Title Piece from newest release

WORSHIP SWANS NO LONGER

When you worship swans no longer

Will you find your way to me?

Smoke rising in a breathless voice

Winding between shade and sun

 A dream begun on dew drops

  Daring midday like a ghost

Vowing never to fly

From your embrace

Special First Edition Limited to 150: each numbered and signed by the poet.

Price includes worldwide shipping by regular post in padded envelope.

20.00 dollars US /15 euros Ireland /20 euros rest of Europe /15 UK sterling

Items shipped upon receipt of order (purchase through Paypal)

Contact: pdlyonspoet@yahoo.co.uk

With your shipping information and any queries.

Additional inscription on request.

(Numbered books selected randomly)

“PD Lyons work stands at the threshold so loved in Ireland. That almost magical, almost mythical, almost otherworldly parallel that the Irish dip in and out of. Where we chose to believe in luck and superstition and destiny and embrace these as tangible factors in our daily lives. – from the forward by Una O’Neill D’Arcy, Journalist/Freelance Writer

Thank you in advance for supporting this project!

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Exciting Announcement!

 

When You Worship Swans No Longer: Poetry by

by P D Lyons

Poetry inspired by the village of Fore County Westmeath and surrounding areas of Ireland, by an Irish American poet.

 

Special First Edition Limited to 150: each numbered and signed by the poet.

 

Price includes worldwide shipping by regular post in padded envelope.

20.00 dollars US/15 euros Ireland/20 euros rest of Europe/15. sterling

Items shipped upon receipt of order (purchase through Paypal)

Contact: pdlyonspoet@yahoo.co.uk

With your shipping information and any queries.

Additional inscription on request.

(Numbered books selected randomly)

,

Thank you in advance for supporting this project!

 

 

poetry & photography by pd lyons

 

In the Language of Flowers, It Meant We are Already Dead

 

 

Beside whatever water there was there

Over flowing bowl an undulate of green tendrils

Draped swan songs

Left morning a capture of sorrow

She reached out to nothing there

She reached out to something ridged

Pulling itself from her heart

In and out

A pornograph of pain

The table set with only bones

Memories picked clean

A criticism of cutlery

Every single question ever asked –

A useless pointlessness recycling

Long beautiful bird like creature

 

~

all American

blonde

brown

long

tribal denim

horizontal

perfections

my eyes caught.

 

 

a voice more melodic than my own

breasts smaller than I have known

 

smiles through

even me the stranger

gone

 

 

Ah fish gold fish swimming not

the time light travels

the time sight registers

the time thought conceptualizes  ~

that which we call fish

already moved on

the truth of it unperceived.

 

 

Ah fish gold fish swimming not

watercolor collage paper

A Bamboo Bitch by pd lyons

She’s a bamboo bitch

constantly under

someone’s  finger nails.

On the roof grey shingles

rain collects

finds an escape over the bed.

drop by

drop

the bamboo

grows.

 Tired of a leaky

bed

I lie downstairs

on the couch

trying to see things

in the dark.

When the rain stops

it is so quiet

I think of swimming to Brasil

to tell people

I came from Surinam.

The mud will be deep.

It has rained for days.

But today

sunlight in the dawn

she’s calling me

to see.

 

This was originally published in 1979, Dimensions Magazine. A publication of the then called Mattatuck Community College. I still remember showing the magazine to my grandmother. i felt very proud of the fact that there were 3 of mine in it. Her only comment was did you have to use such language? Referring to the bitch. I have made a few changes to the original but I could not find a way to get away from the bitch. So yes gran’ma , guess I really had to.

 

pdlyons photography

maybe there is this kitchen, random on the spot by pd lyons

theres no place left to walk

there no where ever to go

and whatever might need doing

sure it’ll just get un done

 

so maybe there is this kitchen

maybe the coffees ready

and all the sun that hasn’t shined

decides to forget about winter and

hang around these windows instead

 

what could i do to tell you

what could i say to show you

one day when we were not yet old

didn’t we have so many things to do

and despite all that busy we still found out who we were

 

but now at the end of music

now close to the end of time

now that i’m just on my own

seems like loneliness is ok

some new girl on the stereo

reminding me

a few minutes

to remember

a few minutes beyond regret

you and me

once young

once upon a time

maybe you ‘ll come by

before its too far gone today

i’ll put more coffee on

i’ll share these new tunes with you

and the sun will smile even brighter

or maybe its just me

a bunch of yellow flowers in a jug

a sink of dirty dishes

an old pointer dog greeting you with what was silent tail wag

 

so

 

liberation from suffering is a DIY situation

suffering comes from the erroneous belief in what is not true and striving to maintain that as truth. suffering is a delusion but like a dream it can still cause fear which in turn causes more delusion more suffering. dealing with fear the antidote of which is awareness of the truth, that’s the process of becoming free from suffering. what is true?

for starters how about this – everyone who has ever lived has or will die. this includes everyone you  know including yourself. that is truth. that’s the beginning of liberation – sitting with that for a while. seeing if that causes you more or less suffering than not contemplating it. See if there is a way to sit with that truth without it being a cause of suffering? can you? does it?

give yourself no preconceived notion. give yourself the space and time to sit with the truth, your truth and see what its like for you.

as the saying goes – Food off another’s  spoon will not nourish your wisdom.

In other-words accept no spoon fed answers. challenge all belief assessing their truth through your own self. liberation from suffering is a DIY situation.

 

 

thanks for the inspiration sorry about the preach. cheers.

 

would i see you there by pd lyons

would i see you there

with your big face smiles

your sense of wonder

your denim styles

you were shy to me

yet you followed me

when I turned around,

until you betrayed by your own laughter

I had no idea

What you would dare.

Oh

But where ever you are now

I cannot say

Whatever you went through I have no clue

Those streets those hometown streets

Once mine

Once yours

I have not returned

I have not ever left

And you not really you

but still the you I used to know

Wouldn’t you be there

If I went back

Your big face smiles

Your denim styles

Your ever wondrous self.

Where else could you really be

Who else could you ever be, to me

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