Sweet William

Sweet William

The flower of the gods
           born into the palm
of my hand
           today stripped
of your beard
           prostrate
searching for
           the sense of it all

on that day
           the world changed
with your smile
           with your laughter
with the light
           in your eyes
bearded flower
           of the gods
those gods
           that walk among us
that breathe our air
           and feed on our food

on that day
           colours came
reds and blues and pink
           and greens and yellows
on the edges of the fields
           in the scrubland
where wormword grew
           on that day
you smelt of birth
           and thrashed
your tiny limbs
           and in my hands
I felt the warmth
           of your innocence
and loved you
           as I do today

John Lyons

Advertisements

Forgotten wars

Forgotten wars

Nobody cries
over the death
of fallen leaves

Nobody cries
over the death
of those who fall
in distant wars
the innocent cut down
by remote control
Nobody sees their faces
or knows their names
or really cares at all

Nobody cries
over the death
of fallen leaves
knowing that spring
will bring renewal

Nobody cries
over the death
of those who fall
in distant wars
though they are
gone forever

John Lyons

Apple and orange

Apple_orange

Apples and orange, by John Lyons

Apple and orange

What have we here
           a painting of three
two alike and one non
           representing
the fruit of life :
           nothing concords
with art
           and words
are not replicas
           the paint is unique
neither good nor bad
           just of itself

as is love
           neither one thing
nor another
           merely itself
and there is texture
           and feinted shadows
and a ripeness
           that goes to the core
but this is life
           apples and orange
trying to capture life
           availing itself
of the materials to hand
           love that extemporizes
that is love
           that exists beyond
the realm of times
           love that shifts its shape
and its complexion
           but is always original

because repetition
           is a myth created
by Plato since there is
           nothing old under the sun
and love is evolution
           and constant innovation
and art couldn’t care less
           or give a damn
for anything else
           except love

John Lyons

 

Theatricals

Theatricals

The act of being
           all the theatre
all the parts we play
           the intricate intrigues
the comedy and tragedy
           our lives are staged
upon so many prosceniums
           the lines we recall
and those long forgotten
           role of leading man
of leading lady
           the words we live
and breathe
           words words words

John Lyons

The creator

The creator

He who creates
           he or she
creates their day
           fills the hours
with flowers
           with bright words
with hope and love
           acts in accordance
with the needs
           and necessities
of others
           including himself
including herself
           gives praise
where it is due
           to birdsong
and to blue skies
           to amenable
currents of air
           and to fair tides
sees beauty
           in all things
and loves every
           vital breath of life

John Lyons

Muscular modulations

Muscular modulations

From those early days
           the canes soaked in water
until supple
           then inserted
one spoke at a time
           into the holes
around the rim
           of the round wooden base
where they are firmly plaited
           one reed under another
ready for the sides
           to be woven

Handicraft : everything
           that is man-made
the mind-word
           that puts the hand
to work
           We who rise up
from the base of the land
           turn our minds
to manufacture
           to form and to shape
and to put our environment
           to work
Solar energy
           grass-fed or otherwise
creating and constructing
           The light made us
the mind turned the hand
           to good use

John Lyons

Bridges

Bridges

It really is
all about bridges
building them
not burning them
nor being afraid
to cross them
nor getting left behind
on the wrong side :
there is no such thing
as a bridge too far
A bridge is
a horizontal door
laid down between
two locations

John Lyons