Fingerprints, John Lyons (70 x 50 cm, oil on canvas)
This painting
is easily identified
it has my prints
all over it
So simple to execute
but absolutely
impossible to copy ;
I defy you to try
John Lyons
poetry
What dies of the day
What dies of the day
is dust is past
is long gone
serves no purpose
cannot be retrieved
is not worth retrieving
two crows in a field
gingerly hounding
a fox off their territory
two steps forward
one step back
the fox nonchalant
devil may care
the crows determined
all that lives in the day
lives forever
all that love in the day
love forever
and poetry is timeless
measurement
capsules of sound
of meaning of feeling
preserved against
the grain of life
poetry and love
go hand in hand
care for the fox
and the crows
indifferently
John Lyons
Underworld
Underworld, John Lyons (80 x 60 cm, oil on canvas)
And so I continue
to map out my map
this is my world
your world too
a world of colour
of land and sea
and time and distance
and a chance to know
where we stand and
where we come from
All the time I’m thinking
of textures and one hue
overlaying another and
the currents created
by different brush strokes
the transition from warm
to cold and light to dark
and I know too that
in the future all this
will be buried beneath
skeins of black and white
applied at random and
as the mood takes me
My under painting
is intended to be
an underworld
a crude organisation
underpinning
an orchestrated chaos
a warm living breathing
world in which all things
are possible including
peace including justice
and including love
John Lyons
A world view
Worldmappe, John Lyons (80 x 60 cm, oil on canvas)
A view of the world
an artist’s impression
how I see it
drawn from memory
some anomalies
some distortions
some aspects
out of proportion
basic and schematic
a work of fiction
based on the loosest
of all possible perceptions
I’m not a satellite
I’m located somewhere
within these dimension
it’s a self-portrait
Apart from the ocean
the colours are notional
this is how I work
creating an underpainting
with a clear narrative
the north and south
of my knowledge
and nothing left to chance
These words are a draft
of other words as yet
unwritten
In the final painting
earth pigments will abound
actions will be recorded
representational actions
and the canvas will be
stained forever
my right hand holding
a thin stick will trace
the motion of currents
around this two-dimensional
globe upon which the sun
appears to always shine
I cannot literally
paint on your wall
much as I would love to
this is the best I can do
: hang it !
John Lyons
Love that sets the path
Light that reaches back
to the origin of light
the original species
of light from which
all emanates
Has time ever stood still ?
Has movement ever ceased ?
The universe that expands
within our minds
within our hearts
all energy recycled
all growth turned
to advantage
So too love
in all its leisure
and our internal life
governed by purpose
and by attraction
by what we call desire
the passion that fires up
the humbled penitent soul
to action
Love that reaches back
into all our yesterdays
Love that sets the path
for all our days to come
John Lyons
Tilled earth
Land, John Lyons (70 x 50 cm, oil on canvas)
The tilled earth
arable land worked
by ploughing and sowing
raising crops
out of which all life
Where the light falls
where the rain too
growth under ground
and in the air
that sustains us all
John Lyons
Poet and lover
The poet and the lover
are never idle—between
thoughts and feelings
there may be a short
rest from time to time
just as in a musical score
the pregnant pause—one
is or one isn’t—just
as one does Words moved
by the heart and mind
the dance of syllables
on the tip of the tongue
John Lyons
Corrected from earlier post
Rocks and stones
Rocks and stones :
sun beating down
small fry pursued
by ravenous birds
The iron in my blood
is innocent : it feeds
on the fat of the land
All good things
out of the earth
oxygen out of the air
the impulse to breathe
to shape life into words
and words into life
To give praise
where due
the taste of beauty
on my tongue
the warm breeze
on my cheeks
dandelion days
when we carried
our dust across
the Brooklyn Bridge
John Lyons
Henri Matisse
Matisse, John Lyons (40 x 40 cm, oil on canvas)
Blue is
the colour
With one leap
and a bound
Matisse entered
the room
Matisse means
movement
John Lyons
Two pigeons
I’m sitting in the sun
leisurely
watching two pigeons perform
synchronised flying : their wings
almost touching : their wings
never touching
Such perfect control at every
sudden twist and turn : as
though they had trained
for days for months : or
ever since birth : impossible
to know their age : or whether
before they completely
found their wings they were
ever clumsy : bumping into
each other in awkward flight
I’m sitting in the garden
sun beating on my face
wondering why the rest of us
make such hard work
of moving around
each other
John Lyons
johnjosephlyons 