Monthly Archives: July 2022

only august, by pd lyons



almost quiet

only feather sounds


almost still

only slow

steady beating

as if horses


taught themselves

to march in order

across the field

almost green

only smoky

spiral dust



as if insects


taught themselves

to sing

like falling rain

across the mid day

almost yawning

only August


For All The Sylvias , by pd lyons from Myths Of Multiplicity

from the recently published Myths Of Multiplicity. Erbacce-press, Liverpool UK. If you order from Erbacce then not only is postage free

but all profits will directly benefit Erbacce writing co -operative.

For All The Sylvias

sometimes our Odysseus hearts
slip all those sailor knots

sometimes life, not appalling,
rather free – so free we can choose to fly

we have not always carried
flaming skulls of anger
sipped curdled clots of blood

we have not always harmonized
harsh heavy dogs of our dismay
gristled our own lovers

sometimes we have slipped clearly,
breathless and perfectly certain
beyond all mysterious constraint

sometimes we do not come back.

sapphiric no more
golden filigree no more
sun dress polka dots
tall G&T’s
heart shape sunglasses

our children pail and shovel the beach
their laughter, their chatter
muted by waves
grown more distant,
ever more distant

from the recently published Myths Of Multiplicity. Erbacce-press, Liverpool UK. If you order from Erbacce then not only is postage free

but all profits will directly benefit Erbacce writing co -operative.


Xunantunich, by pd lyons – from Myths of Multiplicity

In 1990 I was lucky enough to travel to Belize. For half the trip we were doing a horse trekking in the highlands. We stayed at a former orange plantation – i remember most vividly the  of free flying parrots. They were elegant airborne acrobats so unlike those domesticated souls back in the states. We wold ride through the jungle for hours sometimes lunching by water falls, or swimming into limestone caves. we each were issued a machete to lop off the foliage as we rode. It was deemed poor etiquette to not do your fair share of keeping the trails clear. occasionally we’d pass trees of ripe citrus – reach up from horse back and pick one. Our guide had worked with Harrison Ford on a film based in Belize. He told us he really liked Harrison and became friendly with him. So much so that Harrison promised to take him back to America where he could work for him. But this never happened and now he didn’t like Mr. Harrison Ford too much no more.

Xunantunich is a Mayan  site. It had been excavated years ago, a pyramid complex. The steps of which were terrifyingly steep and slippery with wet limestone. All to quickly we would be done with our days of 4-6 hour rides and return to Belize City our only solace being to go on and spend a week on Ambergris Caye discovering the sea.



The silent policeman
Lay himself down
Across the great western highway
Tired from watching everyone
He wants a return to dreaming
A return to those days of the high bush
Those days of the interior.

Swimming into limestone caves
Box of toucan matches
Lighted lantern
Floats on a little block of wood
While on a smoke of kerosene
Coming back to him now, the words of his fathers:
“So now you know. Everything is alive.”

The silent policeman
Lay himself down
Across the great western highway
Tired of growing heavy with the world
He wants a way
To avoid
End of Paradise Hotels
ESSO drums
To return
To those days of the interior.

Behind his eyes bare foot women light the lamps
Honey shadows seep up into a palm thatch
While owls make questions of constellations
And rolling in from across the valley
A hush answers “From the pale eye of the hunter
A single tear drop fell arching over an unseen face
It touched Earth and disappeared.”

Ring tail ghosts come by
Soft grey kisses through white jungle nets of night
Beyond an ancient plaza
Immersed in some whisper of wings
Jealous eyes of jaguar
Two great gold pearls on the edge of rain.



