"lyons" poems - Hello Poetry

WEAVE no more silks, ye Lyons looms, To deck our girls for gay delights! The crimson flower of battle blooms, And solemn marches fill the night. Weave but the flag whose bars to-day Drooped heavy o’er our early dead, And homely garments, coarse and gray, For orphans that must earn their bread! Keep back your tunes, ye viols sweet, That poured delight from other lands! Rouse there the dancer’s restless feet: The trumpet leads our warrior bands. And ye that wage the war of words With mystic fame and subtle power, Go, chatter to the idle birds, Or teach the lesson of the hour! Ye Sibyl Arts, in one stern knot Be all your offices combined! Stand close, while Courage draws the lot, The destiny of human kind. And if that destiny could fail, The sun should darken in the sky, The eternal bloom of Nature pale, And God, and Truth, and Freedom die!

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5k

Julia Ward Howe

Our Orders

WEAVE no more silks, ye Lyons looms, To deck our girls for gay delights! The crimson flower of battle blooms, And solemn marches fill the night. Weave but the flag whose bars to-day Drooped heavy o’er our early dead, And homely garments, coarse and gray, For orphans that must earn their bread! Keep back your tunes, ye viols sweet, That poured delight from other lands! Rouse there the dancer’s restless feet: The trumpet leads our warrior bands. And ye that wage the war of words With mystic fame and subtle power, Go, chatter to the idle birds, Or teach the lesson of the hour! Ye Sibyl Arts, in one stern knot Be all your offices combined! Stand close, while Courage draws the lot, The destiny of human kind. And if that destiny could fail, The sun should darken in the sky, The eternal bloom of Nature pale, And God, and Truth, and Freedom die!

24

A old gentleman in a bar was sitting next to a very beat up man this tattered man He wore no shoes He smelled He was soaking wet and looked very pale. The old gentleman bought the man a beer and ask him what his story was the man told him that he was once a successful buissness owner a man of high class and standard. He wore the finest clothes, wore the most beautufl jewelry, and went on amazing journeys. The old gentleman began to laugh he sipped his drink looked over the man and asked him what happened the man told him that he was driving out in the country comming home from a buissness meeting He said he had been drinking and reached for his scotch when he looked up his car swirved in the lake water seaped in He said " water came rushing in so fast" the old gentleman looked down at his beer looked up and the man was nowhere to be seen he asked the bar keep if he saw where the man went the bar keep insisted that the old gentleman was crazy that he saw the old gentleman talking to himself... suddenly The old Gentleman heard a voice over the television " Good evening we have breaking news it appears that Lyon Lemon Owner of Inka Industries has gone missing. Police have recovered his viechle but with no trace of Lyon inside it. They've issued scuba divers to search for the Lyons body. We will keep you posted on this story. The old gentleman suddenly felt quezzy and uneasy. His lips dried, his skin went clammy, and his hair stood on the back of his neck. He knew he had seen Lyon not moments ago in the bar. The old gentle dropped a handfull of silver and paper on the counter and rushed out. Javier Timble once a Master Con Artist and a Cheat was now the one being fooled and tricked with. He knew the game that was being played on him and he was to have no part of being set up for a ****** Timble was shakened but was far from scared. As he walked out the bar he noticed wet footprints. But they were forming as if someone was walking. Timble again felt the rush of adrenline come into his heart he began to mutter to himself and wonder what kind of trick this was. Javier stepped slowly towards the footprints and noticed that there was letters forming on the wall to the right of him. slowly the words formed out to say "InKa"

