for my dear friend from long ago and far away. remember?
Rose was the first thought
Remembering was coming
But put back
Almost worn out
Now – where roses bloom
Not trying
For anything
Now – where roses bloom
Not trying
For anything
Now – when I am
And am not
Then or pretty soon
Or never or forever
Now
When words burn meaningless
Giving warmth to bodies not left behind
The thoughts are all
Growing like flowers
Coiling like snakes
Blooming gaping
Snakes and flowers
The flesh we care for
The planet we care for
The stars we strive for –
Close you eyes
See .
Sept.12.73 for Loretta.
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VIDEO
enjoy some peace and quiet
all photographs by pd lyons ©2020 For more please visit, Pdlyons’s Explorations Irish American Poetry Photography Worldwide ~ pdlyons.wordpress.com
Fore Abbey
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she to her own personal buddha
asks
again.
~
the answer
same again.
~
of course she said smiling at her self
again.
~
as if in reiteration
the buddha
yawns
meows
again.
.
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VIDEO
enjoy some peace and quiet
all photographs by pd lyons ©2020 For more please visit, Pdlyons’s Explorations Irish American Poetry Photography Worldwide ~ pdlyons.wordpress.com
Fore Abbey
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she to her own personal buddha
asks
again
~
the answer
same again
~
of course she said smiling at her self
again
~
then as if in reiteration
the buddha
yawns
meows
again
.
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VIDEO
enjoy some peace and quiet
all photographs by pd lyons ©2020 For more please visit, Pdlyons’s Explorations Irish American Poetry Photography Worldwide ~ pdlyons.wordpress.com
Fore Abbey
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Roses swollen with rain
full breasts dreaming for the hungry mouths of bees
soft in a gold of sunshine sung by small birds invisible
day dream ripples dull grey puddle answers spilling over the edge
storm gutters blocked by neglect
and wishes would ride the open mouth kisses of our own
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a leaf
a blade of grass
the ground we walk on
the air we breathe?
the sky blue
the sky black
stars slowly shifting
phases of the moon
the sun setting
the sun rising?
what is the ordinary?
clear water
salt water
tides changing
river motion
the scent of roses
buzz of insects
birds singing
birds upon the wing
shapes of shifting clouds
the sound of rain upon warm pavement
what is the ordinary?
your birth
your self
your child
your lover
your life
your death
what is the ordinary?
explain it to me please
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By pdlyons
|
Posted in ruff , Uncategorized
|
Also tagged birth , clouds , life and death , ocean , ordinary , pdlyons photos , phases of the moon , rain pavement , river , shape shift , sky black stars
|
indian pipe @ sleeping giant
might be a moment in winter
a tinsel a star gone astray
~
maybe first color of Autumn
geese not yet on the wing
~
might be your birthday’s in April
someone with curls in their hair
~
or maybe someone with roses
whistling all summery with out a care?
~
there’s not really any rhyme or reason
not really any way to prepare
~
whenever I cry I see you
whenever I cry you’re still here
~
41.530097 -73.013440
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When we Lived on Nelson Ave.
days when my father took milk and sugar leaving the spoon in his coffee my mother whistled among lilacs and roses mahogany furniture kept well polished and special knives and forks only used on holidays
I knew the name of Lilly of the valley not to ever put them in your mouth
there were kittens in the sun porch we watched born from a tabby cat named Felix
there were cherries from our backyard tree so red I thought they were black, tasting like no cherries ever would again
http://www.bluelotusreview.com/archives/su2010/pdlyons.html
a version of this poem is included in the collection : Caribu – poetry by pd lyons
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