6 Short Poems from David L O’Nan “Country Living Back When” “A Ticket to the Rodeo” “A Scandal for Vultures” “Supermoon” “On the Run From the Deluge” “Burning Mazes”

COUNTRY LIVING BACK WHEN

We came from fields of rotten smells.
Dreamt up the 1950’s ideal man.
Then he threw us around.
Hid in his hideaway smirks.
Drank by the pond
and sung Hank Williams to the catfish.
We called him grandpa
as he called us losers and tramps.
He was built by the machines.
We must live our lives
like a cartoon idea
from the daily paper.

We are neglected,
accomplishing only how to grease our hair
and become misogynists.
You know what the devils would see,
and report to the newsies.
How you are not truly ideal at all
when you sit there
on a hill of sunsets
…peeling the flesh off the rose petals.

A TICKET TO THE RODEO

Eyes across the blind rodeo
Red handkerchief bandanas
Clash into a pastel fade of dirty air
Wrestling this old dream
Bull ropes suffocating clarity
Whipping me with consistency
Lashes to my skin
Burns in sips of breath
Take my hand, from this grave
Now silent and indolent

A SCANDAL FOR VULTURES

Combing through the dirt for the symbols we lost
Meet me in the middle
At the Equatorial line
It is midnight with wheels flying
With the spreading of chaotic stars
Busting windows with their falling bodies of light

SUPERMOON

A bowing to my cello
On a night of the Supermoon
A dream escaped
And infected the stars
A galaxy dripping the melt of night
Onto the mellow moon
The creating of purging tides
Rupture to the staring eyes of the elliptic orbit
The cello strings wither
The bridge shatters

ON THE RUN FROM THE DELUGE

After thousands of jailbreaks
Masking all those millions of mental suicides
Quickly young gamblers
Collect your winnings
The chips spill to the oily cement floor
Blanketing a scrambled moonlight
Wherever you run
Act as though your body has disappeared
Whistle a schemer’s tune
A pretender
An atheist living in Art Deco stained glass window

BURNING MAZES

Again tonight
Slumping against the tub
Tears mingling to the floor
Thinking about the old home
The family I knew from long ago
Everything had to change so suddenly
When my father left this plane
Leave in the clogging of internal pain
I won’t find my way home
These burning mazes won’t lead me there

photo feature by Jesse Gardner (unsplash)

Wolfpack Contributor EIC Bios: David L O’Nan & HilLesha O’Nan

By davidlonan1

David writes poetry, short stories, and writings that'll make you think or laugh, provoking you to examine images in your mind. To submit poetry, photography, art, please send to feversofthemind@gmail.com. Twitter: @davidLOnan1 + @feversof Facebook: DavidLONan1

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