The body thrives


That we are things

        things that think
we are stone
        made flesh

the atomic numbers
        within us that hold
our thoughts
        and our feelings

We search for meaning
        on all sides
and within ourselves
        direction and purpose

and we set great store
        by love in all forms
by beauty in all forms
        by truth in every instance

Though it may take an eternity
        the universe is countable
its infinity finite and bound
        by contraction—by attraction

love is the quantum
        song is its expression
light its revelation : the body
        thrives in its consummation

John Lyons

 

How Beautiful You Are

Art or a shared thought
        a certain fixed combination
of words or shapes
        or numbers in a mathematical
formula : a theorem or
        a theory

How when they are captured
        they transcend time and space —
the eternal curves of the lines
        presented on canvas
Les Demoiselles d’Avignon
        that transport us to 1907
and beyond

They mixed pigments
        by the fireside
before daubing the walls : later
        panels or cloth stretched
on a frame that allowed
        the walls to be transported

Is it the heart
        or the mind that delights
in infinite things ?
        Let’s call them
death cheaters

Art
        Imagination
Creation
        The music of the spheres
harmony abounds
        and our senses
soak it all up

How beautiful the nightingale
        How beautiful the Grecian Urn
Autumn fields heavy with dew
        The cold North
and the warm South
        The drowsy Mediterranean

How beautiful the body
        How beautiful life
How beautiful love
        How beautiful the air
we breathe    How beautiful
        you are

John Lyons


Highly recommended, The Cloud of Witness a retrospective of paintings by Keith Cunningham at the Newport Street Gallery till 21 August 2022. Free admission.

Alive loves

The art and understanding
        of small children
innocent seeds sown
        into the dust

All that grows
        flourishes
flowers
        that brings beauty
in time

See how the leaves
        have burst forth
how spring has renewed
        the face of our earth

The remedy
        against the clock
is to steep oneself
        in art
according to
        Zukofsky

to make of life
        a long paradise
to cultivate one’s
        own garden of eden

Alive loves

John Lyons

Gratitude

And then there is
        silence
the blank page
        the primed canvas
but every image retained
        internally

All the memories
        held in the breath
mindfulness
        gratitude
for all the love
        granted : acceptance
for all the lost love
        The story we once
wove hand in hand
        before we went
our separate ways
        down the age

John Lyons

Bones of the earth

face_detail
                   Face detail in earth pigments, John Lyons

That constant urge

        to create—to re-present
the world around us
        upon stretched cloth
that grows in the fields
        daubed with silica and clay
with manganese
        and hydrated iron oxide

We carry these pigments
        in our bones
we who have sprung
        from the very bones
of the earth
        all the hardness
and the softness
        of our bodies
and our eyes
        devouring everything
we see
        shape and colour
texture and weight
        our lives a constant
interpretation
        of what it means
to be and to live
        and to love

John Lyons

Portrait of the artist

Revised face
               Face, John Lyons (40 x 40 cm, oil on canvas)

I know this face
        from somewhere
those piercing eyes
        looking out from the canvas

There have been subtle shifts
        since it last appeared
alterations in the tone—
        the cadmium red sharpened
the yellow ochre lightened
        the titanium white
slightly buffed to lower
        the intensity

I think of this study
        as a field or a terrain
out of which an image
        emerges organically
much as though
        it were alive

I like the uneven
        surface of the land
the imperfections
        the different shades
and tones

a face from the earth
        and of the earth
dust of my dust
        which once was

John Lyons

Our common ownership

A poem for all seasons
syllables at the ready
sounds good

The subtle shift
from crocuses
to daffodils

as high pressure
settles in across
the continent

We have so much
to be thankful for
yet give such

little thanks : so much
life squandered
to no purpose

It’s not a competition
earth fire water air
belong to us all

No one should
own life : no one
should own death

love should be
our inalienable common
ownership

John Lyons


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Eugenio Montejo – Caracas

2000_mall_caracas

Caracas seen from the Milleniumm de Los Dos Caminos Mall

So tall are the buildings that
nothing of my childhood remains to be seen.
I’ve lost my back yard with its slow clouds
where the light dropped ibis feathers,
Egyptian clarities.
I’ve lost my name and the dream of my house.
Rigid walkways, tower upon tower,
now hide the mountain from us.
The din grows a thousand engines per ear,
a thousand cars per foot, all deathly.
Men chase after their voices
but the voices drift
behind the taxis.
More distant than Thebes, Troy, Nineveh
and the fragments of their dreams,
where was Caracas?
I’ve lost my shadow and the feel of its stones.
Nothing of my childhood remains to be seen.
I can grope my way through its streets now
increasingly lonely;
its space is real, unflinching, solid concrete.
only my history is false.

Eugenio Montejo
(translation by John Lyons)


See Eugenio Montejo 21 grams

Landscape with blue sky

sketch
Landscape with blue sky, John Lyons (70 x 50 cm, oil on canvas) 

The fact is
        that anything goes
as long as boundaries
        are respected
that is to say
        the sun and the blue sky
remain above the fields
        and farm buildings

Paintings are colourscapes
        full of hints and suggestions
Renaissance nativities or crucifixions
        have become easy on the eye
imagine now a stage upon which
        reds and yellows and blues
and whites dance freely
        and follow nothing but
the most basic rules :
        seek and you shall find 

John Lyons

Love’s bone structure

third detail
          Third detail, John Lyons (oil on canvas)

The high cheekbones
        the shape of the eyes
the thin smile
        the unobtrusive ears
the slender neck
        her supple feet

The feet of a dancer
        trained to pace the floor
with dignity and poise
        a frame upon which
fabrics sat elegantly
        could bear the weight
of primary colours
        had she found
someone to love
        she might have
loved him forever
        dearly deeply

John Lyons