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
The hypnotic sound of the sea
breaking on the shore
the hydraulic power of the waves
that race in and appear to trip
and crash down on the shingle
the rasp as the waters retreat
the white surf lacing the beach
Something primeval within us
nostalgia for the ocean depths
from which we emerged
and for a simpler form of life
for that prime motility
that brings us to where
we are today
The sea runs in our veins
with all the essential salts
star warmth marine blood
stoking the complexities
of human relations
the come and go upon dry land
She loves me she loves me not
another shore another sea
there is always another
another and another
John Lyons
The play of light
and shadow
on the canal waters
place of all ages
place of all beauty
shops filled
with sumptuous pieces
of Murano glass
And how the light
travelled through
the contoured colours
and how it rose
in your eyes
as you examined them
and how I loved you then
and how I love you now
John Lyons
Love too is a work
of the imagination
it constantly seeks
new forms of expression
in order to remain fresh
to keep the present alive
and not simply trade
on the faded past
It can be brash
and outspoken
and have real attitude
since by its very nature
it’s gestural
more in the manner
of a de Kooning
or a Pollock
than a Titian
or a Raphael
Yes I want all of you
the sweep of your strokes
across my body
your hair falling
into my eyes
my face drowning
in your tears
of laughter
your precious hand
gripping on to mine
as we hurtle
down the roller coaster
moving from the darkness
into the light
John Lyons
Momentary flames
a brief fire that flickers
in the mouth of a cave
a time for reflection
and for expression
Pollock’s hand prints
on the wall
the colours mixed
with intention
a scheme of things
in the mind
deliberately executed
Not to leave a record
but simply to tell
of how it is
of how it was
that day when we walked
through the rain
or when we parked our bikes
and stood in the shadow
of Chartres cathedral
and admired its beauty
Days that we will never forget
until the end of our days
and our love held
in the memory
John Lyons
A poet works
with eyes and ears
listening and watching for
whatever is worthy of note
and for the silence
that sustains it all
A poet sees and tells
such as it is
the lie of the land
the clocks that tick
the hand that leans
out of the boat
to trail fingers
in the smooth sea
A poet wipes the salt
from his lips
before he kisses
the love of his life
He preserves
her beauty in lines
that will reach
beyond
the outer edges
of time
But a poet must not
be betrayed :
to do so is to break
the universe in two
John Lyons
And so my life evolves
in momentary flames
of passion and of loss
of belief and disbelief
the warm colours of love
the frosty colours
of abandonment
my image strung up
on the walls
of a civilised cave
These are the true forms
these the accurate renderings
of a somewhat chaotic existence
captured the texture of my life
It is my breath that has filled
this unfinished canvas
and I fully intend to paint
myself out of every corner
that I have through my choices
and my good
and bad decisions
created
What does it represent
what does it all mean
you might ask
and I answer
everything
every tiny detail
It is for the observer to unravel
the intimate timeline
to arrive
at the heart of the matter
the broken heart
and to piece it all together
John Lyons
I imagine flakes of time
falling gently
through the universe
the ash of moments
invisible to the naked eye
but that the heart
apprehends in the darkness
that moves into the light
in the light that moves
into the darkness
Three years of flowers
that first flourished
then faded and then died
The images abandoned
in the mirror along with
the laughter and the love
What it meant
to be together
what it means
to be apart
John Lyons
Revised from an earlier post
Came now to peace
the darkness
and the silence
before the light
before the day broke
Heard foxes in retreat
the first cries of the pigeons
Heard the crows
scampering across the roof
all this
before the local world awoke
before the buzz of traffic
in the distance
Peace in the darkness
and in the silence
alone with my thoughts
before the turbulence
of the day
nursing memories
mindful of the blessings
I have received
the love that came and went
but that was for a while
worth living for
John Lyons
I shall set this yellow canvas
aside for a while
and wait to see
what might grow in it
in the imagination
Yellow the colour of
joy and energy and loyalty
of intellect and fresh hope
of the wheat fields
on the foothills
around Arles
or the sunflowers
that Vincent so lovingly
painted with his life
the sky above him
a chrome yellow
almost as bright
as the sun itself
John Lyons
