north to rome – by pd lyons from Morning Movies

we took the train north to Rome
started with sweat and bullets
wishing for a better meal next stop
village by village dust bells along
following the steady steel rhythm

hours drift lulling with common motion
 landscapes we have come to know
keep pace as we imagined
being closer than we ever were
before leaving

Reggio Calabria


Tiananmen Square, Two Poems by Davyne Verstandig read by PD Lyons

So the other day sorting out book shelves and come across a 1990 Magazine called Hobo Jungle ~ a Quarterly Journal of New Writing. It was published by Ruth Boeger/ Marc Erdich in Roxbury Ct. The reason I still have it? Well they were one of the first to publish my work and the very first to send me a check for my poetry. In fact I’m sure I still have a xerox copy of that check in some box some where in then house. Any way the point is flipping through I cam across a striking piece of work which led me to look up the poet and write asking if I could reprint their work here and so with permission of this very fine artist I will blog the 2 poems and give some links to their bio and website. The first one is in my opinion a perfection of the micro~dot poem. Ruthlessly elegant and mercilessly immersed in reality. The short poem is almost impossible to be read out loud and remain effective although I’ll give it a go along with the other piece further on but first read it silently out loud to yourself. Thank you for your time.

IMG-1487 (1)

IMG-1488 (1)


Davyne Verstandig

Davyne Verstandig was a lecturer in English and Creative Writing at the University of Connecticut. (retired June 2020 after 25 years.)

Her books include two books of poetry, Pieces of the Whole and Provisions and her work appears in Sex and Sexuality in a Feminist World, Songs of the Marrow BoneWhere Beach Meets OceanThis One Has No Name, The Monday Poets, and the forth coming anthology with an introduction by Margaret Gibson, CT Poet Laureate, Waking Up to the Earth, Connecticut Poets in a Time of Global Climate Crisis.

She has also performed improvisational work “composing on the tongue” painting and poetry at The Knitting Factory and Housing Works Café in New York City and given readings throughout New England.

She gives writing workshops at Wisdom House Retreat Center in Litchfield, CT. and at Camp Washington Episcopal Retreat Center in Morris, Ct.

She is Poet Laureate Emerita of Washington and is a Justice of the Peace. She can be found at She is a writing consultant.

Books available on Amazon, some at The Hickory Stick Bookshop, Washington, Ct.
Pieces of the Whole – poetry
Provisions- poetry
Sex and Sexuality if a Feminist World
This One Has No Name 
The Monday Poets
Laureates of Connecticut, An Anthology of Contemporary Poetry
Waking Up to the Earth, Connecticut Poets in a Time of Global Climate Crisis

In this hard Rocky Earth/ #pd lyons #poetry #stonework #wildroses #fore #westmeath #ireland


In this hard rocky earth

what have our bones become

what nourished creatures by our flesh alive

as if we really immortal

thought our marked stones  be cared for

remembered only by the wind


Fore,County Westmeath

Bridget Shields Rose

Bridget Shields Rose

from 2006 notes found in a box today. thanks for stopping by.

Thank You, by PD Lyons, as published by A New Ulster #29



I was very happy that Amos Greig chose this a one of my pieces appearing in the #29 issue of A New Ulster!

Not sure when I first discovered Gabriel. I had known of his existence superficially. I was lent copies  by English majors back in the 80’s I think. Sat on my self til i gave them way. Any way years later – not quite a 100, I discovered/experienced one of the most wonderful artists I would ever know. The lush mystical worlds – the most wonderful novels I have ever read. And I would say that,  English literature was being saved by a man who wrote in Spanish. This is a poem I wrote on occasion of his death and my sitting out the back at my home in rural Ireland in the company of a fine Cuban and an exquisite bourbon…



Thank You

My first cigar of the season
and I think of you Gabriel

I too have my river
like yours but different
although how different can rivers of men really be?

each travels the same
easiest option
easily taken
to the same sea
never stopping

each deals with whatever
is thrown into it
no matter what
only disappearing into the same saline never ending sea

does that sea greet you now
women you have loved and been loved by
comrades of good and not so good words food drink
fine smoke from properly rolled cigars
angels through an unlimited jungle of stainless sky

18 April 2014

for Gabriel García Márquez



Quách Thoại | The afternoons in Vietnam (15)


By Quách Thoại, translation by Nguyễn Thị Phương Trâm


The afternoons in Vietnam


I have the surpassed the afternoons

The afternoons of the past

Always in solitude

Windy and raining

Upon the afternoons in Vietnam

The utter endearment

As for today

I’m here walking(as they say)

Gosh the long tattered walkway

The yellow leaves in the Easterly wind

The sickly figures

The baby beggars

The men

Their bleeding hands

The afternoons of war

The shaken elderly mothers

Frightened by the sound of mill guns

Near is the night

They’re passionately killing each other

Always I will remember

The moments in the afternoon

On Hồng Lĩnh hill

Far far towards the West

Out there in Northern Vietnam

Where my enemy

My compatriots

Killing each other

Gosh what’s more painful than that

Blistered to then hid from each other

Upon the last rites the afternoon returned

Upon Nhị Hà bled

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On Today’s Menu #NK Jemisin #ravens #patience

three ruffs written and read by pd lyons poet 

On Today’s Menu

N K Jemisin



With regards to N. K. Jemisin ~ if you have any love left for the genre do yourself an exquisite favour and indulge immediately in these three fine beauties! intricate, dense without reverting into obtuse and not a cliché in site. I loved every minuet of them. Not since my father gave me Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings have I ever read a trilogy more than once. But now…



Reality Quote By Haruko Ichikawa: “Being clever sometimes…”

or to write poetry

Short Wisdom

I hope you enjoyed this. And remember: Sharing is caring!

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Trần Duy Trung | S h u n (1)


by Trần Duy Trung, translation by Nguyễn Thị Phương Trâm

S h u n



last night a stranger

crept into my dreams


stood in front of a house the year I was ten

like a tree, silent


stood in front of a field, where there’s a grave of a man

the green grass of twenty years ago


in the dark eyes deep as the forest

shaking in bouts of fever


he cried

the tears


fell on my cheeks

as I wake.


L ư u Đ à y



đêm qua một kẻ lạ mặt

đã lẻn vào giấc ngủ của tôi


đứng trước căn nhà năm tôi mười tuổi

như một cái cây im lặng


đứng trước cánh đồng, nơi nấm mộ một người đàn ông

cỏ xanh từ hai mươi năm trước


trong đôi mắt thẳm sâu…

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#halloween #witches #haunted # written & read by pd lyons. featuring Lucinda


No matter what name of god they go by ~


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