I Would Abandon All Other Cities For This by PD Lyons as read by the poet

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 could 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 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 could 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
angels had names; 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’ll 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.

I would abandon all other cities for this… The reading by pd lyons

 

 

I would abandon all other cities for this 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.

(so a ruff work in progress what do you think?)

 

To wake from sleep with neutral angels

Cross weeping waters   Opiate lilies

Rolled tobacco   Porcelain skin

~

I give out money, paper money for free.

 Answer: Because you are sitting on the streets I was born into this world on.

 

I pass from them streets like loose wrappers

cobbled stones lost mythologies; strangers foreign even to my self.

But  could if I want sift sea salt stolen dreams.  Camera fantastic songs.

 Long meandering trails to and from siren spiralling stairs.

 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.

~

Soft we talk knowing no tomorrows. 

your head rests on my shoulder. Safe from all clack and clatter,

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

Only respite from the past, we drift.

 

I tell you stories of cities abandoned long ago

Where warmth was free. Where angels had names

Where heroes would rescue even you.

Asleep without being asleep, your head on my shoulder.

I don’t move when tenderly

You pooch my pockets

 find something worth taking.

 Let you have it

 not moving while you leave

I would abandon all other cities for this 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.

(so a ruff work in progress what do you think?)

 

To wake from sleep with neutral angels

Cross weeping waters   Opiate lilies

Rolled tobacco   Porcelain skin

~

I give out money, paper money for free.

 Answer: Because you are sitting on the streets I was born into this world on.

 

I pass from them streets like loose wrappers

cobbled stones lost mythologies; strangers foreign even to my self.

But  could if I want sift sea salt stolen dreams.  Camera fantastic songs.

 Long meandering trails to and from siren spiralling stairs.

 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.

~

Soft we talk knowing no tomorrows. 

your head rests on my shoulder. Safe from all clack and clatter,

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

Only respite from the past, we drift.

 

I tell you stories of cities abandoned long ago

Where warmth was free. Where angels had names

Where heroes would rescue even you.

Asleep without being asleep, your head on my shoulder.

I don’t move when tenderly

You pooch my pockets

 find something worth taking.

 Let you have it

 not moving while you leave

I would abandon all other cities for this 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.

(so a ruff work in progress what do you think?)

 

To wake from sleep with neutral angels

Cross weeping waters   Opiate lilies

Rolled tobacco   Porcelain skin

~

I give out money, paper money for free.

 Answer: Because you are sitting on the streets I was born into this world on.

 

I pass from them streets like loose wrappers

cobbled stones lost mythologies; strangers foreign even to my self.

But  could if I want sift sea salt stolen dreams.  Camera fantastic songs.

 Long meandering trails to and from siren spiralling stairs.

 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.

~

Soft we talk knowing no tomorrows. 

your head rests on my shoulder. Safe from all clack and clatter,

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

Only respite from the past, we drift.

 

I tell you stories of cities abandoned long ago

Where warmth was free. Where angels had names

Where heroes would rescue even you.

Asleep without being asleep, your head on my shoulder.

I don’t move when tenderly

You pooch my pockets

 find something worth taking.

 Let you have it

 not moving while you leave

ruff off the cuff, a love poem with photos by pd lyons

lemons with stainless steel by pdlyons

 

the old religion of your eyes

an accent of long strings made from the heart of my wild days

contrary backwards ridden horses

painted  nights of our own solitude

mystical marvelous

fingerprints phosphorescent

 

our mouths still meet like that

all blue tattoo

all willingly open  offerings of  sky

fearless

 cities of our violence ebbing rhythmically

 a shore line languid with our peace