Tag Archives: singing

Aengus Gets It Right, by pd lyons; as published by the legendary


Aengus Gets It Right

breathe in the fever
perfect wood wind violin
single note shape sigh release
weightless tongues
sweet water curls up
fine black pearls clung
each finger brought to your rowan mouth
until unable to bear it any more
laugh and plunge
this time even deeper

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

where are you singing?
where are you dancing?
tonight in open spaces of my heart
memories keeping us together or apart
when life is only looking back
trading places with the dark
wisdom drawn with silver sticks
without books without roots
unspeakable night this time
I will not medicate fear
I will not dogma soul
I will wide open in the dark

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

as published by the legendary (May 20, 2010. Issue 17).

In Irish mythology, Óengus (Old Irish), Áengus (Middle Irish), or Aengus or Aonghus (Modern Irish), is a member of the Tuatha Dé Danann and probably a god of love, youth and poetic inspiration. He is also called Aengus Óg (“Aengus the young”), Mac ind Óg (“son of the young”), Mac Óg (“young son”) or Maccan. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aengus.

The Song of Wandering Aengus by W.B. Yeats (1865–1939) is one of my favourite poems, and of which this piece does refer to.  you can find the full text of Yeats work, along with another of my own relating to Yeats at this link https://pdlyons.wordpress.com/2014/06/15/somewhere-still-by-pd-lyons-for-donald-lyons-with-regards-to-wb-yeats/

CSC_6389

The Buddha Trees, by pd Lyons from Searches for Magic



I have escaped,

Not unscathed,

Finding myself

In a foreign country

Smoking endlessly free tobacco;

Finding myself

Only able to sit by this window

Looking at trees

One after the other.

I have escaped,

Not unscathed,

Finding myself

In new running shoes

Safe among strangers,

Finding myself

Only able to hear music in my head

The la  la la la la   la laaa

Of a woman’s voice,

As if asking,

Could I take up my instrument once more?

As if saying,

Together we could skip through spring once more.

As if trusting

The concealment of trees had been enough

.

~ from Searches for Magic by P.D. Lyons, Lapwing Publications, Belfast,2001

Wishing You the Constant Joy of Your Own Song ~ by PD Lyons


 

 

Wishing You the Constant Joy of Your Own Song

The artist whose voice

still goes right through me

most exquisite of them all

I know exact and precise

As if I really knew you ~

to be forever in that moment

to be forever that creation

Where always was your joy

That is exactly where

you should always be.

 

First time  you  were 21 years old

Toads Bar in New Haven

Flew straight through

First album

One gig

No banter

No break

Your voice went right through me.

Person I was with, rest of the place,  all  disappeared.

And I knew the only joy you’d ever know

Would be the art of your own creation.

Now decades come and go

Albums now CD’s

Politics a torture

religion and Family

curses and blessings

And me someone you’ll never know

What would I wish for you if I knew that wish would come true?

 

only august by pd lyons


i love rock and/or roll

i love rock and / or roll

 

 

~

only august

crows

almost quiet

only feather sounds

rising

almost still

only slow

steady beating

as if horses

finally

taught themselves

to march in order

across the fields

almost green

only smoky

spiral dust

almost damp descending

mirage

as if insects

finally taught themselves

to sing

like falling rain

across midday

almost yawning

only august

 

Aengus Gets It Right, by pd lyons; as published by the legendary


Aengus Gets It Right

breathe in the fever
perfect wood wind violin
single note shape sigh release
weightless tongues
sweet water curls up
fine black pearls clung
each finger brought to your rowan mouth
until unable to bear it any more
laugh and plunge
this time even deeper

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

 

where are you singing?
where are you dancing?
tonight in open spaces of my heart
memories keeping us together or apart
when life is only looking back
trading places with the dark
wisdom drawn with silver sticks
without books without roots
unspeakable night this time
I will not medicate fear
I will not dogma soul
I will wide open in the dark

 

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

as published by the legendary (May 20, 2010. Issue 17).

In Irish mythology, Óengus (Old Irish), Áengus (Middle Irish), or Aengus or Aonghus (Modern Irish), is a member of the Tuatha Dé Danann and probably a god of love, youth and poetic inspiration. He is also called Aengus Óg (“Aengus the young”), Mac ind Óg (“son of the young”), Mac Óg (“young son”) or Maccan. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aengus.

 

The Song of Wandering Aengus by W.B. Yeats (1865–1939) is one of my favourite poems, and of which this piece does refer to.  you can find the full text of Yeats work, along with another of my own relating to Yeats at this link https://pdlyons.wordpress.com/2014/06/15/somewhere-still-by-pd-lyons-for-donald-lyons-with-regards-to-wb-yeats/

 

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