Pdlyons's Explorations
The Road You Mean
today the January snow
sky a heavy dark of steel
makes those old whiskery fence posts seem black
and too the fingers of those tall swaying trees
searching for something
I could not see what for
until the crows came speaking your name
and I remembered
Kore Chant
Her name cannot be spoken
Her face was not forgotten
Her power is to open
Her promise can never be broken.
All seeds She deeply buries
She weaves the thread of seasons
Her secret, darkness carries
She loves beyond all reason.
She charges everything She touches, and
Everything She touches, changes.
Change is, touch is; Touch is, change is.
Change us! Touch us! Touch us! Change us!
Everything lost is found again,
In a new form, In a new way.
Everything hurt is healed again.
In a new life, In a new day.
[Repeat any and all verses.]
from The Spiral Dance by Starhawk
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Spiral_Dance
blessed be.
I found those places
Left behind
Ghost crumb tailings
Shadow sounds soft upon a poplar breeze
Freshwater landmarks unnoticed by untrained eyes
Feral flailing Exuberant heart
Unbridled moon lighting our delinquent ways
What would we ask each other
What would we tell
Or would we, beyond all good fortune
give up these years of fumbling words
Find the only thing our mouths were ever good for
.
How The Green Witch Loved The Winter Man
When the green Witch met the Winter Man he was obsessed with another woman. He said to her, “This is the way. All I ever love retreats from me. Trees drop their leaves, water shrinks dares not move. The earth herself covers and hides. In all my travels all my searching all I’ve found was this woman of the wind. She stirs me, promises she will someday stand still in my embrace, then she flies… But, tell me about you. Who are you that comes to meet the Winter Man?”
With this invitation the Green Witch stretched out her arms so he could see and said, “I am keeper and protector of all that grows – herb and flower, fruit and tree, bringer of peace and healing. I am of the magic of each seedling poking through the soil and too the mighty dragon tree which yields not to raging wind nor sharpened steel. I am of the sparkling dew suspended on a spiders web and too the raging river which cuts earth to the bone. I am of the glowing flames nourishing those dancers calling down the goddess and the god, as well as those ancient fires melting mountains into new land…”
“I know these things of which you speak. Bent my finger to assist your sprouting seed only it did not grow but rather withered, covered your dragon tree to protect it but only did its branches crack. From black fingered shadows I have watched dancers of your fire and caught up in their excitement sought to join but with my approach they slunk away until even the fires glow had gone to grey. And yes I have heard of such things as these spiders webs… But I am the Deep Winter Man! I am no where near autumn nor almost spring. There is nothing green can stand with me! And that is why I can only pursue this woman of the wind and there are times she is so… I’m sure she must be all there is.”
Then the Green Witch said, “What if I could give you this? A gift of green, something green to stand with you, even let your arms around, never shrink from your embrace?”
“You are the Green Witch, of this I do agree but either you mock me or do not understand! I am the Winter Man. With me even the sun unwillingly treads preferring not to come at all. Creatures of the earth can lose their lives to me with but a single breath. All that lives in my presence does so because of my restraint, because I resist my desire. But there are times when I give in and touch and for a few moments feel.
Even you. how long would you, even with all your power stay green in my embrace?”
Then the little woman turned to him, eyes not flinching from his own and answered with but one word, “Ever”.
1990’s
a girl, a bar, a friend, a gin, a city ~
a bit of memory lane
from the book ~ As If the Rain Fell in Ordinary Time, by PD Lyons, 2019
that afternoon she came into the bar
told me she had something to tell me
could I please come outside?
Please.
Sure I said.
I remember a light spring day
maybe even summer
we stood together on the little concrete steps
front door of the bar
I was probably leaning against the railing
most defiantly smoking
she stepped down on the side walk
looking up she said
listen, I just have to tell you…
some other guy she met, really thought he was the one.
I’m so sorry she said but I had to tell you.
I offered to buy her a drink – for old times’ sake
No she said
I’m sorry I made you sad
I’m sure you’ll find someone too.
Good bye
she paused
thanks for being so understanding.
you really are a good man you know.
and left.
I went back in joined my buddy at the bar
I lit a smoke ordered us a round
in those days
we were drinking gin on the rocks with a twist
we were smoking Phillip Morris like the attorney general was a loony tunes
we were betting on the NFL like it owed us a pay check
Anyway before she came in
I had been telling him how I was in a bit of a jam with this young girl
she was so into me
didn’t have the guts to break her heart
and then she comes along and dumps me
Jesus, he said after I told him, that was like some twilight zone episode love story
Thank you to the judges and to Erbacce Crew. I am humbled and honored by this. Cheers Alan!
