Author: irlandesuk

Homage to Ed Clark

irlandesuk art, poetry
ed_clark_creation.jpg
Creation, Ed Clark (oil on canvas)

Homage to Ed Clark

Deep into autumn
           many trees stripped bare
or gone to gold and rust
           a sparrow returns
to a familiar bush
           only to discover
that all the berries
           have been eaten

there’s a beautiful
           light grey sky up above
Ed Clark could’ve painted it
           and for some reason
or no reason at all
           I think of a piebald horse
I once saw grazing
           in a field in retirement

today the earth
           is spinning slowly
time is dragging its heels
           I should get a move on
head out into
           the big wide world
and prepare to fight
           the good fight
but then I think ok
           what’s the rush
the future can wait
           just a little longer

John Lyons

With the rain come memories

irlandesuk poetry

With the rain come memories

With the rain
come memories
of other damp corners
of my life
threads of drizzle
slowly slipping
down the skylight

light through a clear
pane of glass
rolling tears
of rainwater

with the rain
comes time
and distance
and every age
I’ve lived

from boy to man
all the expectations
of human warmth
to fill the emptiness

a prayer
secretly harboured
for lasting change
for a purposeful love
for a sense of direction

John Lyons

Edited from an earlier post

Alchemy of the natural world

irlandesuk poetry

Alchemy of the natural world

Through my window
           I see it this way : the world
in its winter wardrobe
           the bright berries gone
the hanging fruit all picked
           green turned to rust and gold
a dampness in the atmosphere
           the lawn overgrown
across which squirrels and foxes
           move with greater stealth

I see it not as an end
           or as a failure
but more of a tactical retreat
           in preparation
for all the beauty entailed
           in the spring offensive

John Lyons

 

Obedience to the world’s business

irlandesuk poetry

Obedience to the world’s business

Obedience to the world’s business
what is that ?

and what of our nature ?
it should be the simplest of things

this drawing in and out of breath
a voice in tune with our emotions

the beating heart drawn
irresistibly towards love

to observe and to admire
how she moves

within the aura of beauty
What special purpose is ours

other than to be
the embodiment of love ?

John Lyons

A magpie perched

irlandesuk poetry

A magpie perched

Trick or treat
           beauty or truth
body and soul
           so the voice goes
a magpie perched
           on the branch
of an apple tree
           pecks at the fruit
and the branch rocks
           and the wind rises
through this suburban
           universe

Light captured
           in autumn colours
a flurry of rusty leaves
           falling through
the wintry air
           a love so deep
so satisfying
           a love to die for
a love that makes
           life worth living
The magpie picks
           at the sour fruit
will never know
           of the joy that runs
through my heart
           trick or treat

John Lyons

A little light on love

irlandesuk art, poetry
network
Atomic flesh, John Lyons (40 x 40 cm, oil on canvas)

A little light on love

Physics tells us so much
           about our bodies
that they are formed
           from restless energies
that movement
           is fundamental
to every aspect
           of the universe
that our souls
           were forged
in the very origins
           of time

that expansion
           versus contraction
is the developmental
           paradox of the whole
of creation
           down to the pulsating
chambers of our hearts
           and that gravity
is an expression of love
           drawing one person
irresistibly
           close to another

John Lyons

 

Particles of being

irlandesuk art, poetry

Particles of being

When was it
              Wallace asks
that the particles became
              the whole man ?

Whose hand shaped the clay
              into what became
the Grecian urn ?
               Clay working upon clay
Whose hand hardened it
              in the fire
so that it would be there
              for all time ?

A breathing human passion 
               The energy to create
and so direct those energies
              to a precise purpose
earth to earthenware
              clay to Keats
poet to poetry
              truth to beauty

John Lyons

 

 

John Lyons