Tag Archives: youth

Thank you all at Unlikely Stories Mark V !


https://www.unlikelystories.org/content/anorexia-nervosa-and-youth-yoga-and-reincarnation-for-diane

1Anorexia 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
a 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.

2

Battered Women’s Services ~ https://www.bwss.org/

Thank you all at Unlikely Stories Mark V !


https://www.unlikelystories.org/content/anorexia-nervosa-and-youth-yoga-and-reincarnation-for-diane

1Anorexia 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
a 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.

2

Battered Women’s Services ~ https://www.bwss.org/

the body has its own karma –


THE BODY HAS ITS OWN KARMA

paris by pd lyons

truth of youth


stronger

sleeker

smarter

better

wet ourselves at the sight of each other

Stainless Unmarked Sky, from Myths of Multiplicity by pd lyons, the runner up for the 2014 erbacce prize for poetry


Stainless Unmarked Sky

Single bed against a powder green wall
Magazine photos yellow cellophane taped
Favourite red t-shirt no underwear
30/06 lever action
Blue barrel fingerprints
Weevil tick toes
A Fly between the glass hums
Until heat makes everything
Even outside
Still.

Beneath that shirt
Each little island bump
Up to where if a boy
An Adams apple‘d be.
Knee steady, butt-end
On a white board floor
Spidering fingers
Raw cotton breath
Knowing it’s loaded
Stainless unmarked
Alone in that room

Sky.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

where does sky begin

Myths of Multiplicity by pd lyons, the runner up for the 2014 erbacce prize for poetry

Myths of Multiplicity by pd lyons, the runner up for the 2014 erbacce prize for poetry

 

opiates, by pd lyons


our slender youth

silver blood

cool

night pearls

unstrung dawn

every reason in the world

 sunlight avoided

~

pdlyons photo

pdlyons photo

Baby It’s You, by pd lyons from old songs


Baby It’s You

cross well polished floors
games the size of life and death
reckless
how else could it be
matching my heart
with your steel

way over my head
cause baby it’s you

 

 

 

 

 

Days Are Always Going On by pd lyons


 

 

 

DSC_0752

 

Days are always going on

Streams of hours like cars, trucks, motorcycles

Steadily scrambling through

As if on some desperate mission

Important business somewhere else

Not very often quiet

Hardly any attention to my imagined rules of the road

I am not important enough

For a slow down –

 

Lucky the buggers haven’t come full stop yet I suppose.

 

DSC_0764

the extent of his youth by pd lyons


ties that bind (2)

ties that bind (2)

the extent of his youth

up the road to the next town

with a girl he knew from high school and her kid

grey clap board bungalow

breakers on the rocks below

reminding him only of working boats.

he loved that kid more then he loved anyone

took her out for sweets and ice cream at the corner shop

taught her how to skate and hold a hockey stick on black ice lakes

almost ended up in jail trying to get that Barbie House for Christmas.

eventually she left him.

bottoms of too many bottles between ‘em.

never heard from her again.

but got  letters from the kid.

eventually dwindled through the years.

now an almost annual event.

doing good .

miss you so much.

when can I see you?

how come I cant see you?

finished school .

moved away from  mom.

someday I’m gonna come see you.

just show up, you’ll see.

we’ll get together.

never forget you.

just like a real dad to me.

first published by Boyne Berries, Meath Ireland. in issue 7 spring 2010  http://boynewriters.com/index.html

wrote this when living in Canada back in the early ’00’s . kinda self explanatory. i don’t often make friends but while there, i met a man who was just a kindred spirit. a tuff old fellow with a heart of pure gold. this is loosely based on some of his experiences in his younger days.

DSC_8708

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

 

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