Tag Archives: pdlyonspoetryproject

north to rome – by pd lyons from Morning Movies


we took the train north to Rome
started with sweat and bullets
wishing for a better meal next stop
village by village dust bells along
following the steady steel rhythm

hours drift lulling with common motion
 landscapes we have come to know
keep pace as we imagined
being closer than we ever were
before leaving

Reggio Calabria

SAM_0003

Sometimes in this Writing Process from scraps to ruff to finish~ How the Goddess of Wisdom Taught Me the Tarantella as read by the poet


so the way this went was up in bed this morning after second coffee. only paper sticky notes (pink) sitting quiet spacey then this came first the tongues then other bits. Now I’ll transcribe into first ruff draft. this time using keyboard. sometimes a yellow pad is the first transcription. Sometimes there is only one sometimes there are many edits, the number depends on my things but mostly on my self. some photos of the original notes as you may see it is part of the illegible scribble that is an integral part of the process .

So the first bit =

And she said look

And I did seeing the play of sunlight slip

 along the green hills a silver streak above the valley

a river mirroring catching sapphires between the roiling cumulus clouds….

SO Right away i notice too many the’s breaking up the image. Also I need to look up cumulus to make sure hos are the clouds I want… lets try it this way ~

she said look so I did seeing the play of sunlight slip

 along green hills a silver streak along the valley

a river mirroring, catching sapphires from between cumulus clouds 

Or Wait Maybe This ?

she said look so I did seeing the play of sunlight slip

 along green hills a silver streak along the valley

a river mirroring, catching sapphires from between the cumulus…

So as you can tell or if not let me tell you it is a longish process sometimes. Anyway here’s the rest a first ruff ~

How the Goddess of Wisdom Taught Me the Tarantella 

she said look so I did seeing the play of sunlight slip

 along green hills a silver streak along the valley

a river mirroring, catching sapphires from between the cumulus 

she said sing

so i offered 

breathless wordless a what else can i do but be true refrain

harmonic of all i’d seen and all i’d ever see

she said dance

so we embraced a dance named for spiders

mingling sweat lead our lips to meet

undisciplined tongues ballerinas  inside our mouths

she said hush

so i  took breath 

together we sunk dampness upon a warm green earth

she said know

and I was certain.

and so as of 30 july 2021 this is where its at ~

How the Goddess of Wisdom Taught Me the Tarantella 

she said look

so I saw the play of sunlight slip

  green hills a silver streak along the valley

a river mirroring, catching sapphires between the cumulus 

 

she said sing

so i offered 

breathless wordless a true refrain

harmonic of all I’d seen

 all I’d ever see

 

she said dance

so, we embraced a dance named for spiders

 lead our lips to meet

our mouths undisciplined

tongues ballerinas

 

she said hush

so together we sank damp

upon a warm green earth

 

she said know

and I was certain.

north to rome – by pd lyons from Morning Movies


we took the train north to Rome
started with sweat and bullets
wishing for a better meal next stop
village by village dust bells along
following the steady steel rhythm

hours drift lulling with common motion
 landscapes we have come to know
keep pace as we imagined
being closer than we ever were
before leaving

Reggio Calabria

SAM_0003

Why We Like Rats Ass Review


http://ratsassreview.net/?page_id=1070

Well, besides their most excellent name, they also have very good poetical sense. Thankfully!

One of mine as published in Rats Ass Love & Ensuing Madness.

~

MY NIGHTWOOD

is somewhere else
 
on another shelf
 
on another table
 
by someone else’s bed
 
in the hands
 
of another woman
 
I no longer know.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nightwood

Djuna Barnes, photographer unknown

Djuna Barnes, photographer unknown

boomerz by pd lyons


Boomerz

I live only in memory
The day to day does not inspire me
I only want to sit here think about what used to be.

Here only in my own home.
Locked doors, paid taxes, insurance policies, protect me.
TV,  petrol chemicals, nourish me.

People not like me outrage me.

back to work on new book chipping away re edit bluez


 

“He repeated until his dying day that there was no one with more common sense, no stone cutter more obstinate, no manager more lucid or dangerous, than a poet.”
Gabriel Garcí­a Márquez

 

working on new poetry collection


title: The Girls

cover photo:

This Kitchen Poem


 This kitchen

Soft smoke secrets

Each ghost upon the gale

Welcome here

Each breath

Rare and gifted by such drifters

Visible in smoke

Audible in flame

Never alone.

original work by pd lyons

pdlyonspoet@yahooo.co.uk

wordless peacock poem


 

 

Wordless

Worldless

Within

Without

Will you

Won’t you

Want to Know?

salamander yellow


 

 

He saw a picture of you

He saw a picture of you today. Still there on Abbey St. Blonde hair like straw thatched out from under the rain soaked brim of that old black hat. There was mud on your wellies, there was a crooked smile on your face as if some wonderful power of secrets about to be told… and left to silence. How many years, how many miles, how many faces, strangers and places so called home? In a punch full of tears all at once he knew it wasn’t himself or them or even you but Dublin broke his heart.

 

 

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