A few older poems & short stories by David L O’Nan

From Baroness to Barista

She was born to minor royalty
A family of limp broken eyes
The baron,
The manager of the needles
While the coronets all fell to the trails,
In opium dens with tin bell mafias
They limp, and limp

And die, and die

And she got away in the arms of the whip
And all his Navy friends watched.

Toes curled,
Ears shattered
On blacktops the feet begin to lose their holiness.

In the gothic moon,
She absorbs a spirit in her blood
On the steps of a Vermont chill
Holding a bow,
Impinging the dirty minds
And a cry into pure hands

While a cultured city lifts her up
Walk by the downtown guitar musicians
Air smells like caramel popcorn
She walks by fashionable stores
With dapper dressed mannequins
And she enters the coffee shop
To change the world
A barista, and not the slave.

She left the car keys with the failures
And left the highs in the dumps of the baron.

Dark Blue Puddles

As the clouds begin colliding
Crushing spirits
Bleeding beauty after only 1 raindrop
The feet are fading fast
This walk is exhausting
The breathing is just another trap
The care is existing,
But from another existence.
Walking through another night
Pitch black with the blue puddles for eyes
Following me everywhere
Long giant steps
The rain intensifies
Yet, I feel dry
I must be in thought
Beyond feeling anything
Only this moment
The beauty you leave is still bleeding
Leaving every raindrop drying
Before it is captured to our skin.

Young Love

Her love is green
Too young to feel it
His love is greed
Too busy to know it.

The shadow calls you by the wrong name
You still open the door.
The deceiver just picked up the message
And brushed you away
So you go
Much like the wind, to stay astray
Blow away and attach yourself
To a curious cloud
Feeling too good to be real
Your eyes are a petrified shade of blue.

I saw you in a dream before,
And felt as though you might be the only one -
who could shape what is inside of me.
I had hopes that it would all make sense soon.
To feel clear finally, dare myself to live this dream.

The pain i'd feel
As I watched you make decisions, anxiously
As you fade to another day's tomb.
The stars are crossing each other,
Forming one big hole
Leaving the galaxy breathless
Without a beautiful view to bestow.

You had been searching for your soul since you saw -
The hanging trees in your childhood nightmares.
You made me smile after many nights in despair.
I felt, as a childish man
That I could help find you
Maybe I could even fight another round.

And when we connected,
Our minds lost those clouds

To me,
To you maybe a sea or two away.
You've had too many users leave you with an abused heart,
Always some clumsy man.

I saw the woman with the tears of a young girl
The hurt you let out,
Was a hurt that I thought I could bandage with my humor
I tried to pull the trigger and tell you when to start.
Your heart was in a frozen state.

I felt a gust of genius smother through the brain
I tried to control the situation, and rescue the girl
From the control of the man who had her heart.
She was a trophy to show his friends.

The plot only thickens, the blood boils as well
As he curses you from thousands of miles away
And leaves you remembering your purgatory,
To escape from that personal hell.

He's blind to what he has
He drinks away his military fears,
He wants to feel important, 
to drink in your tears
Hoping that he becomes the power of two.

You search for the light,
The answers from many
His phantom still looms in your head
His greedy smile tortures you into a trap
Swept away your happiness,
your entity lives in thin air.
You forgot you were once free
New locks are always binding you into the walls.

And I just had to watch myself grow
And inherit in more fear
As you sit silent with your eyes staring into the moon of
this coffee room.

$22 To Get Me to Chicago

You have 22 unheard voicemail messages
From 22 angry friends and 22 collection agencies.
Can your moped travel to Chicago from Indy?
With $22 in his pocket, mama
Coming home to see you.
With a mob of the ragged following along the way
Playing the hangman in shades of gray
He feels the busting, tired on a spread of spikes
The money falls through his dirty moleskin jacket
It's tangled around the tires
And his Redbull cans crush against the rocks -
When he hit the brakes.
With his cranium in red hills on the pike
The cops in black cars hold the butter teeth sheriffs.
They are quick to bark like a truck driver
Drunk on cherry wine.
Put on the handcuffs with an ambulance on standby
Pushing time trying to write his wrongs.
$22 is all he had.

You can call Chicago the desert road
He will not be going far
To meet all the phantoms in the glow
Of the Crossroads prison.

New Breath

Caught in a whiplash
I smell fear across the seas
The coils are spinning in a global glass
The hurting behind all masks
I saw you sitting
behind a cursed tree
Drinking another drip of your soul
The funeral filling up with smoke
All ashes lit on fire
A new end to an old beginning
And the brown eyed girl
was left at the altar
Divinity collapsing down,
clutching her chest
Lost another day,
the river lingers in crests
A saddened soldier
was buried in a moonbeam
Lunar rays were glowing over his young face
A war that took away his name
And left him as another generic American
The spirit of Stalin was inside his tomb
With bells ringing the new sounds of doom
And the rants of a younger generation
Would be heard through towns,
in cities of desperation
I couldn't understand
The remnants of these aging bones
Wrinkles, faded memories,
with the new breath of hate.

The Blues is Nothing New

You think your breath could change the world,
but all I see is your old shoes
A soul without a clue
A mannequin brain fool
A media driven tool
Well, you know the blues is nothing new

I believe you think you're kind
as you smile at the poor,
I believe you think your mind
Is something all can adore.

But your mind is a shapeshifter
between oppression and insanity
You treat your family like marbles 
clashing together in an old timey game of bravery

You are the epitome of ego and sour grapes
You turn a new leaf over just to see a similar stain,
I'm no longer in your shade
and brought sunshine to the pouring rain.

And you think that everything is cool
while we drown in your cesspool
The common man rule like a skipping record
a scratching, fading voice becoming blistered

You learned that you weren't as special as your own
a deity confession spewed it of your sins i'm told
Well, son you can talk all day to fools and the dew
I'm here to tell you that the blues is nothing new.

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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