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Oct 24, 2012

Oct 24, 2012 at 2:04 AM UTC

jam-rock

not finished but a start

A old gentleman in a bar was sitting next to a very beat up man this tattered man He wore no shoes He smelled He was soaking wet and looked very pale. The old gentleman bought the man a beer and ask him what his story was the man told him that he was once a successful buissness owner a man of high class and standard. He wore the finest clothes, wore the most beautufl jewelry, and went on amazing journeys. The old gentleman began to laugh he sipped his drink looked over the man and asked him what happened the man told him that he was driving out in the country comming home from a buissness meeting He said he had been drinking and reached for his scotch when he looked up his car swirved in the lake water seaped in He said " water came rushing in so fast" the old gentleman looked down at his beer looked up and the man was nowhere to be seen he asked the bar keep if he saw where the man went the bar keep insisted that the old gentleman was crazy that he saw the old gentleman talking to himself... suddenly The old Gentleman heard a voice over the television " Good evening we have breaking news it appears that Lyon Lemon Owner of Inka Industries has gone missing. Police have recovered his viechle but with no trace of Lyon inside it. They've issued scuba divers to search for the Lyons body. We will keep you posted on this story. The old gentleman suddenly felt quezzy and uneasy. His lips dried, his skin went clammy, and his hair stood on the back of his neck. He knew he had seen Lyon not moments ago in the bar. The old gentle dropped a handfull of silver and paper on the counter and rushed out. Javier Timble once a Master Con Artist and a Cheat was now the one being fooled and tricked with. He knew the game that was being played on him and he was to have no part of being set up for a ****** Timble was shakened but was far from scared. As he walked out the bar he noticed wet footprints. But they were forming as if someone was walking. Timble again felt the rush of adrenline come into his heart he began to mutter to himself and wonder what kind of trick this was. Javier stepped slowly towards the footprints and noticed that there was letters forming on the wall to the right of him. slowly the words formed out to say "InKa"

28

I remember when we on that sunny afternoon grabbed a Hanson to the Lyons tearooms we were rather jolly and full of mischief when in there you dropped your silk gloves I bent down to pick them up, slowly you did lift your skirt your legs did part, with a naughty devilish smile pert We drank Earl Grey by the *** full strawberry cream cakes with filling cool laughing how extraordinary it was to find each other both spirits of freedoms never forgotten you pushed a cream cake in my face and I got the cream down your blouse of lace Then we started kissing and wanting more that's when the staff showed us the door and as we ran down the muddy cobbled road you grabbed my arm and said let's stop I'm cold pulling me in with eyes of wanton lust you had your way with me at last By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris By NeonSolaris © 2013 NeonSolaris (All rights reserved)

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Aug 4, 2013

Aug 4, 2013 at 5:21 AM UTC

christos-andreas-kourtis

Tearoom Escapades

I remember when we on that sunny afternoon grabbed a Hanson to the Lyons tearooms we were rather jolly and full of mischief when in there you dropped your silk gloves I bent down to pick them up, slowly you did lift your skirt your legs did part, with a naughty devilish smile pert We drank Earl Grey by the *** full strawberry cream cakes with filling cool laughing how extraordinary it was to find each other both spirits of freedoms never forgotten you pushed a cream cake in my face and I got the cream down your blouse of lace Then we started kissing and wanting more that's when the staff showed us the door and as we ran down the muddy cobbled road you grabbed my arm and said let's stop I'm cold pulling me in with eyes of wanton lust you had your way with me at last By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris By NeonSolaris © 2013 NeonSolaris (All rights reserved)

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Mar 13, 2014

Mar 13, 2014 at 8:59 PM UTC

Where did that evening go, when I being under your spell danced real slow with you on the ballroom floor and you told me more in your hips that I ever knew? How time flew, those jewelled minutes flashed and waved me goodbye and now I remember,try not to forget how we met under the clock at Waterloo.I felt like a film star did you? and in the Strand at Lyons corner house, me, tongue tied and as quiet as any mouse you'd ever met I try to remember,sometimes I forget. We walked in the park by the palace, until it started to get dark and then quick off the mark in case you were thinking of going I, pretending to be all knowing said, 'I know of a place where we can dance cheek to cheek' I was thinking of dancing and looking into your face 'cause your smile was enchanting,my heart beat fast until at last you said, 'that's a good idea' The place that I knew was quite near,quite dear but I'd have paid an awful lot more how could I put a value on you,the dancefloor and me? we danced on and on and then it was midnight or gone one o-clock I try to forget but remember that look of surprised shock which narrowed your eyes. We said our goodnights but not our goodbyes for we were to meet the next time that time flies and I took you to the taxi rank where you thanked me with the most beautiful kiss and this was just the start. And still this heart of mine beats fast when I remember the look that you cast as the taxi drove down the cobbled street I think we'll meet again, and very soon, as soon as I wish again under the wishing well moon. I try to remember and when I forget I make a bet with myself that when time is right I'll remember again and remember again all through the night.

