poetry

An image of childhood

irlandesuk poetry

An image of childhood

perhaps not words
           but a mind built
from sensations
           from feelings
from silent experiences
           from gestures
from acts of kindness
           of gentleness and affection
an innocence valued
           speechless and yet
expressive
           brief light

brief summer
           all that may be forgotten
but never is
           the quiet pulse of trust
of belief in others
           belief in another
simple numbers
           one two and three
a home with a small garden
           perhaps trees to climb
roses in a bed
           centre of the lawn
the summer light
           caught on the fruit
peach and plum
           and apple and cherry
a mind shaped
           by emotion
if words at all
           words that caress
affirmation
           in lieu of challenges

a wholeness
           in which identities
are prized
           above knowledge
voices nurtured
           language suffused
with understanding
           and love
no fear of eternity
           no fear

John Lyons

Respite

irlandesuk poetry, Uncategorized

Respite

Out onto the quiet streets
           clear pale blue sky
and lower temperatures
           the winter respite
during which
           crocuses have appeared
on the edges of the woodland
           trees covered in dense ivy

A moment for reflection for time
           with the solitude of the self
that restless inner voice
           full of temperament
and belief and hope
           the thoughtful mind
that moves through
           the transparent air
through the barometric
           pressures of time
and space and place
           a sense of movement
through the stillness
           of the constructed world
unconsciously conscious
           a human shadow
unseen unheard full of
           compassion for this world
of particles that would
           split the atom

John Lyons

Upbringing

irlandesuk poetry

Upbringing

Body
           air
forms
           and images

born between
           mountains
by a bay
           in the west
looking out
           across the sea
at a point where
           the river enters

grew up
           between gorse
and heather
           the taste
of wild honey
           on her lips

midnight
           held no fears
but the aching
           dawn was
by all accounts
           unbearable
the sun that
           scrutinized
her every
           movement

happiness
           seen as so many
blades of coarse grass
           there where
the withering wind
           blew in bringing
chill winter clouds
           the night fires
kindled under
           hopeless stars
a name
           and no more

John Lyons

The way it goes

irlandesuk poetry

The way it goes

Words make us
           they are the flesh
of our hopes
           our dreams
our expectations
           nothing exists
without articulation
           not the sea
not the shore
           not the salmon
rising in the river
           nor the red rose
that blooms
           in your garden
and each day
           each moment
is the creation
           of that moment
and the love
           we make
we remake
           time and time
again because
           life is always
one step ahead
           of history
and so I long
           for your kiss
as though
           I had never
been kissed
           before : long
for the soft curve
           of your body
within my grasp

we never tire of roses
           much less of love
life is eternal
           composition
love its one true
           expression
words merely
           the medium

John Lyons

The essential poem

irlandesuk poetry ,

The essential poem

The essential poem
           one that relates
the clouds and the trees
           to an earth that would
otherwise be barren
           the words that enter
into the very dynamics
           of what it is to exist
and to be breathingly alive
           attuned to the beauties
of light that plays
           on the calm sea surface
or the breeze that ruffles
           the leaves of the forest

words that make sense
           words that draw colours
together and moves shapes
           into a moving composition
in which the subtle harmonies
           outlast the darkest thunder

the lover chooses words
           out of desire out of hunger
for the opulence of flesh
           upon willing flesh
and a kind of fulfillment
           that makes sense of the horizon
and the movement of planets
           of wheat raised from the soil
that feeds the necessitous soul :
           the essential poem is a song
condensed from loving energies
           informed by lip and finger
a tactile clairvoyance that knows
           from the softness of her breast
that life without love
           is utter desolation

John Lyons

Unfinished overture

irlandesuk poetry

Unfinished overture

It is the density of your desire
           that I find most appealing
your body is not just an adjunct
           but a warm receiving intensity
of flesh and bone that seeks
           to cradle my affections

yes there is a sense of calm purpose
           but allied with this is a passion
that knows no bounds
           that seeks to envelop me
with a thousand arms and legs
           all at once amid a blitz of kisses

John Lyons

Dull day

irlandesuk poetry

Dull day

At night
           the clear skies
endless space
           and a feeling
that all things
           are possible
countless stars
           urging us on
to better things
           to better dreams

It’s the grey skies
           that get me down
I feel hemmed in
           as though the wool
has been pulled
           over my eyes
once too often
           these dull grey
unimaginative skies
           a lethargic wind
a day within which
           the day appears
to drift aimlessly
           to a pointless
conconclusion
           I could say more
but I won’t
           not for now

John Lyons

Miracle

irlandesuk poetry

Miracle

Something
           greater than life
may move life on
           to something greater

imagine a rose
           in full bloom
out of season
           but adamant

that its beauty
           should rise up
through the final
           dark days

of December
           Imagine an absence
curtailed out of love
           imagine words

in their full flower
           meaning exactly
what they say
           imagine a kiss

that may raise
           the dead
from the dead
           love is that miracle

under this blue
           firmament
there is no other
           we need no other

John Lyons

Love all that matters

irlandesuk poetry

Love all that matters

Call it the necessity
           and the flower of life
though neither of those
           does it justice in the least

think of the moral qualities
           present in our consciousness
think of all the choices we make
           throughout our complex lives

and then consider the thread
           of simplicities that runs
through the very heart
           of all that matters

and know that that love
           is all that matters
that is all that matters
           that is all

John Lyons

The Tower

irlandesuk poetry ,
yeats
W B Yeats (1865-1939)

The Tower

The clouds of the sky
           torn to shreds
by the bitter wind
           grey clouds blowing in
from the East
           on this the shortest day
the longest night to come
            How well Yeats understood
the wreck of the body
           the slow decay of the blood
and for so many years
           knew only love unrequited
haughty disdainful love
           that near broke his heart
until he found satisfaction
           with one who cared
peace of body and mind
           at last and an harmonious life

Faith and pride
           he bequeaths to the young
and memories of love
           the poet’s sweet imaginings
he puts to one side :
           time indeed to make a living will
a testament to his humanity
           the lock stock and barrel
of his life and the learnings
           of his unbroken soul

John Lyons