Let’s be clear
we are of the sun
and our essence
is to shine
we of the bare day
and of the bare night
are of the sun
in our actions
and when we rest
when we speak or
when we are silent
just as angels
so it is said
are modulations
of stars that have
descended to earth
I in her beauty
saw sunlight
and truth and love
her golden coinage
John Lyons
poetry
Love’s betrayal
Landscape, John Lyons (paper collage)
How light moves
among the branches
in late November
when the leaves
have fallen
and how silently
the squirrels move
now that there’s
no foliage to brush
against their tails
for a few months
the treeline fades
into the horizon
and the eye adjusts
to the effects of winter
at night the black sky
fills with stars or
with an icy moon
that shivers
in the cold universe
and so we sleep on
and dream of passion
and long for the rebirth
of daffodils and roses and
an end to love’s betrayal
John Lyons
For the birds
The birds that build
their homes in trees
raise a family
in the balmy days
I wonder how they feel
in autumn when all the leaves
fall leaving nothing but
the bare branches
how exposed and forlorn
in the wind and the rain
homeless and rootless
until spring comes again
John Lyons
At moondusk
Yellowing leaves
against a pale blue sky
a gentle easterly wind
barely enough to chill
the simplicity of sunshine
illuminating all things
Last night at moondusk
I thought of you
your thin auburn hair
your pale skin
your dream-weary eyes
your ungainly beauty
Just now a sparrow sprang
from within a thicket
irrepressible life
each moment lived
as though it were the first
and the last
rough odes hewn
from seamless words
the formalities of the sonnet
and blood that longs
to create so as to proclaim
that through the turbulence
through all the trials
and tribulations nothing
fades from this universe
love least of all
John Lyons
Tsunami of love
Tsunami, John Lyons (acrylic on paper)
There is always something
to pierce through
the heavy greyness of the day
in which mouldering leaves
continue to detach
from the mothership –
time is sand
and leaves and detritus
and irrevocable decay
but it is also opportunity
in which to create a space
for happiness and for love
we should all learn
the sparrow’s song
and keep our eyes open
scouring our line of vision
for the angels who are
always there waiting
to be invited
into our hearts
to be buried
in a deluge of love
is not such a bad thing
I would have thought
John Lyons
Three’s a crowd
Three’s a crowd, John Lyons (acrylic on paper)
We’re all winning
we’re alive
for the time being
I could sit here all day
and count squirrels
running across the tops
of the garden fences
or the coming and going
of magpies and pigeons
sometimes gathering
on the garden furniture
sometimes on the shed roof
or the black and white cat
that pads around
in a world of its own
daydreaming
of something fun to chase
tiny rodents for example
Yesterday a fox
sitting proudly
on a pile of earth
surveying its domain
taking a break
from the family
Today is Sunday
a slow news day –
she might have written
I’d hoped she would
but she didn’t
John Lyons
My words are love
Autumn, John Lyons (acrylic on paper)
a line taken from
a poem by Frank O’Hara
who describes
the stubbornness
of his feelings
that simply won’t
shift no matter what
Is art ever
anything but
an act of love ?
I leave this
to the reader
to figure out
John Lyons
The quality of light
Starleaf, John Lyons (acrylic on paper)
Well here we are
and what are we going to do ?
It’s not as though the questions
ever change just the seasons
that rotate and the leaves fall
and we look each other
in the eye and ask ourselves
how long can this go on ?
And yet we have learned
to read the universe
like a book and we know
that falling leaves
are star fragments
that energy and mass
are bosom buddies
that nothing ventured
is ever lost in the infinite
sum of things and that
love has the quality of light
which never fades
John Lyons
Year ending
That perfect stillness
that silence broken
only by the occasional
plaintiff note of birdsong
the sky grey
the trees on the horizon
in various stages of undress
some leaves turned to gold
others to copper
still others to a green
drained of all life
pollen has been replaced
by dry dust and grime
I hear the drone
of a jet plane lost
in the dense cloud cover
When a heart is broken
it continues to beat
for a while before it dies
when the year is ending
there is always hope
that the next one will be
better in every respect
John Lyons
Falling out
Black winter sky
filled with stars
signature
of the urban universe
and life-long focus
of our gaze
all we ever wished for
from cradle to grave
I am an anthology
of hopes and dreams
I am a timeline
noted all the times
that I have loved
noted all the times
that I have lost
and still the stars
lurking in the cool skies
and I carry
my transparent self
from day to day through
this imponderable world
and bring flowers
when appropriate
warm roses and daffodils
whenever love is in season –
a gondola on the Grand Canal
the ride we never took
together at least
Memories of darkness
and light as the Carnival
exploded before our eyes
You were one of the most
beautiful things in the world
and you put Renaissance art
to shame with your smile
and yet your heart
did not bear scrutiny
and being tentatively in love
you slipped and stumbled
out of it again
John Lyons
johnjosephlyons 