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Jul 2, 2013

Jul 2, 2013 at 7:16 AM UTC

john-edward-smallshaw

Jitterbug

Where did that evening go, when I being under your spell danced real slow with you on the ballroom floor and you told me more in your hips that I ever knew? How time flew, those jewelled minutes flashed and waved me goodbye and now I remember,try not to forget how we met under the clock at Waterloo.I felt like a film star did you? and in the Strand at Lyons corner house, me, tongue tied and as quiet as any mouse you'd ever met I try to remember,sometimes I forget. We walked in the park by the palace, until it started to get dark and then quick off the mark in case you were thinking of going I, pretending to be all knowing said, 'I know of a place where we can dance cheek to cheek' I was thinking of dancing and looking into your face 'cause your smile was enchanting,my heart beat fast until at last you said, 'that's a good idea' The place that I knew was quite near,quite dear but I'd have paid an awful lot more how could I put a value on you,the dancefloor and me? we danced on and on and then it was midnight or gone one o-clock I try to forget but remember that look of surprised shock which narrowed your eyes. We said our goodnights but not our goodbyes for we were to meet the next time that time flies and I took you to the taxi rank where you thanked me with the most beautiful kiss and this was just the start. And still this heart of mine beats fast when I remember the look that you cast as the taxi drove down the cobbled street I think we'll meet again, and very soon, as soon as I wish again under the wishing well moon. I try to remember and when I forget I make a bet with myself that when time is right I'll remember again and remember again all through the night.

34

The first kind of carnival I encountered besides at the county fair was a huge one on the far outer reaches of the North Bronx on the way to Yonkers and White Plains call Freedomland. I remember Disneyland and the black licorice drops there at the old time confectionary store. I hope to go to Disney World in my lifetime. AS far as a regular circus I went to one when I was on a locked ward (we were let out under supervision) at the Lyons New Jersey UAMC. I was so desperately feeling like a failure due to confinement, and felt such hopelessness, that I contemplated joining the circus as a roustabout, but it seemed futile in the big picture, after all, I felt because I'd just be going from the frying pan into the fire success or lack thereof wise. I think I noticed a certain clown looking at me out of the corner of his eyes and reading my mind there and letting me know I'd mad e the fright decision, and seeing a choice female acrobat stride by that reminded me that I wanted to start a family someday and stars of circuses are probably kept separate from the roustabouts. I can remember going to the Ringling Bros. and Barnum and Bailey circus with my mother as a kid and being thrilled at the taste of the cotton candy, the lion tamer doing his thing , the smell of the sawdust, and the ringmaster of that 3 ring circus and his whip. I was in awe. In the meantime I was going to local carnivals and trying my hand with the pellet gun shooting sitting ducks that passed by in front of the king in the hall of mirrors, and going on the roller coasters and the Ferris wheel. Later I went to the Barnum and Bailey circus as an adult and the trapeze artist, especially the female ones and , for example the parade of the Arabian horsed, thrilled me too. I also took my foster son to a carnival and the sorta juvenile delinquent erstwhile deprived kid-he was, I though. I got a thrill out of him seeming impressed. Enough of this, not that it's syrupy sentimentality, which I find enough in my poetry to have a sense of failure there but maybe kind of exercise in senility.

