Tag Archives: poetry

an old guy walking #pdlyons #photography #horses & red bird


grass is always greener – even if its a driveway

an old guy

walking on the side of the road

rain soft across my face

bird songs my smile

the wind sings through my bones

ancient instruments loving the moon

born in the month of strawberries.

Soft like snow

Every movement

A steady meticulous tenderness

muddy corner

by the gate

one horse waits

walking by

Those Long Always Summer Huge Silver Moon Nights the Colour of Your Soul Because They Are.

And you could reach out for my hand and I would take it

And you could whisper me questions and I would answer

And you could open my mouth bringing breath to me

And I the same with you –

A gift of moon

 of soul

of all those long always summer nights between us.

october summer writing session music w/ Miles, Thelonious & P D


october and all sun

so cool the air seems extra with oxygen

how simpatico 

the discovery of Miles meets Thelonious

the music for todays writing session

the music for easy deep breathing



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


Tiananmen Square, Two Poems by Davyne Verstandig read by PD Lyons

So the other day sorting out book shelves and come across a 1990 Magazine called Hobo Jungle ~ a Quarterly Journal of New Writing. It was published by Ruth Boeger/ Marc Erdich in Roxbury Ct. The reason I still have it? Well they were one of the first to publish my work and the very first to send me a check for my poetry. In fact I’m sure I still have a xerox copy of that check in some box some where in then house. Any way the point is flipping through I cam across a striking piece of work which led me to look up the poet and write asking if I could reprint their work here and so with permission of this very fine artist I will blog the 2 poems and give some links to their bio and website. The first one is in my opinion a perfection of the micro~dot poem. Ruthlessly elegant and mercilessly immersed in reality. The short poem is almost impossible to be read out loud and remain effective although I’ll give it a go along with the other piece further on but first read it silently out loud to yourself. Thank you for your time.

IMG-1487 (1)

IMG-1488 (1)


Davyne Verstandig


Davyne Verstandig was a lecturer in English and Creative Writing at the University of Connecticut. (retired June 2020 after 25 years.)

Her books include two books of poetry, Pieces of the Whole and Provisions and her work appears in Sex and Sexuality in a Feminist World, Songs of the Marrow BoneWhere Beach Meets OceanThis One Has No Name, The Monday Poets, and the forth coming anthology with an introduction by Margaret Gibson, CT Poet Laureate, Waking Up to the Earth, Connecticut Poets in a Time of Global Climate Crisis.

She has also performed improvisational work “composing on the tongue” painting and poetry at The Knitting Factory and Housing Works Café in New York City and given readings throughout New England.

She gives writing workshops at Wisdom House Retreat Center in Litchfield, CT. and at Camp Washington Episcopal Retreat Center in Morris, Ct.

She is Poet Laureate Emerita of Washington and is a Justice of the Peace. She can be found at mymindisintheink@gmail.com. She is a writing consultant.

Books available on Amazon, some at The Hickory Stick Bookshop, Washington, Ct.
Pieces of the Whole – poetry
Provisions- poetry
Sex and Sexuality if a Feminist World
This One Has No Name 
The Monday Poets
Laureates of Connecticut, An Anthology of Contemporary Poetry
Waking Up to the Earth, Connecticut Poets in a Time of Global Climate Crisis

In this hard Rocky Earth/ #pd lyons #poetry #stonework #wildroses #fore #westmeath #ireland


In this hard rocky earth

what have our bones become

what nourished creatures by our flesh alive

as if we really immortal

thought our marked stones  be cared for

remembered only by the wind


Fore,County Westmeath

Bridget Shields Rose

Bridget Shields Rose

from 2006 notes found in a box today. thanks for stopping by.

On Today’s Menu #NK Jemisin #ravens #patience

three ruffs written and read by pd lyons poet 

On Today’s Menu

N K Jemisin



With regards to N. K. Jemisin ~ if you have any love left for the genre do yourself an exquisite favour and indulge immediately in these three fine beauties! intricate, dense without reverting into obtuse and not a cliché in site. I loved every minuet of them. Not since my father gave me Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings have I ever read a trilogy more than once. But now…



Baskin-Robbins, poetry and photo by pd lyons


Sixty- two Chevy pick up
Bondo dust and shot exhaust
Your brother driving 84 east
Neil on the radio
I smoked a million cigarettes
So you wouldn’t try n kiss me
Not cause of that but because your brother already wanted to kill me
Was only driving me to Waterbury
So I wouldn’t have no excuse
To hang around you

Cowgirl in the sand


Year Book & Tramuda Blues by pd Lyons as printed in Muse Pie Press – Shot Glass Journal 2016

Thank you to the folks at Muse Pie Press- Shot Glass Journal


for including two of mine in the issue #20 September 2016. It is nice to be wanted!

Year Book

these are the streets
I came from.
these are the people I knew;
who were gonna live forever.

names I cannot now recall
ways that I cannot find
places no longer there
unrecognisable even in daylight.

if you live long enough
no one will know what you’re talking about.

Tramuda Blues

woke up this afternoon
my arms still felt like they were holding you.
I had been dreaming about you,
probably because I slept cold on the floor
and wanted to be warm.

I tried to work some but your presence kept distracting me
until I couldn’t help but give in.
got dressed. got out by the reservoir
just in time to watch the first sunset of the year
when my breath came up like smoke



Rededicated to Texas.


as read by the author ~

In My Country

Women walk on eggshells

The way they dress is a rapist’s defence strategy

Their silence confers consent

Their bodies always up for grabs

In every way

There is no privacy especially of the womb

They may be legally and religiously sacrificed on the altar of boys-will-be-boys

They may be murdered at will

But have dubious right to self defence

They are not heard

They are not believed

They are not counted

Their labour not valued

That they are                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                     

Our mothers

Our sisters

Our daughters

Our beloved

May be conveniently ignored

Easier then to believe,

They are property

of the god

of the party

the state



The work of pd Lyons has appeared in print and online publications throughout the world. Poetry collections have been published by Lapwing Press, Belfast, erbacce-Press, Liverpool & Westmeath Arts Council Ireland. pd was selected to participate in Human Rights Consortium at the School of Advanced Study, University of London publication titled ‘In Protest: 150 Poems for Human Rights’.

He won the 2019 erbacce-press International Poetry Prize.

pd was and raised in the USA, and currently resides in Ireland.

pd recommends Battered Women’s Support Services.

as appearing in Unlikely Stories  unlikelystories.org 


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