(unfortunately I did not get custody of the photos so none from Belize)

2015 NOTE – in setting up this blog post i search for some info re Xunantunich and found this piece of info kind of interesting, keep in mind i wrote the piece on my flight home in 1990 –  from Wikipedia listing –

Xunantunich’s name means “Stone Woman” in the Maya language (Mopan and Yucatec combination name), and, like many names given to Maya archaeological sites, is a modern name; the ancient name is currently unknown. The “Stone Woman” refers to the ghost of a woman claimed by several people to inhabit the site, beginning in 1892. She is dressed completely in white, and has fire-red glowing eyes. She generally appears in front of “El Castillo”, ascends the stone stairs, and disappears into a stone wall.[citation needed]

Xunantunich – Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

myths of multiplicity by pd lyons 2014 runner up erbacce poetry prize

The Practise – to reduce fear

   We use thoughts to protect ourselves from what we don’t know. As there is so much we don’t know we become steadily on the defense, trying to anticipate or predict all aspects of a situation. I can’t know you because I am trying to predict you. To make sense of what I don’t know by guessing. At best I will only create confusion. But this adds to my own existing fear ( of being wrong, of not being in control) thus furthering my need to anticipate, to be right, to be strong. What if instead I allowed you, your own self expression, and then…?

   Today –

May I create the courage to allow others space to express themselves. To allow the whole world to express themselves.




Questions to ask my self:

Star Notes 2014 by pd lyons



The house turned into a squat brown man

Got up walked away.


What was there – where the house once was

What remains – that is very interesting.


When illusions getup & leave

Walk, fly, melt away


What is left, what’s behind, what’s there

That’s the thing


Life/death/the original psychedelic

Acid trip.


Knowing how to deal with acid

One learns how to deal with life death.


“There is no passing away

No coming into existence” – Diamond Sutra


What is sacred

Cannot be written

Cannot be spoken

Beyond all degrees of separation

Is the sacred.

The language of accountants

Have no say.

The Druids were Taoist

In their way.


The body that is not me

The ego that is not me

I thank y ou for you are no curse

But rather opportunity.


This is the body

This is the ego

Gives me the chance

If I did not need them

They would not be.


In this world

Its not what’s real

That can hurt you.





The Poet As Noun, by PD lyons

Poet as Noun

he did not know what else to do

so he wrote

he did not think of it

he did not believe it to be divine

he was afraid of everything else

so he did this one thing

not that he didn’t do other things

but they were all varying responses to fear

attempts to over come


hide from

himself and others

like the first one to do acid

like the first one to not cut his hair

like the first one to get married have a kid get divorced

get arrested go to jail

leave town leave the country

all the while knowing the falseness of bravado

he did not know what else to do

so he wrote

no matter how high

how angry

how lonely enough to believe that god did in fact exist and had abandoned him

no matter how much sex

how many lovers

how many miles

how many broken torn up hearts including his own

he did this one thing

and because of this he never needed anyone to tell him who was

yeah they could call him whatever


mother fucker heartless bastard

just a kid

a kid in love

a bleeding heart

ignorant liberal

beautiful lover

hackney painter

failed husband

a traveler of foreign lands

a lover a husband a loving husband a loving father

an outlaw of love a dealer of drugs a rider of fast horses across broken unknown terrain

selfish, grifter,

all these were changeable all these mere adjectives

temporary partial descriptions,

the noun he had always been

because he did this one thing

and then one day he stopped

1974 crosby

1974 crosby

The Acid Reality by pd lyons

We almost changed the world

from hate to love

from war to peace

from stress to joy & compassion

sickness to care

poison to healing

abusiveness to kindness

starvation to nourishment

subjugation to inclusiveness 

greed to respect

you get the idea?

and it could have been so much easier than what we decided to allow instead – wtf

This Writing Tongue by pd lyons

nebulous shapes

so no random design

altering this world

parchment tattooed

often at pain

rightfully feared by those righteous  

   like twin fishes 

   one dark one fair

   sucker mouths

   big eyes blue brown bulging

   almost touching glistening lashes

   gladly met a sea of humanity

   gladly back joining in their bed

   drown in their ocean


Part-time Garden.

lemanshots - Fine Pictures and Digital Art

Dear Friends,

I will be taking a summer break this year to travel and gain new impressions for my creative work.

So I wish you all a wonderful time and would be happy to see you again in autumn.

Stay healthy!



Picture designed and created by Josephine.

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