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

PD Lyons-

Last Poem Before Oregon

Slept in groves of oranges

Visited by only wet nurse bees

Shaded by impossible leaves

Clouds the drifting shapes of which made harlequin

Dreams disturbed gently by nimble hums

A voice like Marcello young again

Lip sticking fully curved

Remember the time

We discovered our deep lush alikeness

And rose, perfect stamens

A fruit of aching beauty

Wrote

 

(for Olga Blue)

 

 

The City I Live In

stiletto fingers thorough search

organic testament

piercing releasing fluid

rainbow of bad colours

bread crumb numb

in the aftermath

in the mean time

the dry before place

cruellest patience

weight weight weight waiting

no exit

clung concrete tit

iron penis pierced

willing any peace for any price

for any sense of soothing

Pd Lyons-

As Long As Its You

When you breathe it is my name.

When you stare,

Your own eyes black pools,

Liquid movements synchronize my own.

Who knows me any better?

Naked throat? Beating heart?

You may heal. You may feed.

Whatever you do, as long as its you.

Neptunian

My ugliness raised in both hands

Almost expecting something from you

And if only I had a gun I woulda’ made you

And hated myself forever for being so desperate

If only I could believe 

Then how easy it would be

Walking away leaving you alone

Free at last to wander endless starry nights I always dream of

Instead I let you

 Tattoo blue around my mouth

  Tell me that I’m privileged

   

 After Last Call

Puke my guts out in the after last call parking lot

Of the now what am I gonna do

Still hometown married jails unavoided

Lucky having nothing to do with being alive

Benches wrapped in paper, nightmares unelaborate

Just boys with lighter fluid searching for someone sleeping.

Small Places

Small places where no one would ever go

Unless like myself

They had to shunning stars.

Not likely to tell me anything I don’t already know,

Shut up you heart breaking fuck.

When will you leave my head alone?

Non-linear pissing all over the seat.

Secret lover of cities,

You spoke like something would matter,

Like a hundred years,

Like a gunga din,

Long into the locust day

You said it made all the difference

And what was it? Different than what?

Televisions and telephones no way related to any woman ever known

But wait,

Who is willing to be a mother when even she must do the killing?

PD Lyons has been writing for along time and hopes to continue for even longer. Work has appeared in mags and zines in North America and UK. Two collections of poetry published by Lapwing Belfast.
  visit pdlyons blog for poetry publishing info and new releases:
    http://pdlyons.wordpress.com/