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Feb 16, 2017

Feb 16, 2017 at 1:42 PM UTC

charles-sturies

Some Personal Memories of the Circus and Carnivals

The first kind of carnival I encountered besides at the county fair was a huge one on the far outer reaches of the North Bronx on the way to Yonkers and White Plains call Freedomland. I remember Disneyland and the black licorice drops there at the old time confectionary store. I hope to go to Disney World in my lifetime. AS far as a regular circus I went to one when I was on a locked ward (we were let out under supervision) at the Lyons New Jersey UAMC. I was so desperately feeling like a failure due to confinement, and felt such hopelessness, that I contemplated joining the circus as a roustabout, but it seemed futile in the big picture, after all, I felt because I'd just be going from the frying pan into the fire success or lack thereof wise. I think I noticed a certain clown looking at me out of the corner of his eyes and reading my mind there and letting me know I'd mad e the fright decision, and seeing a choice female acrobat stride by that reminded me that I wanted to start a family someday and stars of circuses are probably kept separate from the roustabouts. I can remember going to the Ringling Bros. and Barnum and Bailey circus with my mother as a kid and being thrilled at the taste of the cotton candy, the lion tamer doing his thing , the smell of the sawdust, and the ringmaster of that 3 ring circus and his whip. I was in awe. In the meantime I was going to local carnivals and trying my hand with the pellet gun shooting sitting ducks that passed by in front of the king in the hall of mirrors, and going on the roller coasters and the Ferris wheel. Later I went to the Barnum and Bailey circus as an adult and the trapeze artist, especially the female ones and , for example the parade of the Arabian horsed, thrilled me too. I also took my foster son to a carnival and the sorta juvenile delinquent erstwhile deprived kid-he was, I though. I got a thrill out of him seeming impressed. Enough of this, not that it's syrupy sentimentality, which I find enough in my poetry to have a sense of failure there but maybe kind of exercise in senility.

9

I am from grease, From Valvoline and mineral oil I am from green grass surrounded by dead trees (Heady, damp, somehow always smelling of jasmine and mint) I am from lilies, Tempered and beautiful in her rage I am from perseverance and moxie From Lyons and Rob I’m from the never cries and please no secrets From death is imminent and shrill screams of my name I’m from losing my faith to an illness, it that stole more than an ***** from me I’m from chocolate turtles and Smarties, from pixie stick dusk wafting up my nose From the ghost of my mother in the kitchen cooking, to her ghost that envelopes my soul The colors cut and healed beneath her skin that I caress carefully, The ink faded on her wrist as she succumbs to lividity My grandmother holding her picture as she weeps quietly, Her voice dichotic in my ears as I watch videos on a screen Those photos, her headstone, grounding me deeply into my grief, like a needle piercing cracked jewels into my mind

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Jan 26, 2020

Jan 26, 2020 at 6:54 PM UTC

madiwadi

I am From Demise

I am from grease, From Valvoline and mineral oil I am from green grass surrounded by dead trees (Heady, damp, somehow always smelling of jasmine and mint) I am from lilies, Tempered and beautiful in her rage I am from perseverance and moxie From Lyons and Rob I’m from the never cries and please no secrets From death is imminent and shrill screams of my name I’m from losing my faith to an illness, it that stole more than an ***** from me I’m from chocolate turtles and Smarties, from pixie stick dusk wafting up my nose From the ghost of my mother in the kitchen cooking, to her ghost that envelopes my soul The colors cut and healed beneath her skin that I caress carefully, The ink faded on her wrist as she succumbs to lividity My grandmother holding her picture as she weeps quietly, Her voice dichotic in my ears as I watch videos on a screen Those photos, her headstone, grounding me deeply into my grief, like a needle piercing cracked jewels into my mind

18

Penguin and Platypus Penguin and Platypus put on their hats and coats, Took the train to Manchester to find themselves a goat, Found themselves, in the middle, of an orchestra playing Bach. Asked to join the fiddlers, to give them a second chance. After the rain clouds dropped in for tea, Decided that the goat was now nowhere to be seen, Inside Lyons Corner House had hot chocolate and cream. Caught the train back to Stroud, And ran home across the green. For Evelyn and all those who are gorgeously mad. Love Grandma ***

