John Lyons

Paul Éluard – Clouds in my hands

irlandesuk art, poésie, poetry ,

Man Ray

This confused despair
Impalpable source rainy night
Far from burgeoning leaves
Far from salubrious tears
This disdain of the Orient
This livid paradise
This backtracking
Exhausted unbeliever
Towards a handful of memories

The miracle cure accords gift trust.

From Les mains libres (1937), drawings by Man Ray

Des nuages dans les mains
Ce désespoir confus
Source impalpable nuit de pluie
Loin des feuilles naissantes
Loin des larmes salubres
Ce dédain de l’orient
Ce paradis livide
Cette marche en arrière
Incrédule exténuée
Vers quelques souvenirs

Le remède miracle accord cadeau confiance.

Heron

irlandesuk poetry

A black-crested
       long-necked
long-legged
       freshwater heron
perched on a suburban
       rooftop

motionless
       but for its eyes
it surveys the horizon
       unmoved by all it sees

blackbirds and pigeons
       and sparrows and magpies
crowd the empty air space
       but the heron scarcely blinks

One wonders what
       is on its mind
and how far it is
       from home and whether
herons indeed
       do ever get lost

John Lyons

A love song

irlandesuk poetry

In the thousand small places
       of myself and of my name
in the growth of passions
       of interests and abilities
of successes and failures
       in all the one-by-one days

and the one-by-one nights
       when flowers bloomed
and before those flowers faded
       in every moment of intimacy
and despite the solitary pain
       of unfolding distance

in every meadow crossed
       and upon every river sailed
at every waking hour
       whether observed or deep
into my dreams I have
       heard you in the song

of sparrows and finches
       and held you in my heart
and will do so for however
       many months and years
remain knowing that in love
       all things are for the best

John Lyons

An idle world

irlandesuk poetry

The first heavy frost
of the season
windows and roofs
and ponds all iced up

I notice the silence
of the birds
the stillness
in the garden –

the cats must be
having a lie in
the plump foxes
are nowhere

to be seen
Sometimes it’s
an idle world and
that’s a good thing

John Lyons

Times unsung

irlandesuk art, poetry

buff titanium
         Buff titanium, John Lyons (40 x 40 cm, oil on canvas)

Time is distance
and distance is also
unused time

How wasteful of us
to be apart
our hands
our arms
our lips pointless
in this drought
of love

Dreams that have gone
their separate ways
rose petals that unfold
in a wilderness of dust

It was invention
that kept us together
a shared language
of gestures

This coldness
is a failure
of the imagination
this silence
the kiss of death

John Lyons

The business of love

irlandesuk art, poetry ,

table
                         Table, John Lyons (70 x 50 cm, acrylic on paper)

A steadfast table
Icelandic blue
on an arctic white
chequered cloth
that cannot contain
every object
the shoes and plates
and tickets to ride

A table
a tenderness
a place in time
an invitation to all
who are absent
a necessary space
where laughter
and silence may
congregate

A table where chance
would be a fine thing
and intimate moments
may be played out
or where a hat may be left
or a bunch of keys
and a dog may bark
off camera

A table fit
for the business of life
or the business of love
or to address the appetite
or to say grace
before a meal
or to lay or to clear
or to be in between
or to bear the weight
of a cool red rose
in a cut glass bowl

John Lyons

Love’s fatal trap

irlandesuk poetry

Venus flytrap
                           Venus Flytrap

Strange flowers
       strange savages
that prey upon
       living prey
the Cobra Lily
       the Monkey Cup
the Venus Flytrap
       the Australian Sundew
seductive beauties
       with beguiling names
enticing the innocent
       into the moist
treacherous lips
       of sudden death

John Lyons

Condensed lines

irlandesuk art, poetry

bottles
                Sketch (60 x 40 cm, acrylic on paper)

Oak and ash and sycamore
bear testimony to life’s purpose
a truth in themselves
affording peace and harmony

wherever they stand –
their breath our breath
their shadow our refuge
In fierce winds unflinching

a life of beauty and service
they dwarf all human ambition –
fearless in the face of time
indifferent to the clamber of birds

Steadfast – to all comers
they are generous to a fault

John Lyons

Earlier draft below

Oak and ash and sycamore
       bear testimony to life’s purpose
they are a truth in themselves
       wherever they stand
there is peace and harmony
       their breath is our breath
their shadow our refuge
       in fierce winds

they do not flinch
       theirs is a life of beauty
and service and observe
       how they dwarf
every human ambition
       how fearlessly they endure
in the face of time
       indifferent to the clamber
of birds among their branches
       to all comers generous to a fault