Tag Archives: pd lyons photography

5.3.23 morning coffee notes

On today’s menu

Pain, Hawks, Sea shore, joy, equanimity, writing poetry again, title piece from: my favourite dreams are of the sea


At first it was a bit sporadic but eventually

The lapse between pain and non-opposing

Grew shorter

Instead of zing-fuck

It became zing-oh you again

Managing  what is VS seeking comfort


This mornings

Red hawk

Unfurls herself

Slowly into flight

Funny how something so big

Remains unnoticed until in motion.


 Where do they happen

Where do they go

Where do they come from

With Within Without – “Me”

Don’t know Don’t want Don’t need



Mercy Plea

If I listen

I’d hear my own heart

A weakness which would put me vulnerable

To every heartless thing I’ve done


I don’t know where it comes from

This turbulent impatience


Attachment to results

A wish that my writing made a “difference”

That people found it got it responded to it.


Or is it something else

An exhaustive ache pain

Redundant days after days

Seeming peaceful but inherently futile.


I’m where it comes from


What do I do about that?

Old man blues what can you do?


Equanimity key

Resolution for suffering

 Enabler of movement instead of entrenched rigidity

 Breathe in What Is

Exhale movements with What Is.

Equanimity free from emotional reactions activity is infused with wisdom


Today for the first time in forever I wrote. Working some poems from my manuscript My Favourite Dreams Are of the Sea. I wasn’t getting it ready to send out, I’ve no one to send it to. I just found myself sitting with it. Started with a basic full word do edit and then began to read and work them. Getting to the first three. The changes presented themselves effortlessly. I had no doubt over every deleted word, lines even stanza each brought out the natural shine of the piece. It was a nice steady enjoyment of writing poetry again.  Left me looking forward to tomorrows session and able to allow myself that luxury.

So here’s the title piece ~


My Favourite Dreams Are of the Sea


Sky so bright it can’t be looked at

water dark and deep

the sky bends down in envy

 I am alone in this wide-open ocean

absent from any shore line

knowing as I lie back she will not let me fall.


 Barefoot playing on the beach sand castles built tall as my self

and now with my pail make a way so mermaids who have been watching

 can come up for a visit without leaving their home behind.


My mother meets me by the creek once marked the boundary of our beach walks

we are walking back I am telling her everyone is doing pretty well.

she is pointing out to where diamonds of the waves briefly meet the sky.


My cousins brother-in-law brings us to the breakwater to fish. I’ve smoked all my cigarettes and he, the brother-in-law, is generous supplying me from his own. They get bored want to go down to the beach side to swim. I don’t want to, So I stay smoking someone else’s cigarettes fishing for nothing keeping an eye on the gear. Nearby there’s woman on a huge flat chunk of granite. She has two children with her. They are playing together with bits of sea weed. She lays there luxuriant in the sun sounds of the waves and the laughter of her children.


Walking on the beach with a girl I know from school. tide high and slack.

we are finding things in the sand noting as we go strips of green weeds, bits of sea glass, bleached bones of small creatures skulls of small crabs. Sometimes there are these pink stones. I pick them up put them into the pockets of my cut-off jeans. She picks them up as well and even though she has pockets on her cut-offs she is rather throwing them out into the sea. I give it a go but mine fall short. They’re nowhere near the long effortless arcs of her own. So instead, I give all mine to her and watch. We continue on in that way. Me picking up small pink stones handing them to her so we can enjoy the long grace of her connections with the sea.



Morning Coffee Notes 24.2.23 ~

On todays menu ~ Spring, Horseshoe Crab, Body/brain Memory According to Horses, This Mornings Repetition and of course  COFFEE!


Empty bird feeder

Dappled sunlight

Budding trees

I get to notice




Picture 091



Horseshoe Crabs


I think about horseshoe crabs, when child, discovering them.

My friend telling me they were dangerous because the ridge along their sone and tail would cut your foot. And they were poisonous too!

Notwithstanding I forum them fascinating. Would have called them alien but I didn’t have that word you. Extra-terrestrial creatures you know.

Later I heard that they were a creature that had silver blood and were used to discover way to treat leprosy. There were definitely a colour of unseen worlds. Upside down there was bits of orange a more familiar thing. sometimes we’d find small little ones not as intimidating as the adults which were about a foot or so wide. Besides all the little one we ever found were dead. Bleach whitish by the sun, shells thinner than a potato chip.

