I will go to the ocean
feel the breath of it on my face
and breathe in unison with it
and the sun will rise
with all its fierce energy
and will scorch the sand
which I call sea-dust
and I will tread gingerly on it
so that my feet scarcely suffer
and I’ll admire the frigate birds
that ply the waves just off-shore
how patiently they fish for shadows
and at night I’ll count the stars
that have tracked me
and all I ever loved since birth
John Lyons
Simplified, John Lyons (40 x 40 cm, oil on canvas)
My hands tanned
mottled and freckled
have aged but not grown old
an absurdity I know
but it is as if
for reasons unknown
they have been spared
the ravages of time
I observe them
this way and that
hold them up
to the light
relieved that they are
still fit for purpose
secure too in the knowledge
that neither the right
nor the left one
will ever betray me
John Lyons
Breath and pulse
the warm flesh
the light in her eyes
the laughter on her lips
and a poet skilled
in the sacrament of praise
a champion of life
around whom
wild winds spin
and oceans lap
at shifting sands
and willows are
whipped by the rain
and time weaves
its eternal mysteries
: beauty
that is momentary
in the mind
frail as the tissue
of poppy blooms
torn on the briar’s thorns
a sparrow’s song
a robin bobbing
on the garden fence
a dragonfly that hovers
over the shallow pond
how soon our summers
are spent
our loves
never so
John Lyons
On my walk through the park
I notice that the shadows
of the trees themselves have aged
I inspect the corrugated bark
the deep lines on trunk and branch
how time never passes without
leaving an indelible mark
on all things and I marvel at
the wisdom of oak and sycamore
so closely adherent
to the monastic virtue
of stability
If all things pass some do so
at a slower pace than others
so I am content to discount
my dog years and I gaze
defiantly into the mirror—
what is beautiful is perhaps
an acquired taste : I adore
the innocence and energy
of young children who skip
along the paths of their childhood
I know that in time age will
bend their shadows too
that ash and elm will outlive them
that their dreams for a while
will touch the golden moon
until gravity brings them down
to the level earth but that their hearts
will never be still
John Lyons
Say that our bodies are beautiful
in the radiance of sunlight
our flesh still warm with the love
we bring to the day
how the regal flow of blood
sets our cheeks aglow
and how we are insatiable for life
As the flower’s beauty is inseparable
from the sum of its parts
each particle plays its part in our being
our intelligence a beacon
amid the arcane mysteries
of cosmos and creation :
how age degrades all things bar love
so that we have nothing to fear
from the edge of the night
nor the silence of daybreak
as long as there is breath on our lips
John Lyons
Corrected text
Strip away the intricacies
of appearance
strip away the complexities
of the world
and live in the simplicity
of the moment
Though we are born
into the nucleus of time
we outgrow it as we move
deeper into love
and learn to revel
in all its enchantments
In love we no longer live
in the silence of self
and every kiss given
and every kiss received
reverberates
down the generations
as a natural truth
There is nothing to own here
but everything to be —
triumphant in the abandonment
of all that is false and pointless :
just as we respect the oak
and the sycamore let us admire
the deep roots of enduring love
John Lyons
History – dead time
a past buried
in a chromatic wilderness
a burnt match floating
in a greasy pool
of rainwater
an old hair
on an old pillow case
Be minimum
with your words
in your actions
resolve to move forward
to write new texts
in a world
of warmth and affection
the past is scribble
of fret and fear and fate
beyond absolution
Be minimum
cut to the quick
courage and conviction –
angels will appear
on the edge of night
by day they will mingle
with crows and sparrows
foxes will pay allegiance
She who is not worthy
will lose her way
be lost forever –
exercise discretion
: in the forgetting
there is forgiveness –
be minimum
say no more
John Lyons
Put aside the sad smell of lilacs
and words that spread outwards
to smother the truth of solitude
Beneath this deep eggshell blue
all manner of things might appear
chance and happy circumstance
all that is about to be written
Breathe freedom
an absence of objects
a spacious peace in which
our innate nature may flourish
here is horizon and novelty
made from pigments that arise
out of the earth’s core
We are in the time of roses
we hunger for the nightingale’s song
we who for so long have clutched
at the elements of life
and yet for every failed ambition
for every dashed dream
a single wisdom has sheltered us
and that is that wordless love
articulates the last intelligence
John Lyons
Critical light
immaterial time
the distance
between
two objects
the universe
a play on light
without which
no beauty
imagination
the mind’s eye
a play on words
or colours
or textures
or dimensions
multiples of three
the poet
who was
of three minds
a blackbird
a field of snow
notes slung
across an empty
stave
peace
is the absence
of darkness
love is
omnipresence
the measure
of all things
the sparrow
and the lily
what is done
in the darkness
critical light
all the love
that radiates
outwards
in the end
she may come round
it all takes time
Rome was not built
in a day
you ask
how many times
must we repeat
I reply
until we get it
right
John Lyons
There is unity
and there is particularity
a universe put together
from a handful of building blocks
There is the sky and the sea
and swallows come and go
filling our latitude with
their grace and beauty
without ever overstaying
their welcome
And she who sings in the dark
whose voice is heard in my soul
whose unembittered gestures trace
patterns of affection in my life
a summer without end
a body drawn from the dust of stars
whole and intemperate in her passion
the sound of love present
in every articulation
she strides daily into my life
John Lyons
johnjosephlyons 