Fevers of the Mind Poetry Blog

The blog will now be updating with frequent and honorary contributors periodically. Check out the contributors bios and author pics as they are added through announcement posts on the blog. 

Meet the Fevers of the Mind WolfPack Pt 1: David L O’Nan & HilLesha O’Nan

Meet the Fevers of the Mind WolfPack Team Maggs Vibo & R.D. Johnson

Meet the Fevers of the Mind Wolfpack E. Samples & Tony Aiken

Meet the Fevers of the Mind Wolfpack: Shiksha Dheda & Tim Heerdink

Meet the Fevers of the Mind WolfPack: Samantha Terrell & A.R. Salandy

Meet the Fevers of the Mind WolfPack: Charlotte Hamrick & Lawrence Moore

Meet the Fevers of the Mind WolfPack: Sarika Jaswani & Michael Igoe

Meet the Fevers of the Mind WolfPack Team: James Diaz,Kari Flickinger, Jennifer Patino & Maxine Rose Munro

Several more Fevers of the Mind WolfPack members to welcome: Linda M Crate, Peter Hague, Faye Alexandra Rose, Z.R. Ghani, Jackie Chou, Katrina Kaye, Margaret Royall, Nina Parmenter & Rickey Rivers Jr.

Meet the Fevers of the Mind WolfPack: Barney Ashton-Bullock, Vicky Allen, Lisa Mary Armstrong & Sarra Culleno

Meet the newest WolfPack Members: Tristan Moss, Rosie Johnston, John Everex, Ivan Peledov, Karlo Sevilla, Foy Timms, Coby Daniels

Welcome these new Fevers of the Mind WolfPack Members: Sadie Maskery, Jeremy T. Karn & Briony Collins

Meet the newest WolfPack contributor: Constance Bourg

Meet the Fevers of the Mind WolfPack Team: Ilari Pass & Catrice Greer (poetry book reviews)

Meet the Fevers of the Mind WolfPack: Martins Deep, Ryan Flett, James Lilley & Gayle Greenlea

Meet the Fevers of the Mind WolfPack: Will Schmit, Charlotte Oliver, Scott Cumming, Z.D. Dicks

Meet the Fevers of the Mind Wolfpack: Simon Zec, Robin McNamara,Anisha Kaul, Annest Gwilym

Meet the Fevers of the Mind WolfPack: Ethan McGuire, Neel Trivedi, Kushal Poddar & M.S. Evans

Meet more Fevers of the Mind WolfPack Team: Rachael Ikins, Moira J Saucer, Elisabeth Horan & Peach Delphine

*On our blog we will put up

content from our Anthologies and books. This content will come and go periodically when space is needed*  

About Editor David L O’Nan

Follow me on Twitter @DavidLONan1 and Fevers of the Mind  @feversof  and on Facebook: DavidLONan1

For More go to Amazon and look for the Fevers of the Mind Press Presents the Poets of 2020 Deluxe Edition paperback & kindle  Split editions Volumes 1 & 2 from the Deluxe edition available on paperback (look for post on Fevers of the Mind Press Presents the Poets of 2020 to know who are contributors in each book), Fevers of the Mind Poetry Digest Volumes 1-3 available on paperback and kindle. Also there is a Poetry Only combination book of Volumes 1 & 2:  Avalanches in Poetry: Writings & Art Inspired by Leonard Cohen available on Paperback & Kindle.   My poetry books (David L O’Nan) New Disease Streets (November 2020) The Cartoon Diaries (2019) Taking Pictures in the Dark (February 2021) also available on Amazon.  For my Amazon Author Page (may not have all listed at first)  I have had work published in Icefloe Press, Royal Rose Magazine, Truly U, Dark Marrow an offshoot of Rhythm & Bones Lit, Ghost City,  3 Moon Publishing, Elephants Never, Nymphs Publishing, Heroin-Chic & more. I have edited 5 Anthology editions & have poetry, prose, short stories, photography in Fevers of the Mind Poetry (&Art) Digest/Avalanches in Poetry Writings & Art Inspired by Leonard Cohen.  A Best of the Net Nominee for 2021.

