wallace stevens

The intelligence of trees

irlandesuk art, poetry
tree.jpg
Tree, John Lyons (oil on wood)

The intelligence of trees

Wallace refers to the intelligence of trees
the famed tree of knowledge is related
the thing that grows organically
and the metaphors that we may apply
the roots that reach so deep into the earth
the branches that reach constantly for the sky
the leaves that burst from buds in spring
that bring delight in the summer until
in the autumn they fall as all things fall
the rings of age that mark the wood
the gnarled bark of ancient specimens
the shade under which lovers lounge
the stillness of time until the wind rises

John Lyons

The surface of things

irlandesuk poetry ,

The surface of things

The beautiful surface of things
           life in all its infinite detail
and in all its glory
           the capacity to articulate
to put two and two together
           the chalk hills
of the North Downs
           at present covered
in pure white snow
           where pure white lambs
will graze unknowingly
           in days to come in spring

the rich hue and cry of life
           lived and held
in the conscious mind
           assembled in our language
a world built word by word
           and recalled word for word
just as our love grows
           accumulating acts of affection
mutual and stored
           in the necessary memory
of living words :
           there was a wedding feast
at which the water
           became wine and filled
the imagination
           as all art does in changing
the face of the earth
           in its becoming

John Lyons

The mind takes a break

irlandesuk poetry , ,

The mind takes a break

When I am lost
           for words to write
I reach for the poems
           of Wallace Stevens
and allow my mind
           to drift in his obsessions
two figures in the dark night
           the voice of the moment
and the place in which
           he has Florida in his ear
and always the singularity
           of the eye that builds
from what it sees
           a world of the imagination

I think of his restless fingers
           and his rule of thumb :
say it and it shall be
           the conceiving words
from which he constructs
           a composite of reality

Below Key West
           there’re stars I’ve never seen
and on the roof of a rusty barn
           there are buzzards
crouched in anticipation
           there are palm trees
etched against the blue-black sky
           and there is a full moon
with nothing to reveal
           other than itself
Finally there is the sea
           sleeping in silence in the bay
and this silence I tell you 
           is such a welcome serenade

John Lyons

Notes towards . . .

irlandesuk poetry

Notes towards . . .

In the uncertain light
       some certainties
the passage of time
       the coming and going
of the seasons
       youth followed hopefully
by the wisdom of age
       and a little less ignorance
hell receding as the heavens
       come a little closer
less fear of fear
       and life refreshed
in the commerce
       of words and the truth
of poetry and belief
       in the purity of love

John Lyons

Blackberry and apple

irlandesuk poetry

Blackberry and apple

I noticed that the blackberries
on the canes in the garden
are almost ripe for picking

Blackberry and apple pie
was one of my favourites
when I was a boy

In those days I knew
nothing of poetry
but I was an expert
when it came to judging
blackberry and apple pies

I understand that I am
the world in which I walk
can debate whether
it is nobler or not but would
honestly kill for a decent
blackberry and apple pie

John Lyons

Snowstorm

irlandesuk poetry

Snowstorm

The beauty of what is
or the beauty
of what’s about to be 
fully-fledged
or new-born

the rose that is
about to droop
or the tight bud
bursting with energy ?

a single flake falling
or a field covered in snow
and the roving eye
of the blackbird
the only thing seen
in that entire scene

and the fact
as Wallace tells us
that poetry
is all in the mind

John Lyons

Imaginations

irlandesuk poetry

Imaginations

Of course poetry may dwell
on the surface of things
but words are not surfaces
and their significance
runs deeper than we might
in reality imagine 

the unblemished rose
is one thing
and the imagined world
quite another

poetry is the magnificent
cause of being

and if at all
we only ever exist
in the reality
of the imagination
and beauty is
what is taken
to the heart

John Lyons

London marathon

irlandesuk poetry ,

London marathon

Thousands of men
           and women and children
crossing a bridge
           all ages all shapes all sizes
all faiths all creeds
           every denomination
and of every ability
           crossing a single bridge
one end to the other
           of a finite bridge
the clump of their feet
           on the boards of the bridge
and on the sidelines
           thousands urging them on
the air thick with their
           cheers and their applause
life from one end
           to the other

John Lyons

A meditation on number

irlandesuk poetry , ,

A meditation on number

Isn’t it hard to imagine
a universe with less stars

say a few thousand at most
and less planets and moons

in an outer space more akin
to our own intimate world

a cosmos of homely proportions
one we can get our head around

and yet as I look across the fields
I see birds coming and going

in their hundreds flitting
from tree to tree or cackling ducks

following the path of the winding river
swarms of swallows weaving through

the summer air feeding on a froth
of all but invisible aphids

and in all things there is the plethora
of plenty and only I am alone

John Lyons