Poetry reading, words and photograhs by pd lyons

 

Poetry Reading

 

now that i have discovered

an empty heart

i am ready for anything

now that i have learned the fallacy of power

i am ready for anything

now that i know the only time

i am not alone is delusional

i am free

 

 

 

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I would abandon all other cities for this… poetry & photography by pd lyons

nyc pdlyons

 

I would abandon all other cities for this…

To wake from sleep with little angels

Cross weeping waters 

Opiate lilies

Rolled tobacco porcelain skin

We would talk

 I would give out money, paper money for free

 Answer, because you are sitting on the streets I was born into this world on.

 

I would pass from them like loose wrappers

cobbled stone behind lost mythologies, strangers foreign even to my self

But I could if I want sift sea salt stolen dreams

camera fantastic songs

 long meandering trails to and from the stars siren spiralling

 a better life only in theory because I would give up all other cities for this.

 

To wake from sleep with nameless angels

Cross weeping water smugglers

Beggar a hazy sun dry enough for a nod nod noddy nod.

Soft we would talk knowing no remedy for tomorrow only respite from the past.

rest your head on my shoulder,

safe from all  clatter drift,

from the hard shelters the rough searchers the mingling watery blood sucked ones.

 

I’d tell you stories of cities abandoned long ago

Where warmth was free

Where angels had names

Where heroes would rescue even you.

I would sleep without being asleep,

  your head on my shoulder

I would not move when disentangled from my arms

you pooch my pockets for something worth taking, cash

  let you have it going,

never to call you anything but by your long-ago name

 the one your mother whispered once all sea spray

 hidden away from anyone else but me.

 

sometimes I will find quiet even in the day light

sometimes I will find a way warm into the night

by myself again

there in only gentle ghosts I blend

 my new skin, my confident sway

a sweetness beyond graves

among stars.

 

nyc pdlyons

 

nyc

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Arabin Shan Arabin, as invisible poem by pd lyons to be read out-loud by Susan

 

 

Arabin Shan arabin

Nar nee zapee  Cro no banine

 

Arabin Shan arabin

Din apee lee nar Ma zeen

 

Pu tan pu shee Mi narabin

Nonce or nonce Be tin pa nin

 

Sha arabin Shee narabin

Dalock nay bit

Mom sar sarabin

 

Sha peta peta shay

Noce ne manibe La bay la bay

To shan nat sharabin

Lay sarabin mon ay

Yey noct nee been ta lo una kane

Push sha mono to be

Carpa tin

La carpintine

Mon ax tala bin

Mix sarabin sha sarabin

Sha sha my nosra pata quinpa

 Al nay all tika saw

Shay shay bow desta bow

Shay mi arabin mi arabin

 

 

 

 

 

 

Carlingford words and photos by pd lyons

A pail full of sunshine.

A simple siting breath by the sea.

Children run.

Can happiness ever be too loved?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~.

Tide comes

Stronger now

Still rolling

Myriad suns

Upon the silver beakers

 

The day like the tide

Has turned

Inevitable in its priceless way

 

 

But for now a longer linger

Simple sitting

Breathing by the sea

Not waiting for anyone

 

 

Carlingford 30.9.17.

26.6.19. nick drake

FIELDS OF CAPRICORN words and photography by pd lyons

 

FIELDS OF CAPRICORN

 

 with ash figures, smudge me.

 with woman oil, mark me.

 from the little lady of the green, offer  water

she who taught me how to drink.

 tonight, with common ancestry

across our knees, we sit.

 with a blade made by my own teeth, cut.

 blood speaks. all deaths are nourishing.

from the little man of the bone tattoo

offer  warm flesh,

he who teaches how to eat –

this is the man time.

 

 

 

And it’s just another blessing of a day by pd lyons

just another bird on the wing

Just another sun-lite breeze

Just another drop the kid off at school

Just another blessing of a day

 

And it’s just being here thinking

the best luck I ever had is you

And it’s such a little time for a lifetime

A rare jewel against eternity

so glad you choose to spend it with me

 

Miracles wander all around this place

an old dog barking at the door

horses thundering in the field

small streams pouring into deep pools

 

sure, you and I are miracles too

just like when you lie beside me

Your breath warm against me in the night

 

And it’s just a morning sun

And the coffees in the air

just another blessing of a day

Shelly I’m grateful for every single one.