Poem by R.D. Johnson: “Just a Scratch” (new poetry)

Just a Scratch

See you used to scratch me
That first one showed the lines 
First contact, first strike
Caught off guard by your words and actions 
And how they both affect me physically and mentally
The next time you went for blood
The blood permeated the layers of the subcutaneous and cutaneous 
Oxidized and oozed 
You knew how go take things up a notch
You became a mosquito that was drunk off blood
Wanted to be the life of the party
Knowing the very thing you were doing was killing you inside too
But you still continued
You finally scratched me hard that you went deep 
The scars from before reopened as the pain and suffering 
Became your fountain of youth 
But for me it was getting old
To me, it was to time to scratch em back
And let me feel the rage
Of doing what you’ve done to me
All these years
And I just sat there and let you do it
I look at the mental scars I have left 
As the memories of where I was 
And how far I came
And I’m glad to see those marks
Are fading away 

Poem by Peach Delphine: wave is a circular motion (poetry repost)

Out of the wound
we come singing
a chorus of wings
swallowed by daylight.

Hand that balances wind
waiting on the surface,
out from the creek, free diving,
descending from surface warmth,
gathering shells,
ascending in one long exhalation,
leaving the squeeze of depth
and coldness behind.

There is a voice in lightless sea,
entering through eye,
answering voice of shadow
buried beneath sternum
coiled about spine, always
we feel the vibrations
in our feet and hands
always we feel the wire
of edge, the burnished arc
of time.

This form has become shadow
of cloud, darkening shallows
for a moment, turtle grass,
blue crabs, bonnethead sharks,
ponderous and seeking tongue
of horse conch, the sea is indifferent
to this body, the multiplicity of forms
has buoyed me out past the Key of memory
into the open Gulf of sapphire
reflected in your eyes.

Surfacing breathless, unfolded

from palms the optic remains unspoken,
fronds shimmering with morning,
a spent shell lifted from shallows,
empty of body,
my own emptiness filled with sea
restlessly seeking reunification
with the greater body
an ebb and flow of so many small voices
in the roots of mangrove,
a clinging of barnacles
to our mothering wood,
leaves of voices lifting
to azure, a different blue
than your eyes reflecting
sea and horizon.

from palms the optic remains unspoken,
fronds shimmering with morning,
a spent shell lifted from shallows,
empty of body,
my own emptiness filled with sea
restlessly seeking reunification
with the greater body
an ebb and flow of so many small voices
in the roots of mangrove,
a clinging of barnacles
to our mothering wood,
leaves of voices lifting
to azure, a different blue
than your eyes reflecting
sea and horizon.

Peach Delphine is a queer poet from Tampa, Florida. Infatuated with what remains of the undeveloped Gulf coast.

2 new poems by Michael Igoe : “Inborn” & “Funeral Lilies”

           

Inborn

Underneath a chassis,
a white glove touches
greasy stacks of boxes.
The bullets inside them
spill out on cold ground.
A file of sultry generals
assembles in a building.
In the shape of a Basilica.
Scarved girls
at work within
are busy washing
their china dishes.
To find themselves
not quite so lonely
when dishwashing.

 Funeral Lilies

Necessary arrangements
are taking up more time.
Following rigid orders ,
we pick those flowers that bloom in skeletons.
Straightening creases,
ones real or imagined.
We read the rumors,
in the gossip column
we put them all down
to a misunderstanding.
Thanks to St. Jude,
for favors granted.
He’s close to the kin,
who perish among us.
But ones assembled,
give him due respect.
It seemed odd,
to think it’s sad,
achieving a thrill.
Using only one word
that soothes our soul.
At a hot dog pit
south of 95th
we will arrive
at his funeral.
We meet brazen kings making no mistakes
about power wielded
A Kansas City woman
calls a broom a rocket.
To match things up
she took a chance
to stand in line
so she can shake
the mayor’s hand.
She sure hoped he’d die
when he stole the election.
They both sit in the grandstands,
between the one eyed vagabonds.

Michael igoe, city boy, neurodiverse, Chicago now Boston.Numerous works appear in journals online and in print. Recent: Spare Change News(Cambridge MA), flyovercountryliterarymagazine.com, linktre.e/derailleurpress. Anthologies:The Poets of 2020, Avalanches In Poetry(Fevers of the Mind Press).National Library of Poetry Editor’s Choice Award 1997, Feather Pen Blog Best Poem of 2020. Twitter: MichaelIgoe5. Urban Realism, Surrealism. I like the Night.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         

A Blossom For Your Song: Poetry by Samantha Terrell

Samantha Terrell

A Blossom For Your Song

We discovered
Bossa Nova when
The forsythia and
Weeping cherry were
In bloom,
Outside the living room

Where you
Swirled me
Round – a blur of cream and blue
Upholstery –
Dips
And Spins

Made easy
On the hardwood floor.
You’ve always been a better dancer than me.
I’m a petal in your
Palm,
A blossom for your song.