 Any way I don’t know how much of what I believed as a kid is true. Don’t want to know enough of my childhood has been disproven. So I’m keeping this for my childhood and my friends as if that would keep us walking along the big giant oceans sharing stories and the adventure of comradery.

The Body/Brain memory according to horses.

Has its own memory. Things a brain might rather not know. The body remembers and will act automatic to prevent, or at least try to prevent a reoccurrence of such things.

 I remember getting busted up by a horse. First time thrown, first time in hospital, first broken bone, first collapsed lung a long list of things. All firsts that I wished were nevers.

So after I was discharged from hospital I realised I need a cane, There was no medical reason, But I found whenever I was walking around in public and people got to close I’d flinch and it’d hurt. They weren’t really too close but according to the body’s memory they certainly were, So I carried a wooden cane. Not to menace folk but people generally give a wider berth to a person with a cane.


The brain too has its own memories. Maybe sometimes it decides the best way to manipulate what’s happened is to go full throttle out there. To prove to itself and the body too that though a thing happened once doesn’t always mean it will happen again’ Kind of rushing away from what the body remembers and mind does not wish to acknowledge. Apart of something that wants to prove something to its/my self?

So anyway that’s the reason I got back on the horse so to speak. Never rode that other one again. A difference between courage and stupid?

And so that was enough for firsts although my second time in hospital was from being kicked by a horse. That was the first time I lost a spleen and at least I know that can never happen again. 

 “Your spleen looks like smithereens’.” said the surgeon. Needed to be quoted somewhere don’t you think? They wanted to cut my chaps off. That of course did not happen. But that’s another story.


This Mornings Repetition


If I let these days

Gentle lie falling fallen leaves

Like green leaves

Wind whisper rain through poplar

 How can any one of them be bad?

This is my privilege

To be kind is my honour

These are my vows

Today tonight tomorrow

 To you to me to this whole world.


(Repeat daily)

morning coffee notes 23.2.23


Today I get to have another one



Dog wiggling with joy

Allowed up on the bed



That morning still dark

Slender glow along the horizon

Promised a sunny day.


I already had the horse groomed and tacked.

One of my favourite things to ride out alone early

No plans for when we’d come back.

The joy of it

Me and this wonderful creature

As if we could really never come back.

The sense of truly anything could happen.


I knew we’d head down to the river

A small pool there she liked to splash

 I was thinking up the goat trails

Then into the peaks.

She had great balance and true to her breed

Feet like steel.


How would the valley look this morning?

Where would we find ourselves by afternoon?

These questions opened our hearts.

Hearts of gratitude. Pulsing life as something to be unknown

Embraced Rejoiced Savoured.


Thank You.



Cold diamonds


Early sun


The longer I live the more I know I don’t know.

Like Dylan said – I was so much older then I’m younger than that now,

The certainty of youth seems to give way to the wisdom of not knowing and not for the most part giving af.

All I can do is cultivate kindness to  everyone else that don’t know anything either. Although some folks get really spun out about it. If you spend generations insisting on things being a certain way well good luck to anyone who shows its different. I am grateful for the evidence of revolution. Makes these hardships a bit easier. How can you look a seasons ageing empires come and go and come up with a belief in a never changing anything.

On the other had as a great master once reminded his students upon his departure “Don’t Know. Don’t need. Don’t want.”


When we stop splintering in order to “know”

how bright will the universe be



oh rebel

when you return

a joy to all

after all home is where the heart is




birthday note on turning 60 by pd lyons (and now I’m 67 and feeling pretty much the same. How cool is that?) with photos

1974 crosby


the old fellow near the sea

the old fellow near the sea

today ends my fifth decade. to morrow i will be 60.

the sixth decade begins at 5:54 am

bringer of the new dawn

 ever aging scorpion.

sometimes i think it has not happened

sometimes when i think of that certain little boy

i still get tears.

sometimes when i think back,

teenage, marriages, children, lovers, others –

reminding myself  of the good and of the not so very good –

reminding myself that I really  did the best I could.

but you know i am the luckiest man i know.

i have ended up in a country foreign to my birth

with a family of my own…

i  think i am in the best health ever.

no smoking for over 15 years

steady yoga meditation

and always did and still do love to walk –

there are miles of my life upon

mountains, shores, countries, continents

and  along those meandering pathways between the worlds.

and while i know all things come to an end –

as of right now i have not!

how cool is that?




cover photo

photographer unknown

photographer unknown

Dead Can Dance Yoga, music by dead can dance, poem by pd lyons


dead can dance – How Fortunate the Man with None:

Dead Can Dance Yoga


sometimes when quiet winter
bright enough  silver
opened windows
  incense shadows
a way of moving
without effort
a way of breath
without effort
a way without ache
karma non-existent
freely offered
 equally without effort

a time of true light
a time of true nature
where now the thousand years of darkness?


dead can dance – Severance:

Twilight Zone Episode Love Story by PD Lyons ~ read by the author

a girl, a bar, a friend, a gin, a city ~

a bit of memory lane

from the book ~ As If the Rain Fell in Ordinary Time, by PD Lyons, 2019


that afternoon she came into the bar

told me she had something to tell me

could I please come outside?


