Good Friday, Europe’72, Grateful Dead Yoga, by pd lyons

grateful dead good friday yoga

Pdlyons's Explorations

so i was 18 years old,  living in my first apartment – a vast five rooms with appliances 180.00 including heat hot water and electricity! my friend John  comes over. its sometime in daylight. we must a blown a joint or two cause that’ s what we did then. anyway he has this grateful dead album, in those vinyl  days it was on three LPs. Europe ’72. of course i knew about the dead, heard bits n pieces on the radio and randomly a house parties, but never really followed. But this was great grateful dead stuff. some of my most favorite pieces of music – the china cat/know you rider, sugar magnolia. Course as we did in those days we played things over and over and sang along. we particularly got stuck on Tennessee Jed – mostly because it had an easy enough chorus. I still remember though John…

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poems and photos by pd lyons published by clockwise cat issue 36 “Skullwise Cat”

Pdlyons's Explorations

scorpion night



In a still night

No moon softening

Sharp stars

No cloud drapery.

Against this midnight

The night mares move

Sharing colour with the darkness.

What cannot find them is found by them,

There are no ways secret:

Spiraling stars leave every sky familiar,

Foraging herds by trails of green weeds

Breach every underwater sanctuary.

The night mares

Sleep standing up;

Contain any stallion,

Give birth in the middle of any weather,

Can knock bones, eyes, or internal organs out of any creature.

Simply by their passing

Men have been sucked breathless.

The night mares

Know where dragons come from,

And who, mothered by seas and singing desert sands,

The twin birthed are.

In languages that the thunder knows,

They answer one another.

Navigating easily unbridled,

No boundary deludes them.

Yielding, the only response they know.


this first appeared in print in Searches…

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Dreams on my Pillow.

lemanshots - Fine Pictures and Digital Art


Designed and created by Josephine R. Unglaub.

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liberation from suffering is a DIY situation

suffering comes from the erroneous belief in what is not true and striving to maintain that as truth. suffering is a delusion but like a dream it can still cause fear which in turn causes more delusion more suffering. dealing with fear the antidote of which is awareness of the truth, that’s the process of becoming free from suffering. what is true?

for starters how about this – everyone who has ever lived has or will die. this includes everyone you  know including yourself. that is truth. that’s the beginning of liberation – sitting with that for a while. seeing if that causes you more or less suffering than not contemplating it. See if there is a way to sit with that truth without it being a cause of suffering? can you? does it?

give yourself no preconceived notion. give yourself the space and time to sit with the truth, your truth and see what its like for you.

as the saying goes – Food off another’s  spoon will not nourish your wisdom.

In other-words accept no spoon fed answers. challenge all belief assessing their truth through your own self. liberation from suffering is a DIY situation.



thanks for the inspiration sorry about the preach. cheers.



No passion is stronger…

For Much Deliberation

“No passion is stronger in the breast of a man than the desire to make others believe as he believes. Nothing so cuts at the root of his happiness and fills him with rage as the sense that another rates low what he prizes high.”
― Virginia Woolf, Orlando

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For Ursula – P.D. Lyons

cats in bras

I had to write
One poem which took
Thousands of years to
Write, thousands of years
To translate and thousands
Of years to be delivered
To dragons who
Took a thousand years
To read it out loud
So it was only after many lives
That I finally heard
The last word
But by then
No longer believing in dragons it made no sense.

Tenía que escribir
Un poema que duró
Miles de años en
Escribir, miles de años
En traducir y miles
De años en llegar
A dragones que
Tardaron mil años
En leerlo en voz alta
Así ocurrió sólo después de muchas vidas
Al fin oí
La última palabra
Pero entonces
No creyendo más en dragones ya no tenía sentido.

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I am dead already by pd lyons

Pdlyons's Explorations

red glass bowl w/ holland tomatoes on a black slate red glass bowl w/ Holland tomatoes on a black slate on a green table

I am dead already

~ So

there is nothing really to worry about

~ Although sometimes i still forget

think of myself as living

things to do

places to go

achievement’s to achieve

people to please and all

eventually i come around

focus by saying

” you don’t have to”

usually that’s enough to brig me back to what is

~ Other times,

especially if i have forgotten for maybe days,

years, occasionally decades

it takes stuff a little stronger not much though, you know

just say out loud to my so called self;

“you are already dead “

 helps me relax

brigs me round to that expansive place of what is

a pleasant space of truth

red bowl glass red bowl glass

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we can also intend to have a society free from slaughter.


the choice is to do nothing or to do something about this problem. the Florida students have inspired the most activity and attention to this issue in decades. there is a big problem with gun death in America. it needs to be addressed. the first step is acknowledging that the current situation is not healthy. that doing nothing about it will not help. and for those who say that law changes would not prevent more deaths or past deaths – that is the lamest argument of all. since murders aren’t prevented by law should we strike the law from the books? a law is a statement of intent. the intentions of a society are framed in law. we intend to have a society free from murder. we can also intend to have a society free from slaughter.


This Morning On The Back Steps Sobbing Into Her Nightgown by pd Lyons

In the language of flowers

It meant good-bye with regrets


Left on the kitchen table

An emptied cup of coffee

half-eaten slice of toast


Hardly a hesitation

Picks up the toast

Held away between thumb and finger

Some dead thing she didn’t wish to touch


Steps out

Leans against the wood rail

As far as possible the offending slice

Tossed into the garden


As she does the wind

slams the door behind her

Startled but then relief,

Its off the latch…

As if somehow he’d known…



Fallen Lilies by pd lyons


We will surround you with silence

Like the voices of our children never to be heard again


We will surround you with fallen lilies

Like each of one our children cut mid bloom


We won’t ever know what to do

With a hypocrite’s thoughts and prayers

We won’t ever find anything

In a hypocrite’s concern for our grief


But we’ll not match the hardness of such hearts

By hardening our own

We will not meet such hearts with violence

We know too well that path of sorrow


So, we will meet you in silence

Like the voices of our children never to be heard again

We will meet you in fallen lilies

Like each one of our children cut mid bloom


Unlike you

We will do what must be done


Unlike you

We will remember and continue to find days to be thankful for


Mothers rocking babies rocking mothers

Fathers rocking babies rocking fathers



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