Those hands
on the cave wall
in Santa Cruz
Argentina
waving to us
from 9000 years ago
Silhouettes created
by blowing paint
through bone-made pipes
: and such warmth
in these gestures
as if to say
we’re here and in our art
we salute you
our friends
to come
John Lyons
Revised from an earlier post on 2 April 2018
And so to live
the warm antiquity of self
in a world grown cold
green eyes that look
to the forgiving sky
and in the night
fresh stars appear
– the wine is good
and love is always
a prospect
That brave man
looks and learns
and is not afraid
to relinquish the past
to distance himself
from all that is false
or faint-hearted
John Lyons
This revised poem is based on a reading of two poems by Wallace Stevens, ‘The Brave Man” and “A Fading of the Sun” from an early seminal collection, Ideas of Order (1936). The accompanying painting is an old camembert lid splattered with leftover colours so as not to waste.
Time threads its way
through the rain
down into the gutter
down into the earth
the gentle drizzle of time
and I lie here thinking of her
far away now
but remembering the closeness
the soft warmth of her body
the beauty of her composure
the sheer energy of her existence
everything that drew me to her
As galaxies roll around the universe
as stars are born and others die
as fresh shoots of life appear
all around me I pine for her
hating her absence and the silence
with which she has filled
my days and nights
There was an intensity
to what we shared
with all the simplicity
of passion – and I know
that it can never die
And so I wait for her
to turn again – to return
to place her heart
into my hands once more
John Lyons
Perhaps I’m eating too much cheese, despite knowing that the flatulence from cattle breeding – and that includes milch cows – is contributing to the overproduction of methane gas in the atmosphere.
I suppose that makes my camembert consumption not particularly friendly to the environment, but what can you do? I don’t want to raise a stink about it.
Nevertheless, here’s my apocalyptic vision (on a camembert lid) of climate warming leading to global meltdown.
John Lyons
Spring with all its promise
the flowers that we cut
tulips and irises and daffodils
the words we hold
close to our hearts
when time moves
at a gentler pace
and we hear the coo of doves
as nature positions itself
for all that it takes
for the species to survive
the particles of life
coming together
difference converging
and young children skip
along the pavements
and lovers embrace
under the shade
of willow and oak
A world that the beholder
imagines and savours
in the mind and heart
Light borne on the tide
the river suffused
and the oceans deep
with the mystery
Knowledge of things –
chromatic achievements
are as naught
when love is absent
John Lyons
Overnight
a heavy frost
unexpected
though still the birds
woke me
with their spring song
how strongly their instincts
are attuned to shifts
in the quality of light
how anxious they are
to rehearse
their love calls
Overnight
you were a thought
in my head
and I awoke
with memory of you
obstinate in its occupation
of my mind
my heart
In the Sunday silence
I sip coffee
alone for all the world
and recall the ritual
we shared
our calm and loving conversation
over the first coffee
of the day
John Lyons
A working body
a body that works
a body of work
work of the body
a body of words
words of the body
the embodiment
of beauty
encased in words
of bold beauty
a casket of jewels
sounding sense
and emotion
makes language
rise above signs
expression
in delicate metrical
dance steps
heartfelt
body of breath
John Lyons
we who emerged
from the sea
from tall forest trees
from damp caves
are but shadows
hands daubed
in red ochre
on the walls
flames dance
as the flesh roasts
we have hunted
we have gathered
we made love
now we have died
John Lyons
Value shaped
by the heart
and by the hand
lends form to love
The torso that gleams
the flicker of stone
seen in the eyes
all the softness
of starlight
caught in the lines
from which these
my words
take their life
gracefully
The artist a beast
that preys upon
the timeless universe’s
distance
movement
and depth
John Lyons
Em português:
Valor formado
pelo coração
e pela mão
dá forma ao amor
O torso que brilha
o cintilar de pedra
visto nos olhos
toda a suavidade
da luz das estrelas
pego nas linhas
das quais
minhas palavras
tiram a vida
graciosamente
O artista uma fera
que faz pilhagem
da distância
do movimento
da profundidade
do eterno universo
These are my feelings
a redness and a blackness
and a whiteness and a blueness
randomly organised
into a provisional chaos
that will change with time
as the pain passes
as the paint cures
as the oils dry
and the sadness drains
and there is peace once again
in my heart
John Lyons
johnjosephlyons 