Tag Archives: pdlyons photography

I Will Know You Always, by pd Lyons


Another lovers poem. Somehow even these days it is the lovers that remind me of Paris. No matter what, it is the lovers…

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artist unknown.Paris.pdlyons photo

once when love was finger tips

participating every new inch of you

how could I know silence

wound like slippery tongue holds

keeping secrets no longer

than the hard erect penis of worth while

afternoons

all golden like they always said

all forever like they all said did not exist

as long a there is breath

I will know you

~

only through muscle sweat cum voice

could our bodies ever be so gentle

whispers too loud

our tears slow in wonder

our separation

distant legend

unavoidable prophecy

both irreparably exposed as lies

as long as there is silence

I will know you

~

always

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Paris.pdlyons photo

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


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paris

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

Notre dam Paris

Notre dame Paris

The Winter’s House In Windtown, by pd lyons


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The Winter’s House In Windtown

Saturday the witches came
haggard hoary bristly three
and in the kitchen at the sink
incanting charms and pantry spells
resorted themselves to true beauty

and walking by the lake again
cut bouquets of certain weeds
grown only on forgotten graves
taunted frogs with transformation
lured from whispering reeds
wood duck, heron, silent swan
cupped and rubbed soft feathered chins
left them fast asleep invisibly protected through the night

upon their fingers velvet bats
sang busy beeping songs
until blown away with kisses.

then made it back for midnight tea
around the blazing fire
wood rum, pale cakes, spiced ales
nettle cheese, fresh sliced pumpkin, acorn soup, roast chestnuts
honeyed mushrooms, steaming cups of coffee coco

and greeted right well all
unknown travelers of the night
but none so well as the stray tabby cat
intent on playing catch the porch pixies
bounded slid across the polished floor
and before she could correct herself and flee?
clear bowls of cream
cooked river fish
petted, stroked, and secret named
til red cushion velvet by the fire purred herself to sleep

and on the first faint sign of sunrise
a final toast of elderberry
helped to do the tidy up
before slightly stumbling up the stair
to find their way beneath the duvets of my creaking bed

 

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Shh…, by pd lyons


 

Shh

young legged dream
blue moon tights
pillows of lies
languid skirts
smudged red lips shh like smoke

 

paris

Paris

roads, by pd lyons. from newish poems


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9.30.14. fore by pdlyonsphoto

 

 

 

9.30.14. fore by pdlyonsphoto

9.30.14. fore by pdlyonsphoto

 

 

roads

~

coming back to me

crows know
those roads
I know

autumn in October
leaves alike
past seasons
once knee deep

hand held by my mother
down the big giant hill

~

 

9.30.14. fore by pdlyonsphoto

9.30.14. fore by pdlyonsphoto

 

9.30.14. fore by pdlyonsphoto

9.30.14. fore by pdlyonsphoto

With Jesus In Jacksonville : poem by pd lyons


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With Jesus in Jacksonville

hitting the bars with the stars

bumped into each other and got sacramental

after last call out in the rain

wished hard for a car with out a locked door

found a blue n white Bel Air

rolled up a Jerusalem

fixed on a higher power

blasted our way out of there

out on some twisted ridge

black sky glittering we wandered

found ourselves counting stars

with our eyes so far away

when the cops finally showed

we didn’t even have to run

And we both wished we could do something

cut our hands

some kinda ritual

something to keep things at bay

something to swear all that we done

would still be so in the light of day

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