The annual erbacce-prize for poetry is open from January 1st to May 1st every year. It is entirely FREE to enter thus it attracts top quality poets world-wide… in 2019 we had close to eight thousand entries and all were judged ‘blind’. P D Lyons was the outright winner! Below is the book we produced for him… it is sheer quality poetry, the whole book encompasses a simplicity coupled with deep insight; a truly beautiful collection which reveals more each time it is re-opened… (perfect-bound: 112pages)
Through the generous support of Westmeath County Council a limited edition of 50 numbered and signed copies are available to purchase direct from the poet at €20.00 to include standard postage world wide. I still have a few left contact via comment or pdlyonspoet’yahoo.co.uk
Disappearing Behind Me Into Sky
shadow of crows
from the tree
disappears behind me to the sky
she had crystals hanging in nearly every window of the house
purified energy – coming in, going out
Mystic Connecticut, the town not the sea port
she bought me one for my car
that little shop just by the draw bridge
had it for years, hung from the rear view mirror one car to another to another
I’ve no idea where it is now though
or how I came to part with it
disappeared maybe it’s with that lock of her hair she gave me?
actually a braid cut from her first hair cut
when she was… maybe late twenty’s
Called me a stupid jerk when she found out I’d lost it
Another shadow; like crows, like Connecticut, like herself
disappears behind me to the sky
for tedra
pd lyons photography 2022
PD Lyons Reading from As If The Rain Fell In Ordinary Time erbacce~prize for poetry 2019 erbacce~press Liverpool UK
Pensioners Remiss – incorporates a variety of scenes from my home town Waterbury Ct. St Johns Church for example is still there on the green.
Knowing Now the healing Ways – again influenced by my hometown and my first apartment back in the 70’s.
Atlantic Luncheonette – one of those classic coffee shops in America long before Starbucks or cappuccinos. On the corner opposite the exquisite white marble Waterbury Post Office. Many a skipped school day involved the Atlantic – strategically placed half a block from the library. How ironic, skipped school to hang out in the library. They even let you smoke in there back then but that’s another poem or two…
Thanks for spending time .
cheers.
good luck
bye
!
When I wanted to see you,
Young and available
Dresses out amidst a blue jean wasteland
Stoned as laughter smoky charms
Dancing any moment unannounced
On the steps of Spanish little Harlem
Turquoise as your eyes church doors
Sacramental wine just opened
A spiral of possibilities each as believable as the past.
When I wanted to see you,
Roads wide open looking to ride
Strong summer muscles
Love like horses into sunset.
Diamonds across that midnight sky
Alive only in your love me eyes.
Breathless barefoot pirouette
Limitless kitchens, dull Frigidaire light.
Icy India Pale Ale fast as you can drink.
Third floor back porch dawn
Aegean blue amongst a city of fearlessness.
When I wanted to see you,
Saint John’s Chapel Christmas
Balsam crushed blood velvet
Crystal choir angel
Mysterious as snow.
The mouth you used an accent of hypnosis
Lead like sorrow obsessed with green
As if summer returned between live pines
My hands held by your own to cup each one instead.
When I wanted to see you,
So much more so than wherever you were
Sharper than anything ever dreamed
So much sooner than now.
I could touch you then. I knew you, just around the corner you. Halfway Up the stairs, you. A single rose growing between back yard rubble, you. Travelled by Grey Hound, cross the country, park bench dreamer, double dancer Zelda, you –
A tide of whirlpools. An antebellum majorette beauty queen. You were the most beautiful woman in the world. You were me as a woman. Wanting to be the first one to make love in a whole summer of dry attics never believing for one minute we could end up on the street by Christmas in Connecticut.
I was gonna. I was destined. I was the one. I was the chosen. Could have been Jesus, preferred to be Krishna, hoped only to be Watermelon Sugar. A thing delectable to your lips, a thing you might someday remember without lying or regret.
You were anything possible,
Meeting again someday.
Around the corner, halfway up the stairs,
Eyes still same as my own,
Knowing now the healing ways,
Strong enough for love.
I walked out into a morning
too bright against my shadows.
Three steps down I’m on the pavement
wondering just how able I am to get along –
Stable as loose change,
balanced as a junkie on the prowl.
Still can’t stop thinking about moving
where it is, I’ll finally get to.
My boots are holes turning into blisters.
Cigarettes keep tempting me with immortality.
Girls across the street dare me to smile.
I make up excuses to call what I’m eating food.
The waitress sings to the radio
with commercial interruption asks how I am.
My eggs keep running into hiding,
The coffee strives vainly to hiccup,
I leave a quarter for the singer,
a dollar for the poor.
Ask the women on the corner, how much for conversation?
They say they don’t cater to perversions – try my luck next door.
I bump into an old friend who asks about my wife,
I say I didn’t know I had one.
Then he’s handing me a ten spot
says here go catch a cab.
I hand the driver a social security card
he says this ain’t worth noting unless your old.
I tell him my hearts just gone arthritic
He says here pal try a gun.
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 flocks 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 too 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.
Xunantunich
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
Coca-Cola CESSNAS
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.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
http://www.metbelize.com/lodging.html
(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]
myths of multiplicity by pd lyons 2014 runner up erbacce poetry prize
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