A theatre of many minds
a poem through which
many swallows move
soundlessly
beaks agape
harvesting the aphids
invisible to the naked eye
The long pendulous palm leaves
on this sun-risen day
bedraggled sway
in the light breeze
last night’s stars
put to bed
along with the moon
here hope
comes with the territory
love too
Perpendicular sun
above perfect blue horizon
swallows darting overhead
tiny lizards basking
on igneous rock
youth and beauty
jogging along the shore
out of the volcanic earth
irrepressible life
This image of colours
on canvas
means nothing but
cadmium red
and cadmium yellow
applied with strokes
of a thick fibred brush
Is it a landscape
or a thoughtscape
or do the shapes refer
to anything at all ?
There are sensuous lines
that seem to flow
around a hollow
providing elements perhaps
for a composition
There is light and darkness
and just enough to create
the illusion of mystery
and yet this image
I should say this canvas
no longer exists
except in this archived
electronic shot
the original having been
obliterated by layer upon layer
of other colours
in other shapes
I paint because every attempt
is a voyage of discovery
I paint in the hope that one day
I will reach my newfoundland
I paint to create a context
within which to live
my life and my love to the full
John Lyons
And still they search
for signs of other life
in the universe
huge parabolic ears cocked
and listening to the whimpers
of cosmic birth pangs
Is it not enough
that you and I
are here and now ?
Could it not be
that you and I
and the love
we share
are purpose enough
for the whole of creation ?
John Lyons
Revised from earlier post
To see the world
as love sees it
the constant
ephemeral flame
what fires the heart
sets acts of passion
in motion
and drives us
to be better
than ourselves
to be the gift
that never dies
to be the truth
that never denies
its reason for being
its being for a reason
John Lyons
That we are made of light
this explains your beauty
your rich red handsome blood
housed in the flesh
turns of phrase on the tongue
words of love
and the delight in your eyes
nothing more naked
more wholesome nor
more complete than love
It’s in our nature
to shine
to glow
to tremble with excitement
to be among all other things
tender and warm
and clear and unwavering
in our heart’s purpose
scrupulous with every kiss
our bones bound for glory
John Lyons
Light travels at such a speed
to us it seems static
and through the waters
a carp swims swiftly
but we catch the glimmer
of its scales
or the trout moving
through a stream
that summer in Kilkenny
ripples of sunlight
drifting across
the river surface
All things move
and our emotions too
movements of the heart
one towards another
and we call that
love
John Lyons
When lost for words
I reach for the poets
Charles Olson
or François Villon
luminous words
scrawled on paper
genius is almost always low tech
it comes in flashes
in aperçus
in fleeting moments of insight
All that has been
suddenly is : time
is the face of recognition
where are the loves
of yesteryear
the snowfields of yore ?
Each of us has
our own unique antiquity
some die in their bed while others
swing from hallowed gallows
Notre Dame
a place of visitation
a monument to belief
in the resurrected spirit
John Lyons
I have picked a path
through the day
and now that the sun is setting
I sit here wallowing
in the afterglow
light softly fading
as time settles down
for the night
Within what memories
I have lived these hours past
of moments and places
and feelings that can never
be relinquished
down by the silent river
or along those dusty streets
where nothing ever changes
where nothing will ever
be the same again
John Lyons
Sometimes
when preparing
a canvas
it’s best
just to allow
the basic geometries
of energy and colour
to take over
not to overthink
the composition
In this canvas
the paint has been
thinly applied
at first with a brush
before being marshalled
by the palette knife
The blank page
and the blank canvas
have so much in common :
the rule is simple
don’t hang back
if it doesn’t work out start again
but don’t get uptight
Sometimes she loves you
sometimes she does not
Get over it
John Lyons
johnjosephlyons 