Monthly Archives: November 2017

The Buddha Trees, by pd lyons


Pdlyons's Explorations

 

sometimes autumn is all there is sometimes autumn is all there is

The Buddha Trees

I have escaped.

Finding myself

In a foreign country

Smoking endlessly free tobacco

Finding myself

Only able to sit by this window

Looking at trees

One after the other

I have escaped.

Finding myself

In new running shoes

Safe among strangers

Finding myself

Only able to hear music in my head

La  la la la la   la laaa

A woman’s voice

As if asking,

Could I take up my instrument once more?

As if saying,

Together we could skip through spring once more.

As if trusting the concealment of trees

Had been enough.

.

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We can never obtain peace –The Dalai Lama


We can never obtain peace

We can never obtain peace in the world if we neglect the inner world and don’t make peace with ourselves. World peace must develop out of inner peace. Without inner peace it is impossible to achieve world peace, external peace. Weapons themselves do not act. They have not come out of the blue. Man has made them. But even given those weapons, those terrible weapons, they cannot act by themselves. As long as they are left alone in storage they cannot do any harm. A human being must use them. Someone must push the button. Satan, the evil powers, cannot push that button. Human beings must do it.
–The Dalai Lama, in The Dalai Lama: A Policy of Kindness

 

the thing is, the buddha didn’t go – he stayed

he liked the woman who knew about bones 5 photo series by pd lyons


he liked the woman who knew about bones

 

The Disappeared by pd lyons ( Calliope Nerve Version )


Pdlyons's Explorations

The Disappeared

Along the lane
Straight down as rain
Without wind
Without sound
Wrapped in briar vines
Emerging posts of bone
As if some ancient mariner
Draws me in a secret un-gloved caress.
I wanted to keep you for myself.
I wanted you to stay, because you went.
But the police,
After further questioning
Came up with ideas all their own
And in so doing, made contact with
The families of the disappeared.
Occasionally,
To men in long wrinkled coats, they speak,
A fog of voices drifting apart,
Before reaching any type of destination.
Taking turns, cast looks around,
As if this really were sea
And answers like shoals of silver fishes lurk
Just beneath the surface.
Careful. Pretending not to notice
How each movement flickers in the lights
As if this really were all some cinematic image
Screened with no one but the actors in the audience.
Their silence…

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open letter to America


Dear America,

With all your peoples and all your resources imagine how great you would be if your country was united?

Sincerely,

Pd Lyons

 

 

 

what i wrote today : The Quiet of Your Love, a thank you poem for Shelly


I like the quiet of your love

when I wake up for no reason in the middle of the night

and you’re laying warm beside me

so everything’s alright

 

I like the quiet of your love

as we walk along the beach

and you’re pointing out the wild things

between the horizon and the sea

 

its those certain situations

no matter where we are

the whole world just goes quiet

like the love you have for me

 

Listening to your laughter

like I listen to your breath

Listening to your voice

like I’m mesmerized

 

and I don’t know how to say it

I always start to cry

so I’ll just hold you closer

and I won’t say a word

I’ll just keep it real quiet

like the love you have for me

from the Magician’s Hat by pd lyons


Pdlyons's Explorations

Kindness

~

the girl in the high heel boots

wishes she could pull something out of me

that would make her feel better

something with a life of its own

something magical

something that might even bite her

before disappearing into her audience

but this hat drooled by any rain

hemmed by cough and smoke

hods only the emptiness of my life

realizing my face , no slight of hand

she reaches from her pocket

drops something useful so that i can pretend i found it.

c Mogan Lyons 2016

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