 

What if We Could Meet the World Unwounded? & Demons prose poetry photos by pd lyons

 

What if We Could Meet the World Unwounded?

The inner wounded child haunts us Why? Because we bind it. Our attachments to this child, Desires to relive To ease and protect from all pains past and potential keeps this woundedness froze in time. Locked in. Seeking to replicate past scenarios, attempting a new positive result. But each time the super sensitive ever-woundedness simply fulfils its own prophecy

Can we dissolve that attachment? Can we allow our own courageous awareness to perceive what is true? Can we  let the child be?  Then to joyously go – just the way we wanted to be when we really were that very young?

 

 

Demons –

These are thoughts

I conjure, use

To make me child of wounds

Feel important

Feel real

But how subtle this ensnarement

Creates only an unsolvable past

Layer by layer

A prison of ghosts

Let go Let be

If I let the child go

Now

Just the way we wanted to be when we were young

Blissful free

No need for demons ever again

 

Everyone whoever caused my wounds

Are either dead or so far removed (in time or distance)

Can no longer cause me harm

Neither can I give you,

What you should have had.

I cannot go back and fix the past.

But I can give you freedom now

I can let you go, unchained from an unresolvable past.

Be free be free be free at last

 

And now my anger demon

You’re finally done

This child so faithfully protected  now free,  moves on.

So too may you be.

Thank you for your diligence, your vehemence, your loyalty.

Thank you for your faithful service.

You may go. you may leave. you may enjoy the bliss of freedom.

Be free be free be free at last.

Now that energy once locked into being ever vigilant, ever ready?

available to be new again.

 

And now my arrogance demon

There is no need to be special

No need to sooth this child’s wounding by invulnerability.

You do not need to know or act as if you do know everything.

This child indeed special. This child indeed free.

Relax faithful hero this child who is free needs no protection

Relax valiant healer, willing, wishing saviour

Thank you for your faithful work

be free be free be free at last.

Now that energy once locked into being ever vigilant, ever ready?

available to be new again.

 

 

 

 

from the Hooks Song Project, Expectin’ John Prine – words and photo by pd lyons

Expectin’ John Prine

And if I had whiskey

Then I’d have a drink

And if I had money

I’d get me some sleep

And if I still couldn’t sleep

Then at least I‘d be sittin’

In a place with some heat

 

And there’s nothing like quiet

To make you know you’re alone

Nothing like darkness for seein’

All the things you ain’t done

 

Guess I’m just a man who never growed up

Should’ a known mama weren’t liein’

But somehow I thought it’d work out alright

 I was born for fortune and fame

 

But now people go by with that look in their eye

And I find that I have to agree

Cause there’s nothing more mysterious

Than just how I turned out to be me

 

But maybe you been down yourself

Or maybe you heard a John Prine

There’s some song he does

Not sure anymore how it goes

But it’d make you not mind maybe smile some time

When you come across someone like me

 

And when all someone’s got is lonely

And for sure ain’t no ship comin’ in

It might be a stranger’s smile,

A kindness with out any strings

Means more than my own silly words

Or the comfort that some small change brings

 

And sure I thought it  be different

 The whole world welcome my songs

But I guess at my age

There’s no way to hide

So whether you stare or smile, your words are gentle or snide

I don’t care if you look right through me

As long as you got something to give

I’m grateful for whatever you spare.

 

from my badlands / words and photographs by pd lyons

along the north sea port

join a Virgil woman

guiding darker underground

 beneath the cities of men

 

up for air

 

ice hung with our breath

long wrapped woollens

nestling steel in our pockets

heated by such as our own mortal blood

behind the drapes

through the doors

 company of sailors whores and other stranded strangers

ritual of smoke

purification of rum

dreams spoke of southerner seas

twined with stories of the ice

phantomed like Frankenstein and Winnetou

every one of us a mythology onto ourselves and each other.

what you we do but cling?

what could we do but put our breathing mouths together?

labyrinth

tongues

underworld

archetype

alive.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sister Stones, poetry and photograph by pd lyons

Sister Stones

Today I brought her stones,
sister stones
white round found together on the beach

Not the waxy white,
not glassy grey,
but almost opal

Round

Alike

Together

brought to her still wet
from my having sucked their salt