poetry

The first duty

irlandesuk poetry

The first duty

The first duty
            is to honour
the love we share
            to kiss and make up
to make amends
            for words unsaid
for deeds undone
            and hurt unmeant

Eternity condenses
            into kisses into smiles
into songs of innocence
            and experience
The first duty
            is to put the past
to bed
            to rise
with the lark
            to step away
from blindness
            and raise a glass
to trust
            in love

John Lyons

 

Fruit of the stars

irlandesuk poetry ,

Fruit of the stars

A sky
            full of snowflakes
obscures the stars but
            from their hydrogen
and their oxygen
            comes water
a marriage made
            in a molecule

Yes
            fruit of the stars
and chain of constant
            resurrection
that for which
            we were born
moving within the light
            at rest within the shade
a temperate life
            capable of noble deeds
energized from before
            the moment of conception
and measured against
            the inspirations of time
and judged
            by our capacity to love

Love
            that supreme fiction 
poetry of all that’s made
            bonds of flesh
bound in words and intoned
            in tender hymns
to our humanity
            cherished thoughts
that elate the heart
            and fire passion
in our blood until we attain
            the proud pangs of paradise

John Lyons

Revised

Undiminished

irlandesuk poetry

Undiminished

Is there anything more
            that you and I will do
other than live our
            silent separation
our flesh dumbed down
            shattered the rose of beauty
that we once shared
            the tower truly broken
the land laid waste
            with weed and briar
rife where the garden
            once stood

Is nothing to be learned
            from living breath
no lesson to be drawn
            from seasons past

Say rather
            that all is there
subdued but deeply held
            love poised to bud again
to spring into open space
           fresh leaf for all time

John Lyons

Disbelief

irlandesuk poetry

Disbelief

Slow ebb of life
            snow falling
ice melting
            all bound for the ocean
drift of cosmic debris
            chaff in the wind
our footprints erased
            from Margate sands

Disbelief
            that nothing held her
beyond a day’s pleasure
            the memory unscathed
the sediment of tiny
            shreds of existence
strewn across the beach
            the day to day
driven out to sea
            by the rush of time
Stars beneath which
            the wind moans
the howl of foxes
            filling empty dreams

John Lyons

 

More than words

irlandesuk poetry

More than words

Better silent
            if there be no words
to move the heart
            to action

Starfall
            in the night sky
tears of light
            all things cosmos
all things process
            So the fingers move
in fine traceries
            over her body
delicate acts
            of worship

On these long
            winter evenings
we think
            of nothing else

Memories will
            not sustain us
the parade must
            move forward
before our heels
            die

Her breath
            a counterpoint
to my own
            a harmony
slow to fade
            let’s not make
history
            let’s make love

John Lyons

Magnetic alignment

irlandesuk poetry
floweroffrost
Flower of frost 

Magnetic alignment

The beauty of frail
            flowers of frost
on the window pane
            fine filigree of ice
that will soon melt
            under the morning sun
And I think of love
            of compassed perfection
magnetic alignment
            in which the eyes have it
a tongue-tied love
            that exceeds the night
subsists on the light of stars
            values truth and sincerity
holds the body sacred
            knowing that the flesh
source of all life
            never lies

To lie in the lee of love
            sheltered from time
from the depredation
            of thwarted dreams
that lives in shared decision
            set upon a common path
a sole direction
            that trades not in power
but in tokens of gentleness
            As the wind ruffles
the fresh leaves of trees in spring
            so love stirs the heart’s fibres
its voice never fades
            never fails

John Lyons

How it goes

irlandesuk art, poetry
mood
Mood, John Lyons (oil on canvas)

How it goes

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

The numbers game

irlandesuk poetry , ,

The numbers game

Birth is an instance
            a number after which the ball rolls
one of six but eight in total
            lived at seven but celebrated
three on the twelfth month
            The numbers and what
they amount to
            hours days years
children born
            flights across the Atlantic
How many times in love
            and who now
would want to be
            by my side

I painted her portrait
            decent enough
before she ran off
            with another
Age will not alter
            the lines on that face
and the beauty of her eyes
            will always remain

Poetry too
            measured by numbers
and yet it may halt
            the onslaught of time
so that Lesbia’s beloved sparrow
            will live forever
and Caesar’s resounding victories
            be ever sung

John Lyons

Note: the Roman poet, Gaius Valerius Catullus (c. 84 – c. 54 BC), wrote a lament for the death of his lover’s pet sparrow.

Morning song

irlandesuk poetry

Morning song

Is there
            any quality in life
greater than
            human gentleness
the voice
            the hands
the eyes
            the lips
the consoling gesture
            the soft breath
of lovers
            who take their pleasure
together
            time and time again
faithful
            as the day is long

John Lyons

 

A sense of gratitude

irlandesuk poetry ,

A sense of gratitude

A change in the weather
            drives the gulls inland
once again
            twenty or thirty of them
soaring in wide circles
            above the rooftops

High pressure and the trees
            almost perfectly still
while I sit and read
            and watch and meditate
on the way things are
            thinking and feeling
my way
            through the morning

Reject no one
            and debase nothing
Zukofsky wrote
            : wise words
And I turn my eyes
            to explore the face of the sky

We made a pact
            in Southwark Tavern
to which I hoped
            she would adhere
but those were days
            in which the sun shone
no sign of cloud or rain
            no threat of thunder

Luck has a way of turning
            as we know
though love built on luck
            never lasts
and our love was always
            unequal

Beyond desire our drives
            were different
but for a while we shared
            the very best of ourselves
and for those days
            for that part of the journey
for those happy times
            I give thanks

John Lyons