ghost of the nun who kissed me by pd lyons

new haven ct artist not remembered by photographer pdlyons

down the hallway

all asleep

whispering

into the library

out over the city

windowed clear stars

on a moonless night

me

too

unwilling

to let go

 

ghost of the nun who kissed me by pd lyons

new haven ct artist not remembered by photographer pdlyons

down the hallway

all asleep

whispering

into the library

out over the city

windowed clear stars

on a moonless night

me

too

unwilling

to let go

 

I Found Those Places Left Behind, ruff ~ by pd lyons

 

I found those places

Left behind

Ghost crumb tailings

Shadow sounds soft upon a poplar breeze

Freshwater landmarks unnoticed by untrained eyes

Feral flailing Exuberant heart

Unbridled moon lighting our delinquent ways

What would we ask each other

What would we tell

Or would we, beyond all good fortune

give up these years of fumbling words

Find the only thing our mouths were ever good for

.

ghost of the nun who kissed me by pd lyons

new haven ct artist not remembered by photographer pdlyons

down the hallway

all asleep

whispering

into the library

out over the city

windowed clear stars

on a moonless night

me

too

unwilling

to let go

 

A Mandala of Dinosaurs, A Message of Lovers, A Mostly of Crows by pd lyons

A mandala of dinosaurs   A pestilence of motorcyclists.

A red sky of warnings   A coyote of marzipan.

A zygote of intelligence   Crystal of Elan-ists.

Soda of psychopaths   Preponderance of dictators

Herald of crows   Kansas of superpowers

An eclipse of educators   Blessing of coffees

An autumn of smudges   A winter of geese

A summer of topiaries   A spring of dreams

Empire of penises   A squander of vaginas

A catapult of efforts   A plethora of crows

An envy of ravens   A parcel of pachyderms

A coagulant of desires   A   Mercury of fish

Kick-start of starlings   Meandering of serpents

Bucket of worms   Sack of cats

A giggle of girls    Shyness of boys.

A Saladin of wisdoms    A crisis of faiths

A plague of religions    Carpet of bread crumbs

Sanctity of prisoners    A rats-ass of carers

Trombone of sex    Conglomerate of crows

A pudding of infants     A declaration of sea shells

A tumble of puppies      A cartoon of kittens

Meander of mysteries   A half league of words

A complaint of crows      A severance of hopes

An ignorance of drivers    A Shenandoah of daughters

A crux of sons     A crossing of souls

A delightful of crows     A smatter of kisses

A moonbeam of tongues   A secretion of secrets

A message of lovers.

 

 

Jackson Pollocked Across the Empty Linens of My Bed, a young love song, ruff draft

 

 

Your razors are my kisses

Your hands basin my heart

How often will you bleed me

And leave me in the dark?

 

 

I know that you know me

I know you have no doubt

No matter what I try to do

No matter what I say

Can’t change the way I feel

Don’t want too anyway

 

 

No matter what I’m doing

just waiting around for you

My door is always open

So you don’t even need the key

I got myself a new phone

Gave no one else the number

So no one bothers me

 

Your razors are my kisses

Your hands basin my heart

How often will you bleed me

And leave me in the dark?

 

scorpion night 10 pdlyons

when he had finished covering you with kisses, by pd lyons

photo by pd lyons

Back in my early horse days when life was mostly pure drama and mad passion – sometimes but not always self preservation would step in –

So one day when he had finished covering you with kisses

not long after you knew he’d be leaving for good

you went out on that flea bit mare

old trails just before the picnic rapids

crossed the shallows

goat trailed it up steep rock ridge

high enough to be free from cob webs and biting bugs

above the serpintine valley

restless the mare

bored with standing argues the bit

pulls the reigns

paws the rocky ground

and for a moment

you think of your own Spanish spurs

and then remember :

“never give your heart to anyone but a horse”

foolish? yes.

but still in the saddle

bend her round your leg for home

– from Lessons on Western Riding by pd lyons

photo by pd lyons

PSA : WPKN 89.5 FM – poem by pd lyons

Yale art gallery artist ?

Public Service Announcement WPKN 89.5 FM

somebody said your name on the radio,

something going on up state,

not to be missed,

sure to be good;

sure I could agree,

except with the not

missing you part.

guess I could drive up?

but it be my luck,

standing outside,

all Dlyanesque without a ticket

not even in the rain.

so I sipped on hot tea.

went back to my afternoon.

knowing, if you were here?

it’d be wild turkey

and I’d be covered in paint

and your sweet bourbon kisses

from: Rumours of Another Summer, New Work by PD Lyons

 

Kisses Which Bare the Open Mouths of Love

She would not know me now

All spidered and soft eyed

There are no horses here

I do not smoke with them

Before the rising sun

We do not track our way through trackless lands

Drink from any random running waters.

No summers here

My own muscles do not perfume

The work day

Attract the stars nocturnal butterflies

& kisses which bare the open mouths of love

from :Rumours of Another Summer, New Work by PD Lyons  ISBN 9781 463769284

available amazon books and amazon kindle .99 cents

amazon.com/author/pdlyons

 

now on kindle

 

Kisses, by pd lyons from Caribu & Sister Stones: Selected Poems

KISSES

saddles loosened

reins looped round a tree

ponies nickering at rest

just enough blue breeze whispers

answering tall almost gone to seed grass

some where in that summer

that girl still waits on me

From Caribu & Sister Stones: Selected Poems, Belfast Lapwing 2009

ISBN 978-1-905425-90-7