Gilding the lily
How else
to gild the lily
other than
through words
words
that bloom
in poetry
Some lilies
are toxic
to cats
and yet
the flowers and roots
of some species
are edible
to humans
Why cats ?
John Lyons
Author: irlandesuk
Urban syndication
Urban syndication
Future generations
will ask who built this city
who lived within the confines
of these tall steel and glass structures
who stripped the streets
of their warmth and their humanity
who piled misery upon misery
in places where no grass grew
where no tree blossomed
where even the birds
struggled to retain their sense
of melody and failed
At night the sullen grey river
runs it course heading down
to the sea where all dreams end
At night there is silence but for the wail
of sirens that deter rather than attract
At night even the sleep of lovers
will be broken on the hard bed
of intemperate progress
each gasping breath assessed
for its value
for its profit
for its loss
John Lyons
In times of emergency
In times of emergency
It’s our duty to be attentive :
the same consciousness
that sets us apart
brings us together
not just in times
of collective emergency
but as we admire a fair rose
or gaze into a pair of pale
green or blue or hazel eyes
and whisper words of love
And in the summer lie
beneath the mighty oak
and know that its leaves
will one day fall and yet
not give a damn
because love is all
and while away the hours
wondering wistfully
where the universe would be
without us
John Lyons
Peonies
Peonies
Think pink thrill
of the peonies
their curvaceous
double bloom
their petalled layers
of fragrant frills
skirting a deeper
fertile mystery
John Lyons
Against decadent decay
Against decadent decay
A world put under the mind’s scalpel
that world within a world
of words and nouns and verbs
a poetry of things that co-opts them
into the world of thought and feeling
Who salutes the morning dew
or pays homage to the heroic harvest
or sings of time’s magnificence
and all that filters through it
who sets the frailty of rosebuds
against the strength of love
Whose naming encompasses
the sun and the moon and the stars
or traps the compelling beauty
of the cosmos in order to investigate
the vast poetics of space
with all its untold relativities
so that no thing remains dumb
or inanimate or is abandoned
to the decaying decadence of defeat ?
John Lyons
Resurrecting the day
Resurrecting the day
The early morning air misty
and heavy with summer scents
and through the silence
of the reawakening day
come the raucous cries
of crow and magpie
black and black and white
and still a primeval innocence
as on that first day
before there were days
and no note was taken
and in the distance
the tall trees a shadow
of themselves though the sun
will soon lift the mantle
of stupour
Footsteps hasten along the street
headed for the station
to the train that will transport them
to a different territory
and all the life that that entails
Under the moon there may have been
a night of passion or of despair
or of nothing but the repetition
of nothing with no softness
or no caress nor any word
of kindness to lift the soul
the day now ahead
to be improvised
the rich red rose to be admired
and love never to be forgotten
and hope never to be abandoned
John Lyons
Ralph Waldo Emerson
Ralph Waldo Emerson
He who in his later years
attended Longfellow’s funeral
and muttered : « That gentleman
was a sweet beautiful soul
but I have entirely forgotten
his name »
He who at the age of thirty
had called on Coleridge
in Highgate and described him
as a short stout old man
with bright blue eyes
and a fine clear complexion
and noted his addiction to snuff
of which during the visit
he partook freely
presently soiling
his cravat
and his neat black suit
The poet is the sayer
the namer of things
without impediment
A poem by one who knows
and tells with thoughts
passionate and alive
so that its spirit
has an architecture
of its own
John Lyons
War zone
War zone
A commotion of crows
cawing at my window
a call to arms perhaps
what are you waiting for
get the job done
we have been patient
as the days and months
slipped by and the world
remained the same
this is our world too
we were here before
you ever set foot
before you ever appeared
we roamed the fields
and soared in the skies
when the earth was
a place of harmony
free from wars
and bitter divisions :
blessed are
the peacemakers
if you can find them
John Lyons
Life’s credentials
Life’s credentials
Love
here where
the petals fell
and withered
into dust
remained
Now
with years
piled upon me
less supple
of limb
and mind
less agile
love remains
Words are actions
actions words
the deed of truth
is all that lasts
and life until
love’s last breath
John Lyons
Lines written at Chartres
Lines written at Chartres
Beauty is in its expression
in the act of its articulation
in the fact of its confession
the light that shines through
the stained-glass narratives
in the huge rose window
of Chartres Cathedral
A story of grace as told
by the human family
the craft of revelation
the assertion of faith
and hope in the rendering
of charity in the unity
of the sun and the stars
and the earth and the sea
the colourful fragments
with which the wholeness
is composed – many flowers
in a single bouquet
the truth that lies in the art
Wake at daybreak
to the sound of birdsong
sweet as on the day
of its creation
We are the birds of Chartres
and in our voices you will hear
only beauty and peace
and you will know that love
without its expression
is as dead as the cold
untouched stone that awaits
the craftsman’s hand
John Lyons
johnjosephlyons 