And I would know the winter, by pd lyons

and would I know

the winter

and would I know

the winter

still sliding down

silvering the window

soft whispers

smoke secrets

between

the kitchen fire

and all those winter fires gone before

 

each ghost upon the gale

welcomed here beside the hearth

each breath of my own

rare and gifted by such drifters

visible only in the smoke

audible only in the flame

I am never alone in winter

 

I am sending my own messages

tobaccos scented

whiskey scented

seemingly pleasing

soon like crows

I will go

 

There is New Snow (one from the old notes) by pd lyons

So of course over the years I’ve ended up with a collection of a fair few note books. lately I’ve been combing through them for forgotten gems. So here with a light edit is this one. As for the quality of its gem-iness, well I leave that up to you the reader. cheers.

mix media by morgan lyons

There is New Snow

someone has spilled oats on the walk way.

from the stairway I watch below

crows with snow in contrast floating 

when my heart is soft enough to weep

then I will call you

when angels fall without escape

then they will think of us

when all the secrets of our lives revealed

then they will be as blue as they were hidden 

when you know everything that you somehow never knew

then you will know the sound of my soft heart calling you

Until then not wanting anything

all I need fits into the pockets of this coat.

There is New Snow (one from the old notes) by pd lyons

So of course over the years I’ve ended up with a collection of a fair few note books. lately I’ve been combing through them for forgotten gems. So here with a light edit is this one. As for the quality of its gem-iness, well I leave that up to you the reader. cheers.

mix media by morgan lyons

There is New Snow

 

someone has spilled oats on the walk way.

from the stairway I watch below

crows with snow in contrast floating 

 

when my heart is soft enough to weep

then I will call you

 

when angels fall without escape

then they will think of us

 

when all the secrets of our lives revealed

then they will be as blue as they were hidden 

 

when you know everything that you somehow never knew

then you will know the sound of my soft heart calling you

 

Until then not wanting anything

all I need fits into the pockets of this coat.

 

 

yes there will be another summer – poem by pd lyons

Bridget Shields Rose

Warm summer evening

Soft summer breezes

Stars through the windows

Warm steady breathing

Secretly dreaming

My love asleep in my arms

 

photographer unknown

Sitting, by pd lyons; from – once we knew the darkness

 

 

 

Sitting

A mans hands on a girls thighs

One on each rolls them out

A better view of what he’s dreamt for so long.

Muscular even in yielding

She allows her deep breath body freely.

Outside women talk how the year slips

School days into holidays beginning school again.

A woman in love writes her name

Moon soft ivory

Pale sky

By the Buddha

By the open window

Major piano chords

A simple charm

Like where in dreams we can’t be hurt.

A man begrudging poetry

Leaves out such things as joy

Hopes a mirage of his own making

Hides in clothes made from mistaken identities

Secrets like superman behind caped crusades

Although blurred some character always lurks

Despite the roles he thinks he should,

He thinks they want, he thinks he must.

A series of figures exchanged through out his life

Even the god he picks a model of dysfunction.

 

 

 

 

On My Mother’s Side, poetry by pd lyons

riverside waterbury ct

 

On My Mother’s Side

My mother never told me
The one thing I’d ‘a listened to most.
Diagnosed with cancer (7 years before it killed her.)
Deciding to keep it to herself,
She did exactly what it wanted –
Believing it was for her children’s benefit, how would she refuse?

Besides my mother came from a family of secrets
Dark Sicilian secrets emanated from
Every Sunday dinner table that ever was
Ebb   Flow   Echo   Repeat
Dance through generations none of us immune

~ free from all the ancient stories we
could have held the woman who gave us birth
cried any tears together
faced fear until it became compassion
looked into her eyes knowing it was goodbye
and that there would never be another word between us ~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“On My Mother’s Side” by PD Lyons read by Author
From “Caribu and Sister Stones” published by Belfast Lapwing 2009
ISBN 978-1-905425-90-7

why we like bone orchard poetry!!!!!!!!!!!! and its not just their very cool name

http://www.boneorchardpoetry.blogspot.ie/2012/11/pd-lyons.html

PD Lyons

 

No One Knows The Secrets Of Our Lives

Random moment somewhere ago

Summer tip-toe naked peers

Over our sweating shoulders

Amazed by shapes of all that is

Between us

Blood beating hearts

Shadowed stains gold

Heavy trees humidity

Curls smoky sea of stars

Spread wet across fantastic thighs

Beneath all the eyes of everything

Invisible mother of lost compassions

…and if every dance again could be of honest flesh

and every god be born again of woman?

Anorexia Nervosa

she has been

sacredness

to me

and in serving

her

i make an art,

of that which

words

have been forbidden

i express

on my tight

white

canvas

a tale

everyone wants

to interpret

i cling to it

like a charm

~

she has been

sacredness

to me

with secret dark

eyes closed

behind

a sea

of objects

so safe

she does not

move me

but rather

causes me

to linger

tip toe

from eternity

~

she has been

sacredness

to me

endowed

this ornamental flesh

a power

always yearned for

and i would

cut myself

open

for her

but this she

does not

ask for

~

Youth, Yoga, And Reincarnation/ for Diane

I am the darker mother

Walking away

The time is noon

The world in flames

We talk

You listen

But tears cannot bring us together

Our flesh not bound

By such things

I am the darker mother

Walking away

We shall not meet again