Sure I said.

I remember a light spring day

maybe even summer

we stood together on the little concrete steps

front door of the bar

I was probably leaning against the railing

most defiantly smoking

she stepped down on the side walk

looking up she said

listen,  I just have to tell you…

some other guy she met, really thought he was the one.


I’m so sorry she said but I had to tell you.

I offered to buy her a drink – for old times’ sake

No she said

I’m sorry I made you sad

 I’m sure you’ll find someone too.

Good bye

she paused

thanks for being so understanding.

 you really are a good man you know.


and left.


 I went back in joined my buddy at the bar

I lit a smoke ordered us a round

in those days

we were drinking gin on the rocks with a twist

we were smoking Phillip Morris like the attorney general was a loony tunes

we were betting on the NFL like it owed us a pay check


Anyway before she came in

I had been telling him how I was in a bit of a jam with this young girl

she was so into me

didn’t have the guts to break her heart


and then she comes along and dumps me

Jesus, he said after I told him, that was like some twilight zone episode love story


Thank you to the judges and to Erbacce Crew. I am humbled and honored by this. Cheers Alan!

 P D Lyons Winner of the 2019 erbacce-prize for poetry

The annual erbacce-prize for poetry is open from January 1st to May 1st every year. It is entirely FREE to enter thus it attracts top quality poets world-wide… in 2019 we had close to eight thousand entries and all were judged ‘blind’. P D Lyons was the outright winner! Below is the book we produced for him… it is sheer quality poetry, the whole book encompasses a simplicity coupled with deep insight; a truly beautiful collection which reveals more each time it is re-opened… (perfect-bound: 112pages)

Through the generous support of  Westmeath County Council a limited edition of 50 numbered and signed copies are available to purchase direct from the poet at €20.00 to include standard postage world wide. I still have a few left contact via comment or pdlyonspoet’yahoo.co.uk

Ruff excerpt from the poem Rings of Saturn by pd lyons



and you know this feeling

it is the constant star

as if you’ve been home sick all your life

for a thing you’ve always known

yet never had…

but these days are good

and also familiar 

days of peace

wet earth and time passing slowly

like the time of children and animals

the time of growing things

each moment


each moment you’re knowing

you’ve know it all along

even before there were words to describe it


just as you also know

constant stranger moving through these days

unable to stay for very long

a thief only able to carry little bits away

beneath the leather jacket

in a pocket next to your heart.

Twilight Zone Episode Love Story by PD Lyons ~ read by the author

a girl, a bar, a friend, a gin, a city ~

a bit of memory lane

from the book ~ As If the Rain Fell in Ordinary Time, by PD Lyons, 2019


Not What the Poem Means & Without Sorrow There Cannot Be Kindness by PD Lyons (with pics)


not what the poem means

but how

how it makes you feel think react

when you bring your self to it


the tapestry is not thread by thread examined

but rather thread by thread combined~

if you see each thread you miss the tapestry


 study each brush stroke you miss the art work

forest for the trees ~

take it all in

take a big swig

not to figure it out 


to see what happens.


where are you singing

where are you dancing

tonite open spaces of my heart

in memory together and apart

children take us by the hand

sun across some foreign shore

where life is only looking back

trading places with the dark

wisdom drawn like silver

without sticks without books without roots

unspeakable nite this time

I will not medicate I will not dogma

I will wide open in the dark.

Without sorrow there cannot be kindness.



photo by shelly 2019

We Had Our own Penises Then, poetry by PD Lyons

We Had Our own Penises Then

Taught them tricks

Sit up



Roll over

Play dead


Got them to fetch

 Escort us on the lead

Not mess in the house

Be careful how they peed


And whenever we wanted

We’d change them.

Start again with new ones –





Sometimes they’d fall in love with us

Break their own little hearts

But our love?

Only meant for each other

Was not that kind.

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