The Mystery of Mount Sterling
They washed the blood From the rocks to the seas A wall of towers Crash to the ashes of banging drums Still heard in rumbling hungers Of Mount Sterling In the orphanages, in the cries of lost land, We can now march as the spark off the re-energized phantoms. Say goodbye in hallucinations Where we saw Heaven in a viewmaster In the distances, in the hint of the kingdom But, when do we begin running towards the golden flash? Captured me, erased me Severed the ties of cultures and families Washed me in the clots And left me there a mystery Waiting for the crows to connect the dots.
I climbed out of your watch, your stare And stopped time To erase hours that leave me bare To age defacing me To the crippling of the bones I will be resurrected as the spotted falling leaves. Sleight of Hand My blood is an old soul That should be pumping through a robotic poet from classic times If I’m breathing, you will hear me When I’m not, you may hear me more How else can you see these supposed fast-moving clouds dream – As slow motion tantras through a heartless sky? This current world is too loud for me, Yet it isn’t nearly loud enough The art is secluded The arteries are clogged, Filled with supernovas and suffering And they call this a sleight of hand. Come Possess Me in the Rain The conduits all say that I invented myth and magic all in one breath. There is a mist in the cold air On a Greenwich Village Halloween night I can not feel the electricity Only the forceful druids, and the chanting wish of death They hold me up and say "Come Possess me in the rain" Licks the cold steel to my skull Possess me, with me Real and muted by the shame In an execution style parade What is the impression of a concrete stain? They are practicing Shakespeare They are faux Warholas and bohemians in sunglasses Without a notion of care And I’m in this shadow that you feel at the river Cold to the touch, blood like paste The arrows kill the stars in the nuclear waste In the air, decaying the ground Now I’m expected to love all As I’m pierced to these skyscrapers Bound and bullied My hands shaking off frost It takes every breath in my lungs to Release all my cowardice and all the vapors Like this militant view of my skewering They drop me off like unused flesh Love was only the invention Off the roots of an untimely reptilian dream And hate grew in the garden And shook the city lights to the seas There isn’t a Picasso left Digging up from the cracks I crawl up through Cherry Lane And I watch all the faints And my nerves constantly dance an alarm I am rushed in my steps I am hushed in the slivers of my brain In my mind that never sleeps In my possession they fed off for years I can only find truth and humanity And live like I’m the Palomino Dodging in and out of the hustling of fear Wolfpack Contributor EIC Bios: David L O’Nan & HilLesha O’Nan Short Poems by David L O’Nan Poems by David L O’Nan : A Prince Was Born on Chartreuse Street & short poems