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Jan 30, 2018

Jan 30, 2018 at 9:08 AM UTC

mary-gay-kearns

Penguin and Platypus

Penguin and Platypus Penguin and Platypus put on their hats and coats, Took the train to Manchester to find themselves a goat, Found themselves, in the middle, of an orchestra playing Bach. Asked to join the fiddlers, to give them a second chance. After the rain clouds dropped in for tea, Decided that the goat was now nowhere to be seen, Inside Lyons Corner House had hot chocolate and cream. Caught the train back to Stroud, And ran home across the green. For Evelyn and all those who are gorgeously mad. Love Grandma ***

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Gilgal Oasis Green Sand Of an Unseen Tribe Water en Circled Life Lyons Gateway Love's Meandering Rose A Woman... ISher White A Lions White Titanium Mystery Unspoken Infinity Dark Rose of FAITH Turning, Listening Smile She Met My Gaze Power Greeting Peace Felt All of It Ruben Red Coloring For a Rose Ex Libris

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Apr 19, 2016

Apr 19, 2016 at 2:33 PM UTC

kw3

Red Stone

Gilgal Oasis Green Sand Of an Unseen Tribe Water en Circled Life Lyons Gateway Love's Meandering Rose A Woman... ISher White A Lions White Titanium Mystery Unspoken Infinity Dark Rose of FAITH Turning, Listening Smile She Met My Gaze Power Greeting Peace Felt All of It Ruben Red Coloring For a Rose Ex Libris

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It's been months since I've last been The water took the melody line And destruction became the harmony Leaving dissonance in its wake And trees bent to play that Minor tune Mud rose inch after inch, Outlining the beat of this Soaked symphony It's in duple meter No scratch that, it was in triple, The tempo was about 200 waves per minute The screech of wood scraping Wood had short solos With arpeggios And the sound of sirens and Screaming crescendoed this Soaked symphony The different pitches were so ranged in tonality that people had No chance to save the time To pick up things they need The splash splash splash was the Ostenato in the background Perhaps a pedal tone And the drip drip drip Made anyone who heard the piece shudder so violently They were shivering and Quivering Like an arrow shot from a now Thus the effect of the Soaked symphony Played in the orchestra pit of Lyons Colorado

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May 26, 2014

May 26, 2014 at 3:11 PM UTC

iris-rebry

Lyons

It's been months since I've last been The water took the melody line And destruction became the harmony Leaving dissonance in its wake And trees bent to play that Minor tune Mud rose inch after inch, Outlining the beat of this Soaked symphony It's in duple meter No scratch that, it was in triple, The tempo was about 200 waves per minute The screech of wood scraping Wood had short solos With arpeggios And the sound of sirens and Screaming crescendoed this Soaked symphony The different pitches were so ranged in tonality that people had No chance to save the time To pick up things they need The splash splash splash was the Ostenato in the background Perhaps a pedal tone And the drip drip drip Made anyone who heard the piece shudder so violently They were shivering and Quivering Like an arrow shot from a now Thus the effect of the Soaked symphony Played in the orchestra pit of Lyons Colorado

32

"...I WOULD GIVE YOU BACK YOURSELF..." ( for Jeremy Lyons ) Here in our summer is Edward's thrush as it "twiddles its song." perhaps the very same one flying through time from mind to mind. Here in this moment I see through Thomas's eyes that I "have two million things to learn." I walking across the landscape of his thought. I too forever" in pursuit of spring." Time holds us in his hand man and bird sharing the same moment. The shell blast over Arras as Easter commences its offensive. The man you were lost in light and twilight I following in the footsteps of your words. ***

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Oct 29, 2017

Oct 29, 2017 at 5:45 PM UTC

donall-dempsey

"...I WOULD GIVE YOU BACK YOURSELF..." ( for Jeremy Lyons )

"...I WOULD GIVE YOU BACK YOURSELF..." ( for Jeremy Lyons ) Here in our summer is Edward's thrush as it "twiddles its song." perhaps the very same one flying through time from mind to mind. Here in this moment I see through Thomas's eyes that I "have two million things to learn." I walking across the landscape of his thought. I too forever" in pursuit of spring." Time holds us in his hand man and bird sharing the same moment. The shell blast over Arras as Easter commences its offensive. The man you were lost in light and twilight I following in the footsteps of your words. ***

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