Just Fine, by pd lyons

Just Fine

all is fine in this warm
full after lunch and snug
maybe one more pint
maybe not
maybe nothing at all
fine rain of march
glimmering glimpses of early Easter
fine soft grey sky
feathering possibilities of clearing
fine feel of cash
even now after two o’clock still wrinkly and cushy in my pocket

sure where I am is not where you are
but for me, small quiet hours? just fine.

 

 

 

 

(Navan, Co. Meath)

Except in John Prine by PD Lyons from “Old Songs”

navan co. meath

Except in John Prine

And if I had whiskey then I’d have a drink
And if I had money I’d get me some sleep
And if I still couldn’t sleep then at least I‘d be sittin’
In a place with some heat

And there’s nothing like a city to make you know you’re alone
Nothing like darkness for seein’ all the things you ain’t done

Guess I’m just a man who never growed up
Should’a known mama weren’t lyin’
But somehow I thought it’d work out just right
I was destined for fortune and fame

But now people go by with that look in their eye
And I find that I have to agree
Cause there’s nothing more mysterious
Than just how I turned out to be me

But maybe you been down yourself
Or maybe you heard a John Prine
There’s some song he does
Not sure anymore how it goes
But it’d make you not mind maybe smile some time
When you come across someone like me

And when all someone’s got is lonely
And for sure ain’t no ship comin’ in
It might be a stranger’s smile,
A kindness with out any strings
Means more than my own silly words
Or the comfort that some small change brings

And sure I thought it’d be different
But at my age there’s no way to hide
So whether you stare or smile,
your words are gentle or snide
I’m grateful for whatever you’ll spare

mullingar, co westmeath

 

 

As it says this was inspired by one of my favourite artists John Prine – no sure which song or tune but definitely his.  Written in 2005 or there abouts.  his tune my memories.

the poem by pd lyons

 

the poem is never finished its too alive and goes so much further than the poet or the printed page or even those that read or hear it. 

(you do know there is only one don’t you?)

 

Poetry Reading, by pd lyons

 

 

Poetry Reading

now that i have discovered

an empty heart

i am ready for anything

now that i have learned the fallacy of power

i am ready for anything

now that i know the only time

i am not alone is delusional

i am free

 

Away I Say – by pd lyons (happy february)

fine coffeed morning slipped snow like into an afternoon

Carlos Gardel tango amidst New England February

but I cannot think of anything

I cannot allow anything

cold feet

predominates

my inflated bladder

only getting up

only option

despite all wall to ceiling windows

pouring the heart of winter out into my rooms

away I say away I go to pee………

2 more from Ravens

I know forever is the memory of your touch

Angels with broken wings

I taste the sin they bring

I want to cling to them

But something always haunts me

.

Lust that is true,

Dreams that have gone astray

Down every road you know there’s really nothing much to choose

The siren’s sweet lament

Their spell is my intent

But there’s something in my head denying my attempt

A kind of howling sound says I am pledged to you

.

I cross the thousand years

Part the veil of tears

Despite the demon fears

I’m reaching out for you

And breaking through at last

The circle finally cast

Kneeling down I bow my head to you

My sword at your feet

My crown on your lap

My heart into you hands

I am my Lady’s man

…

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

Balreaske

Earliest morning I been up

Since we got here

Out in the garden Qi gong cup of tea

One crow on the aerial above the chimney

Is that you ?

Is that really you Maeve?

Yes you are sleek and shiny really beautiful today.

Tilts her head towards me

As if surprised

Then clucks a few syllables in return.

Can we stay Maeve? Can we make our home here

Well not exactly here but in this country. Are we really coming home?

She leans further towards me, opens and closes her beak, leans closer

then whistles three gutsy in her throat whistles & flies.

The grass needs tending

It just might rain

Beginning is the least I can do.

In The Company of Woodbines by Pd Lyons

IN THE COMPANY OF WOODBINES

~

Open air

Cobble street,

Church bell rhapsody

 ~

Well worn doors

Rough stone walls

Into secret corners drift

Undisturbed as dust

 ~

Waiting the slow pour

Of a pint

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

 

from Wanting To Be In The Old Tongue

poems of an Irish descent

by pd lyons

Copyright © 2011 PD Lyons

All rights reserved.

:

ISBN-13: 978-1466272996

ISBN-10: 1466272996

pdlyonspoet@yahoo.co.uk

say no to spell check month marh oz10

on the sidewalks of johnstown navan co.meath

nother sunny day. up for coffee, yoga, sent work to Voxpoetica and The Legendary, edit photos. nice explore of tara hill of yesterday, with morgan shelly n our little dog too, discoverd new paths and rope swings and sheep skulss and rabbits. bought new edition of joyces potrait of the artist, still reading ulysses and so it goes…. also a book by wayne dyer havent read anything by him in years in fact think i only heard a few tapes of him when i was working as unit dir of a residential drug tx unit in wtby. “there is a spiritual solution to every problem” says he was inspired by st franscis of assi, i like st fran, he was kind to all creatures including humans… any way havent stared it yet, still studing the dali lama books.

almost ,unch time. not sure what will pan out there yet.