A little light on love

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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

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

 

Birthday in Rushden

Birthday in Rushden

Where you took
           your first breath
and all that has
           happened since
the laughter
           and the tears

those you have
           known and loved
your eyes alert
           to the slightest
act of tenderness
           Where your limbs
first stirred
           and where
from time to time
           your thoughts return

On each occasion
           you feel the same
you feel different
           knowing that you too
in spirit and in the flesh
           are deeply loved

John Lyons

 

A mind of winter

A mind of winter

Today I have
           a mind of winter
a heavy frost overnight
           has coated the cars
with freezing ice
           and the glazed paths
are treacherous
           underfoot
as I make my way
           down to the station

now is no time to slip
           and break a bone
in the darkness
           A mind of winter
in which all things
           fall back to the earth
trees stripped bare
           to reveal hidden nests
a world it would seem
           in disarray
in which things end
           the only warmth
to be found
           in the arms
of the one I love
           the one I love

John Lyons

 

Art everlasting

flowers on blue
Flowers on blue background

Art everlasting

These frail flowers
           a figment
of the imagination
           nothing real
or accurate
           or even precise
or well-executed
           mere pigment
on a wooden base
           but not a single rose
or peony or petunia
           or daffodil
will outlive this
           notional posy

John Lyons

A love bouquet

suggestion_flowers
Love bouquet, John Lyons (oil on wood)

A love bouquet

The mere suggestion
           will suffice
when it comes
           to art
the form
           inseparable
from the content
           shapes we carry
in the memory
           things associated
with multiple purposes
           the detailing
of the expression
           of feelings
a simple bouquet
           for my love

John Lyons


Corrected text

The web of wombs

The web of wombs

The stars are out tonight
not quite infinite in number

but nevertheless innumerable
diamonds are tiny nuggets of star

stars and diamonds are celebration
that in the darkness there is light

as there is light in her eyes
and in her smile a celebration

In these winter days
we have each other for warmth

all warmth from the stars
all love that warms the cockles

the creative universe a web of wombs
out of which each human heart

John Lyons

The necessary rose

The necessary rose

What Wallace took
           from Emerson
that the beautiful rests
           on the foundations
of the necessary
           the poet’s fidelity
to his office
           to the announcement
and affirmation
           of the beauty of things

All form is an effect
           of character
all condition
           of the quality of life
The soul is the form
           that makes the body
: the beauty of a rose
           is not arbitrary
it is the embodiment
           of a truth and only as such
does it enter our spiritual world
           and love is the higher beauty
to which our human souls
           necessarily aspire

John Lyons

The age of innocence

The age of innocence

The age of steam
had not ended
when I was born

I remember
thick plumes of smoke
that trailed
behind the locomotives

and the acrid air
that hung
in the soot-stained platforms

I remember
the piercing whistles
that trumpeted warnings

as the engines roared
through the station
at full throttle

and the rhythmic chug
and pant
and the grinding
of wheels of steel on steel

I was a child then
and I remember
all my innocence
and my love of life

John Lyons