The Bible Belt Bachelor Beat, The Prison Speech (2005) Poetry by David L O’Nan

versions of this are in my books and also published in slightly altered versions on the Cajun Mutt Press site during a Saturday Feature. These came from a book I was working on in 2005 in which I didn’t finish and threw together poems as a result.

The Bible Belt Bachelor Beat

So now the beat was out on the streets again,
Darkness hears the soul’s tears burning within.
Finding home wearing the sadness coat.
Fighting a love affair with a knife wielding holy ghost.
My beautiful girl is at rest, wasting away
She is staring into the darkness – Of this evening’s shade
The horror calls from across the halls,
They were deafening, my silence proved too late
So now I know, how the death bell tolls
I seek revenge, I fuel myself with scorn and hate
To take apart, the crooked heart
Who severed my soul, magician of greed and loath?
Reincarnate myself into the heroin, the addiction
The power rose, the mighty lion, the sorcerer,
The dictator, the cult king
The need to be disillusioned
The creation was to be crazy,
To break apart with newly found powerful hands,
That used to be so gentle.
So fragile and weak,
When I used to touch her cheek
The morning like a celestial daydream,

The haze of fog
Sipped her tears,
When she began to cry
The dryness,
Like a desert for sad brown eyes
This germ will not run, cannot hide
Cannot mutate, I know that I can design
The perfect plan, the perfect kill
Alas, I may become dirt on the way
Dear God, knowing however
His bones are already chilled
Spirits have cried, they dry, they fly
They live in my heart, for my love
That was taken by the evil in a wild heart.

The Bible Belt Bachelor Prison Speech

Hello,

To all that have been captured
We are breathing the same chipped paint walls,
Yellow urine stained floors, pneumonia air.

The air of a criminal
Locked up, prison guards whistling our death tune.
Death will be coming soon.

We’re already dead in a sense.
Nature is outside, designed for the free man

On a warm sun-lit sand.
The touch of lovers, the natural consumption of lust.
In my cell asleep with the poetry –
I felt when I was one with the free
When I wasn’t practicing bullets
Setting fire to Mother Nature and to faith.
When blizzard walks exuded freedom.
Through the snow chills devouring my feet
With numbing, cutting skin
The pain of past freedom
My name is Dante Moricelli
Her name was Nadine Angelis
You might have read about me
In your wrinkled newspapers, Slippery
phlegm gazettes

The glossy excitement of a Time Magazine.
The mortality sonnet depicting the surrealism in a slippery dream.
Nadine Angelis was my love as the tender years began to fade.
Young, careless, we were the storybook tale of the unsaved.
I will tell you more about my love,
If your ears are tuned to listen “Must
we have a heart, we never listened
before?” “Must we have ears,
To be attentive to your listless self-loathing?” “Must our
maniacal spirit be all and sundry To your hopeless
prophecy?”
“Are we peasants to your pulpit?”
“You, bleeding your cold love propaganda in our troglodytic tomb”
“Interrupting the carving of our minds with a fever
That comes from watching roaches scurry down prison floors, Spiders climbing up our
shirts, flies and decay consuming our food”
“Marking x’s on our calendars with our life force fluid,
The countdown to our demise: the foregone conclusion”
But I am a human heartbeat
I was a 5-year bachelor that fell on hard times,
The loss of reasonable thinking,
And a self-confessed stalker of love
So, if what I’m about to tell you –
Were the opening of a movie
The song “Let There Be More Light” Would be
resonant, magnetic to the ears
Illuminating, flashing of lights from psychedelic trips of torture
The horrified manic looks,
As we drive erratically down a desert road.
Passing cacti and breathing in dry arid air
The sun setting down to a dark orange/bright red hell.

The flashes of a nearly perfect capture lay –
In the trunk of a Pontiac Sunbird.
The music, the music like soundwaves to our mind.
We can see the sound
We have become the sound
We have become the light
Passing by leather skinned lizards with masochistic claws,

Wanting to give you one more bite in the jugular before – The eternal
damnation of our soul’s ease.
The serpents black flickering tongue – Spreads
over the heavens
With a Hallelujah Chrysalis of poisoned tears.
We, looking for an escape to find peace again
But, knowing the only written word of our future is that of a Eulogy.
A eulogy given by family members who didn’t know us well enough
to care before.

All because of espionage and jealousy.
And the loss of love that wasn’t understood quickly enough.
The burning of a desert,
The scarring on the face of Mona Lisa
The victim that lay in his own bloodletting on torn towels – and
shredded t-shirts.
With the rips, that remind us
The struggle it was
The determination in us that caused our perfect lunacy to this near
perfect kill.
His false hopes of spiritual happiness
And wellbeing exposed
by his crooked cross on a cut chest.

Even though I’m terrified by the outcome.
As sheriffs, detectives, specialists all pace faster and faster behind our car
of forlorn sin.

The electricity already beginning to pop in our veins! The multiple
trips are scary, long, and all indicative
That we had almost masterminded the perfect crime.

So, now the collapsing rollercoaster ride has ended.
The song has ended.
Let me tell you how we came to this plunge into ridicule and reverie.
I’m Dante Moricelli “the Bible Belt Bachelor”
The name they stamped on me,
I’ve lost all identity and dignity now
I’m just a title, less of a man.
Because I erased a man from existence
Who deserved to die.
He took away the root to my soul,
My dear Nadine Angelis
She made my heart feel, She
made my blood pump
And he twisted my mind into only one way of thinking,
Left me with the confusion

Much like after an aneurysm
The pounding, splitting shards of glass as well
shakes to the wild howls of coyotes.

Releasing small increments of mania.

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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