6 more poems from Our Fears in Tunnels by David L O’Nan : The Popping of Unique Fireworks, etc.

Our Fears in Tunnels: O'Nan, David L: 9781731120526: Amazon.com: Books

The Popping of Unique Fireworks

I must say
while sitting cross-legged in a water puddle
While the rain melts the last of the snowmen across the fence.
I said I must say that life was born for the generic folks.
Silent alarms echo around each pop
Limping as a lonely whisper across the sky
The clouds mutating into purity after hours of lusting cries
Help! says the blind
Stepping on stone after stone
Lead me to the grass, lead me to the mud,
lead me to the answer.
THE ANSWER, perhaps?
No, lay crooked like I,
Like a bent broken tulip - turned shy by the sun
The wind remains trivial
When will it turn, 
blow the dust by the unknown souls of old egos
The egos we let go?
Covered up with that old silence, that old dry crust
We used to melt in the soil,
When it was heavenly
When life was meant for the fresh, new, unique, watered,
protected, loved, coddled, dreamt
From the peak of the mountaintops, Pop, Shimmer, Burn!
From the flat fields laced in hay Pop, Shimmer, Burn!
In the eyes of our grandparents  Pop, Shimmer, Burn!
In the beating hearts of lost love Pop, Shimmer, Burn!
In the colliding clouds (Thunder's new word)
Pop, SHIMMER, BURN!
Caressing the night with the sounds of fireworks
POP, SHIMMER, BURN!

one tear,
Pops, shimmers, burns.

Life as Innocent as Clouds

With life as innocent as clouds
Sometimes the girls,
they just become poems
They love, they fade away
They shy their eyes
They erase pain, 
They cause pain
Boys
They are more like fables or folklore
They are a prince, a frog, a soldier, a wreck
the word conceit, a pumpkin, a pig.

She met me as a man
She soon found out I was still a little boy
I was still arguing with past ghosts
I was still playing with toys
My laughter became like the sunshine
And my sadness became an eclipse.

What Happened to You?

What has happened to you?
Are you a hum to clank of an old rifle,
or are you just discovering the shine circling the bruise -
of rejection on an otherwise perfect apple?
Your sorrow is stuck in the core.
Your happiness is the healing touch of today's breeze.
Mirrors are inside the mind,
And harder to break than its imposters that starve the world -
of true beauty.

Stems

My stems are bones
Lies want to seal me up like an envelope
While giggling monsters erase your mind
They want it all to become gelatinous
Want to burn my ashes for them,
but I am solid
I'm not your born-again devil
No ice in the nocturnal blood
And I've got piercing shallow eyes
That a crowd of boredom will drown in
That is drunk with the fuel of the soul
But I still bruise
But my freedom will not be sliced
by the lies of weaklings.

Bloodmilk

What is blood milk?
Through my mind
Endless canal of confusion
I hear the race horses galloping...the cheering
breaking of the leg,
the amputation and the burial
Many different emotions
Like when I see her
her mind was sexy, the body was enticing
She had the skin...that flowed like milk
She was smooth
A calm breath over my mind
Not like the usual blood kisses
They tried to grab me
That control me
To choke me and bite me
Engulfing me with the poisons
However, she didn't want to taste the sweet
She liked the bitter sour juice of the entrapper
She reached for the bleeding
The bleeding were the geniuses
To touch their heart,
Made her life mean more.

The misshape of her flaws
Were what shaped her beauty
Her only cancer was her mind's eloquence. 

The Beautiful Swan

I have found thee
You will never run from that deeper feeling
Time is paused here
Refusing a setting sun
I will protect
for I feel the way -
you felt when you lost him.
That long rainy July day
He was the star that lit your bright eyes
Now that star is in mine
You have lost him,
but I have found you
Will my presence ever be healing?
Is the pain too deep to soothe?
When at night when you are crying, 
does a shadow dry your eyes?
I'm trying to connect with you
My spirit, my soul, my light
I am complete and burning for you
I will keep monsters in hiding
And bring you the dawn
Life flowing like rippled water and you
became the beautiful swan.

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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