Outside the day is clear and blue and trees
are gently dancing in the wind I move
a book on my desk It leaves an imprint
of earthy dust as each of us will do
in time Time gentlemen please Júlio
Harold Ernesto Carlos their warm breath
gone the way of the world : and Pamela
who called herself
a piece of painted dirt
Footsteps over the rainy cobblestones
on a street in Vienna Beethoven
playing the Moonlight Sonata in my
imagination Ladies dusting off
their ball gowns and powdering their noses
Ted asks where are
the snows of yesteryear?
John Lyons
Vienna
Words from the fragrant portal
Words from the fragrant portal
So the demarcations
of day and night
of here and now
or there
or there
of now and again
the rise and fall
of empires
as it always was
and will be
and love parading
through the streets
of Vienna
strolling hand in hand
under the dark
moonless sky
love in which the body
is taken to its limits
overreaches itself
pours into another
so that it is neither
he nor she
words against the silence
breath against extinction
life and death
universe without limit
time a mere drop
in the ocean
John Lyons
This is a quiet poem
This is a quiet poem
This is a quiet poem
: it’s New Year’s Day
and the streets are silent
the party’s over
the birds are relaxing
in their respective nests
there’s virtually no traffic
It’s as though
the previous twelve months
have been erased
the world is giving itself
a chance to freshen up
Lovers repeat their vows
their promises and stare
into each other’s eyes
It’s the newborn year
it doesn’t wish
to be disturbed
There are expectations
of peace and a resolution
to all conflicts
This is a quiet poem
and I’m sitting here
in Vienna awaiting
the orders that only I
can give myself
I love the sound
of certain voices
and their silence too
I love the gentleness
of the day and the ease
with which my lungs
fill with air and empty
each time I take
a deep breath
John Lyons
With corrections
Down by the Danube
Down by the Danube
On that glorious day in June
we cycled along the banks
of the Danube
alongside its blue waters
where swans swam in groups
waters bound for Hungary
and beyond into Ukraine
and the Black Sea
For a while we rode together
but you knew the way
and you headed off alone
and were soon out of sight
I thought you would turn back
or wait for me to catch up
but you didn’t and I never did
and I never have
John Lyons
Vienna’s Love Cemetery
Vienna’s Love Cemetery
Here is the place
where the stone fell
silent as the grave
Here love died
along with the music
and the laughter
and was laid to rest
No longer legible
the letters carved
in sandstone
all flaking
all gone to dust
The once living
body of love
gone to dust
every sweet kiss
gone to dust
all time to dust
John Lyons
Time’s petty pace
Time’s petty pace
Tomorrow and tomorrow
etched in the mind
the word that appeared nightly
above that building
on the corner
of Mariahilferstrasse
Neon strips
letter by letter
illuminating the word
until complete
and so it remains
for a minute or so
before vanishing
into the dense darkness
of the Hapsburg capital
only to repeat
At times
thick white cloud
hangs from the horns
of the moon
Tomorrow and tomorrow
time creeps its petty pace
until first light of day
and the deed is done
John Lyons
Vienna’s past participles
Vienna’s past participles
The lesson is
that we are all history
history in the making
and that one day
we will be history
our acts finally over
and our achievements
hung out to dry
Empires fall
and the palaces and gardens
become curiosities
the days of grandeur long over
the vast imperial buildings
with their tall colonnades
and endless emblems
of power and authority
are empty relics
of the past
and everywhere you go
classical white statues depicting
every imaginable motif
creating a mythic atmosphere
and it is as though
it was all intended to recreate
a past in which once upon a time
it might have been noble to live
John Lyons
Vienna’s Stephansdom
Vienna’s Stephansdom
How to read
the intricacies of faith
chiselled into pale stone
every plane every angle
and in the cool silent shadows
weary emblems of ecstatic energy
of saintly narratives
and terrifying passions
The names in the inscriptions
gradually fading into dust
the corrosive way
of the world
of all life
humbled by death
What persists
is the belief
and something of the love
the kiss that outlives
the tears
the cross borne with a smile
Through the towering spire
cold winds whisper
and in the square below
the carriage wheels grind
and hard hooves resound
on the worn cobblestones
Yes a monument
to the warmth of fellowship
to a common purpose
expressed in dying crafts
an overwhelming art in which
the devil is in the detail
John Lyons
St Stephen’s Vienna
St Stephen’s Vienna
The intricacies of faith
the cool silent shadows
all things seen
from every angle
emblematic art
the pleasure and the pain
the terrifying passion
the beauty of it all
Towering spires through which
the wind whispers
a message that reaches
into the depths of the soul
a monument to craft
to guilds and fellowship
to a belief fixed
on unshifting foundations
decor decorum decoration
all the outward signs
gathered under one roof
the devil in the detail
John Lyons
Rothko unmasked
Rothko unmasked
Behind every mask
there is a portrait
behind every portrait
there is a mask
sometimes the light
blinds us to the darkness
sometimes the darkness
reveals the light
Rembrandt knew this
Rothko felt this
we can see this
in Vienna’s great
museum
if we want
John Lyons
johnjosephlyons 