Tag Archives: dream

Sitting, by pd lyons; from – once we knew the darkness


 

 

 

Sitting

A mans hands on a girls thighs

One on each rolls them out

A better view of what he’s dreamt for so long.

Muscular even in yielding

She allows her deep breath body freely.

Outside women talk how the year slips

School days into holidays beginning school again.

A woman in love writes her name

Moon soft ivory

Pale sky

By the Buddha

By the open window

Major piano chords

A simple charm

Like where in dreams we can’t be hurt.

A man begrudging poetry

Leaves out such things as joy

Hopes a mirage of his own making

Hides in clothes made from mistaken identities

Secrets like superman behind caped crusades

Although blurred some character always lurks

Despite the roles he thinks he should,

He thinks they want, he thinks he must.

A series of figures exchanged through out his life

Even the god he picks a model of dysfunction.

 

 

CSC_0091

 

 

Advertisements

rough approximation


and if we sleep this night
will the tomorrow we awake to
be different from what dream

can we know either of us
we are the same
can we know either of us
again

what is ever changing
can it be ever known

what is never changing

can it ever be us

 

DSC_0367

Why we like Fresh Ink Lliterary Magazine


Why we like Fresh Ink Lliterary Magazine.

 

Had A Dream About Clint Eastwood

we were doing something with horses

not riding or roping

just putting our hands on them

feeling the sunlight through them

and smiling

Fore Abbey by Pd Lyons


 

 

Fore Abbey

Whiskered wooden posts
Decorated by bits of rusted star crossed metal
Silhouettes upon the hillsides
Random marks above the weeds
As if graves of unknown beings

Silent but for crows
Tied like rags upon an invisible thread
Suspended ever changing from an ever changing sky
More shades of grey than words I know

And when the sun
Ignites as far as I can see
A brief and brilliant green such as emeralds could only dream
Sure as this November morning makes each breath a smoky prayer
I know this rolling valley is the wherever I should exactly be

Cut stones shifted by anonymous hands
Nameless legacy bequeathed from each to each
Now held by my own
What lingers here for however long

Richer than any fame
Black earth by sparkling pebble beds
Fed by springs that have no end
Remembered by some other unknown soul

All who left their mark upon this land.

 

where i work

where i worked

 

 

DSC_3946

the hill

the hill

 

 

%d bloggers like this: