Poems by David L O’Nan including “Carousel in a Cloud”

closeup photo of ferris wheel

Carousel in a Cloud (2007)

We enter the park as the breeze fails us
We enter the dream fumes
Narcissistic spun around a carousel
Spun like jagged jewelry around our loss,
The path of our cross
Our crying, bleeding savior who's breath
Was confidence, was magical
Like a dancer, a calming dancer
I want to hear the soft, gentle tap of your silk feet
Dance upon my canvas, dance around my tombstone -
as an ancient faerie.
Slowly let our cool breath mix in this Winter air
Let us warm each other out of the state -
of chilled bones and skin.
Thin string-like vessels spun around like a carousel.

Her dark beauty asleep, she lay upon a ground that feels of stone
Hair cradled with the dirt amongst the spirit of flaky snow
Cuddled into nature,
Eyelids that could lift the sun
Answer my prayers
While she mimics comatose and remains bewitching
Energy and soul spasms that twitch to the core.
The night and the day into an epileptic blur
Seizing around a carousel.

Pure Vanilla Paper

It was a Tuesday in October
We skipped school to work on some art
Laughing in the Autumn heat
With the windows open
Scrubbing charcoal on pure vanilla paper

Wednesday seemed a weekend away
You made a sketch of your passing mother
And here I was just badly drawing a kestrel,
reddish brown and bathed in bones.

Some vinyls began to spin
It was hours of Fleetwood Mac
with my mind on the Talking Heads and Blondie
We were always riding in different mental waves of chariots
Forever my companion.

And then you moved to Green Bay with your father
We'd still send letters and polaroids
Sketches of our illusions
You have begun to move closer to Renaissance,
I've moved closer to Orange trees and waterfalls -
On an onyx night.
And of course I have a distressed falcon
On pure vanilla paper.

The letters stopped short in '83

The Color of This Room

In the white light of this room
I pour my emotions into this Sangria
The color of this room is fading fast
I'm cold and alone
But how was your day?
The blank stare on your face reminds me of a -
Comatose Cinderella
You are the beauty that is burning in this room's flame
I forgot your name
Did I ever know your name?
Anyways, I must polish my broken heart
With some of your fairy dust
Feel a falling joy as it blows by my head
Fading into a dark room now
Your gloom is bringing me so blue
Your light however is my solar rays
And I keep pacing towards your energy
In this room and the illuminating windows.

Cold Blankets

I'll sleep under the comfort of cold blankets
I'll drown in the eyes of unborn lakes
I am ready to be impregnated into the Earth
I'll be washed away of sin
Under the guidance of a recluse
A recluse on the wane
of mental weathering.


A strong ocean wave hits
A target of heart
Of our prayers
A body in tremors
Where the scent of rose overcomes
A murder truck stop
A Friday night
A haunted bedroom
In the waves we vision the sky
That sky that becomes one with the ground, now
And we spin through our skin
And become lucid.

Enemies Behind Fences

We still get those no trespassing signs
With barbed wire cutting our hands
Our enemies waving us through
Smiles eating at the precious air
Be aware
Those are jagged halos
Pricking at your mortal vision
They pick you up with a soaked hook
Creating new paint for an old soul
To an artillery of clouds
Watch the ashes electrocute in the wind.

Cold Front Sinning

I've had holy visions
And of holy murder
Cold front sinning
And crucifixes spinning.

Angels and Fossils

In the sand is the answer
To the fossils of many sacred bubbles
That bursts from the ocean waves
Across the clouds, 
The angel in tears
Fanning in new funerals
Sending out new invitations.

Clementi Moon

Oh, the pianos fall
And we see in the distance
A heaven warps in the warm keys
From a melted soul
A ghost she left hovering little tiny dust of miracles
Sonatas for the Gods
She waltzed herself away too soon
Hanging by 1 finger on the Clementi moon.


Maimed by the luminescence
Shedding my light through
The thinning dim bulbs veiled as skin
I have become ravenous for ripe thought
Accused of being the eccentric appendage -
to a derailing mind
My last decree of love written faintly
in dark skies where our fears dine.

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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