winter workshop
So
unsettled
grey rains across the lake
even the fire duller now
as if unable to breath the airless air of your absence
not the anxiety of waiting
not the impatience of worry
something though stranger
knowing not wondering
your absence has no remedy
Moved things around for winter working this morning. a good hard stormy night into an equally rainy day. a long yoga mediation session, then down to the kitchen get a soup on for shelly, her favourite carrot (of course) this time even i liked the result. usually cant stand the stuff. move from the kitchen HQ to the front room. set up ‘puter and such. dog and cat each tucked up in their own separate armchairs. poked around on the emails, checked some new potential publishers but pretty restless un focussed for that so did some writing, a little example of something fresh is printed above. shelly got home for lunch, happy to have a hot soup and a fire. Calliope Nerve did put up two of my poems thanks for that!
http://calliopenerve.blogspot.com/search/label/PD%20Lyons
Pensioners Remiss
When I wanted to see you
Young and available Dresses out amidst a blue jean wasteland Stoned as laughing smoky charms Dancing at any moment unannounced On the steps of Spanish little Harlem Turquoise as your eyes church doors Sacramental wine just open A spiral of possibilities each as believable as the past When I wanted to see you Roads wide open looking to ride Strong as summer sweat Muscles love like horses into sunset Diamonds across that midnight sky lived only in your fuck me eyes. Breathless barefoot pirouette octagon tiles Limitless kitchens by dull Frigidaire ice cold India ales Fast as you can drink ‘em Back porch third floor dawn Aegean blue Away among a city of fearlessness When I wanted to see you Saint Johns Christmas balsam scented crushed blood velvet Crystal singers choir of angels Mysterious as snow the mouth you used For me an accent of hypnosis lead like sorrow obsessed with green as if summer surfaced between live pines And the first breasts I ever saw You stripped for the reservoir My hands held showing me to cup each one instead When I wanted to see you So much more so than Where ever you were So much sooner than now ---------------------------------------------------------------
Fuckin Bukowski
Idiot me picks now
6000 miles away at 52
To discover him
Still glad I didn’t stay in Waterbury
Find him sooner
Probably still be pukeing
Out in the after last call
Parking lot of now what am I gonna do
Or else back in jail
Or else still with one of the xes
Or else not even alive
~
Tonight just had a chicken and ham sandwich on rye
And its sometime after midnight
And I’ll probably still be up @ 6 maybe half 6
Do some yoga make coffee for the wife
Bring it to her in bed
Get some pancakes going for the kid
And be happy to do so
~
No not envious
Not regretful
Rather peaceful
Glad to be out of it
That’s the kind of poet I’m happy to live with
Now.
ever onward something goes
Last night started to read Morgan a new story before bed time. we sat by the fire on the sofa for this, i had read it to her a few years back but she didnt remember until we got to the door : round painted bright shiny green with a brass door knob in the middle –
Oh yeah! says Mor, the green door I remember that! So we read the Hobbit by the fire – up til 10pm school night and all! forgot the time i did. a timeless story after all! My daddy gave me the lord of the rings – how many years ago? i was probably 13 or so. any way morg remembers the green door. weird what stays with us. looks like we just like Bilbo have an adventure coming our way. shellys interviews with employers in the states go well. one offer already being formalised and sent to her for consideration. exciting. must be good to be recognised by your professional peers as being “just what we’re looking for” opportunity beckons. America, hopefully a little different from our last go. at least it’s not Bushmerica, as much. all the ghosts that wait for me though. thank god I got a buddha nature. om
