Category Archives: Uncategorized

Phoebe, the tabby cat who lived in the shed, By pd Lyons – English/Irish/French


Pdlyons's Explorations

Phoebe

the tabby cat

who lived in the shed

the semi savage

yet ever grateful for the feed

is dead

~

and i am feeling so alone

and i am so sorry

sorry for the whole fucking world

i am

~

crying like a baby

no matter what

everything ends in tears

and the next time…?

the next time…?

~

je répondrai

je répondrai

oui

12239486_10154394221861982_2290477682249360769_n

Phoebe

an cat tabby
a bhí ina gcónaí sa chaillfidh
an Savage leath
ach bhí riamh buíoch as an bheatha
marbh

agus tá mé ag mothú mar sin féin
agus tá mé leithscéal sin
leithscéal as an domhan fucking ar fad
tá mé

ag caoineadh cosúil le leanbh
is cuma cén
Críochnaíonn gach rud i Tears
agus an chéad uair eile ...?
an chéad uair eile ...?

je répondrai
 je répondrai
oui


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Phoebe

Le chat tigré

qui vivait dans le hangar le sauvage demi…

View original post 52 more words

Advertisements

10 PAYING/NO FEE Literary Magazines – Deadlines: Dec. 15 – Jan. 15, 2018


Trish Hopkinson

The literary magazines/journals listed below all offer some form of payment, do not charge submission/reading fees, take online submissions, and have submission deadlines from December 15, 2017 – January 15, 2018.

This list focuses on poetry submissions, but most lit mags accept prose and art as well. The listings are in order of closest deadlines.


Eye to the Telescope

DEADLINE: December 15, 2017

SUBMISSION FEE: None

THEME: “This issue of the Eye to the Telescope explores all things Arthurian. From early epics to modern fantasy and science fiction, stories of the Round Table continue to fascinate.”

FORMS: poetry

FORMAT: online

PAYMENT: “US 3¢/word rounded to nearest dollar; minimum US $3, maximum $25.”

Pittsburgh Poetry Review

DEADLINE: December 15, 2017

SUBMISSION FEE: None

FORMS: poetry

FORMAT: online

PAYMENT: $25/poem

Speculative City

(see editor interview here)

DEADLINE: December 15, 2017 

SUBMISSION FEE: None

FORMS: speculative fiction, poetry, and nonfiction

FORMAT: online

THEME:

View original post 438 more words

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.

.

DSC_0031

View original post

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…

View original post 353 more words

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

 

 

 

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

View original post

this spring ( for mara) by pd lyons


 

always willing to go

always yes, never no

protector of my daughter

her first time home alone

 

days so grey I couldn’t imagine telling any one else about –

you were my only confidante

 

where you are now

i don’t know

but there’ s this place in my heart

where, whenever i call,

i know you’ll come

 

do dogwoods grow in this country?

if so  this spring i’ll plant one where you lie

 

When I’m a Ghost I’ll Haunt the Beach w/ My Mother by pd lyons


Tide comes

Stronger now

Still myriad suns

Roll upon the silver breakers

 

Day like the tide

Has turned

Inevitable in it’s

Priceless way

 

But for now lingering

A little longer

Simply sitting in the sun

Breathing by the sea –

Not waiting for anyone

 

When I’m a ghost

I’ll haunt the beach

With my mother

 

The little bay

Where she’d sometimes stand

Looking out over the Atlantic

Imagining

 

I’d tell her its OK

Anyone with that many kids

Would imagine

 

I’d tell her

Everyone’s doing well

Everything worked out pretty much OK

 

The we’d stand

Look out over the sea

Imagining

Forever

 

 

Thank You, by PD Lyons, as published by A New Ulster #29


Pdlyons's Explorations

DSC_8215

I was very happy that Amos Greig chose this a one of my pieces appearing in the #29 issue of A New Ulster!

Not sure when I first discovered Gabriel. I had known of his existence superficially. I was lent copies  by English majors back in the 80’s I think. Sat on my self til i gave them way. Any way years later – not quite a 100, I discovered/experienced one of the most wonderful artists I would ever know. The lush mystical worlds – the most wonderful novels I have ever read. And I would say that,  English literature was being saved by a man who wrote in Spanish. This is a poem I wrote on occasion of his death and my sitting out the back at my home in rural Ireland in the company of a fine Cuban and an exquisite bourbon…

DSC_7110

Thank You

My first cigar of…

View original post 106 more words

true


 

ever onward something goes

%d bloggers like this: