Kicking back my heels

Kicking back my heels

Today’s stars say
that I should do nothing
that I should relax
that I’ve been working
too hard and that I need
to take a break
to chill out
let time off the leash
and hang loose
not get worked up
about a single thing

today’s stars say
that I’m at risk
of burnout
that I’ve been pushing
myself too hard
taking life too seriously
working my fingers
to the bone
and that I need
to learn a little
Latin mañana
so I will

John Lyons

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Turner’s time

Origins
Origins, John Lyons (oil on canvas)

Turner’s time

Time of itself
           no significant changes
my time is not your time
           we each carry our own load
I could even say lode
           Time and what you make of it
the wish to change
           and the will to change
the energies that we apply
           to the process of change
or stasis
           and time-resistance
no wish and no will
           to change and each year
as the year before
           and life a constant
duplication of the previous
           or do I repeat myself
the steps we take
           that you and I take
to renew and refresh
           to break through
the time-barrier
           Turner on Margate beach
sand under his feet
           sailed through time
applied fire to his canvas
           held eternity at bay
if only for a while
           all for his art

John Lyons

Star breath

Star breath

Love is not over
           love that comes
with soft touch
           and gentle words
love is not over
           The eyes search
and the hands reach
           and all the senses
are alive in expectation
           Love’s sweet perfume
fills the air
           thrills the heart
is there in the memory
           of what will always be
wholesome love
           that delights
in the pleasure
           of another
The simplicity of love
           defies the convoluted
beauty of roses
           the levity of butterflies
it is the life-breath of stars :
           No — love is not over

John Lyons

A seasonal dirge

A seasonal dirge

The slow drizzle at daybreak
condensation on the skylight

the wet roofs of houses
and the stillness and the silence

The words that are a poem
of themselves their syllables

evoking a moment and a mood
: the actor who aged into the role

of King Lear his face a rough
wasteland of stubbled flesh

September with its misty tableaux
its clouds of ghosts its muffled sounds

a pronounced change in the air
the wilds the storm the wintry night

John Lyons

The dissatisfied soul

The dissatisfied soul

Ever undiscouraged
          resolute
the soul struggles
          grapples with the mystery
of all earth’s ages
          old and new
eyes and ears
          eager
but the soul ever dissatisfied
          curious
but unconvinced
          the same struggle
the same battle
          down the years
leaves of grass
          in the searing wind

John Lyons

 

Cutting back

Cutting back

Red-tinged clouds
          and the light fading fast
From my window a flat
          two-dimensional landscape
Crows cawing en route to their nests
          I wonder where that might be

Evening settles in
          calms my mind
the day’s concerns laid aside
          for the day

Wind is forecast
          several blustery days
to shake down the trees
          Autumn leaves : year after year
the same patterns repeated
          The harvests are in
the bare earth tilled
          orchards heavy
with apple and pear
          waiting to be picked

John Lyons


Today’s poem is an edited version of a poem posted yesterday evening