looking by pd lyons

or indeed what

Self portrait 1979 by pd lyons

Where Her Breasts Used To Be, a love peom by pd lyons

Where Her Breasts Used To Be

he kissed her courage
he kissed her fear
he kissed her sadness
her deep unknowability

because she was his dearest
because she was all he loved
and ever wished to

 

acrylic on paper pdlyons

 

Sometimes In This Writing Life ( Part: 3) by pd lyons

today is not the day for final readings

nor the day for the heart rendered into food for thoughts

no, not that or any other house work

not any mandatory thing at all

~

it is a day of something raw

something torn and warm

its own secret source of heat

pulled and pulling

my own

.

mix media pd lyons

 

 

 

 

 

something simple, by pd lyons ( once we knew the dark version)

Something Simple

~

The day.
Something simple not leaving the house
skimming papers     smoking hours      flipping books    peering between drawn drapes.
Nowadays don’t I take pleasure in being home?
Full belly    half asleep fire    watching my daughter dance in velvet Christmas glittering tree.
I’m not famous    an artist years ago     paintings thrown out by irate siblings     unpublished work     a lifetime boxed in someone else’s attic.
I have learned how to deal with dreams too late to ever come true
now quietly taking for granted those that did:
loyal loving partner      wonderful son     brilliant daughter
long meandering memories –
foreign travel     lingering lovers     illicit pleasures     destructive passions

~

Full out gallop mare
Along a razor ridge
United in a pure meditation of action
Free from imagination
Neither of us afraid

a litany of loss and of things waiting to be lost

~

communion with wise spirits of trees
clumsy conjurings of Beelzebub
child like hands held by Christ
 Mescaline white horse breathing desert visions
Gopi Krishna rapture
Goddess full moon dances
secret gold fish pools soft dark woodland sand against pale entwined bodies

If we just gave up,
which god would
save us?

~

 

sheltered by empty doorways

not wanting to miss one moment
rain whispered possibilities

in wonder two Christ’s on a jagged perch
before us spread like glory

a temptation to cling

seeking to destroy our souls