A David L O’Nan older poetry dump #1

A Fever in ’72

A telephone call (from a phonebooth)
Somewhere, maybe an older truck driver
Where is Martha?
The ultimate teenage bride
Pregnant and crying,
Was she hurt, the stab of the lie?
The continuity of all lies?
He's rusting her hope of internal beauty
Sure, he'll call, but will he listen?
The trust is a clog.
The air is full of bird shit,
The sun is tonic
her love is drunk
His love is cancer cells, purged like an exorcism.
She's a white breath that is turning blue.
The maddening trailer bride blowing bubbles underwater -
Drinking muddy lake kisses on lily pads,
Trust staggers,
Hard to trust
Those in demented rambles.

Parasite Dreams

Let us work inside your heart
Like a parasite
Flight of freedom crashed
Feathers choked up into a spittle of air
Trees crowded into a claustrophobic view
Bullying the view to a divine sunset
A parasite dream
A narcosis rips into muscle
Funnels all thought from your mind.

Women With Proud Shoes

He is a minstrel
to a maze
Full of women with proud shoes
Power over failures, all humanity
This is the dream
Hear a chorus of paranoid shadows
In drumbeat paranoia
Do the shadows move like silhouettes slithering?
With grace and wisdom
Meditate over my melting eyes
Hazel and always in tears.
Fears always, in emergency always.
Violent to myself inside always.
I'm living in my mind.
When reality pushes through
My mind gets jealous
Wants to infinitely and overcomingly dominate this walking skeleton.
Minstrels try, want to create
Mazes full of laughter
Cause possession equates more to this soul
When trapped in blood and leather torn skins we live.

The Wind of Rain

Babe, I don't feel very cordial
As a lost breath madman
With tapping boots in a bloody snow
I can dream underwater
Where God watches my every whim.
I can struggle for the red lipped kiss
with the longest lines, shaped to a permanent insult.
In the bloodstream,
I'll have become every season.
And I have watched my skin grow, erode, decay & resurrect.
In exhaustions old love yous
Still an echo from a tangling in some abandoned hotel chain.
I watch the cream of snow bash down all the leaves.
I see where all the bugs mutated into a high supremacy.
And my hands are stale
Flipping through the poverty bible.
Wrinkled up under a porch of dogs.
Grandma thought she lost her Eden. In her mind
The nights the gentlemen drank the milk from the moon.
Tomato soup stained fingers and quilts made from the sticks.
We would work hard to kiss each other.
For St. Valentine or the devil in flesh.
Whoever wanted to own this oilslick town,
In which we all learned about Jesus.
We'd pull the pockets of slop from our cereal.
And watch 60s television and bless our bodies in a sugar overdose.
So, I don't feel like the wait.
I will be holding this umbrella for days.
And her wrinkled skin doll mind will continue visiting,
and offer the comfort of a circumsized moon's blessing.
A loss breath madman with cancer tears
I will just destroy what of me is left.
My body is my undoing wrath.
As those biblical pages fly into the wind.
The wind of rain.

Bells, Strings, Pictures

We were walking in the city
A crippled picture of you still in my jeans
I didn't know we'd meet this day
I tried to decipher your madness, but I can't
'cause you're walking too sane.
I can pretend to be interested in your beauty
I can your bells still ringing
hearing my name in each toll.
After miles of naked stumbling, we remembered the time we meshed our thoughts into one brain.
Then we remembered that moment was just now.
Then remembered that you didn't exist.
This picture was blank, or was it a chewing gum wrapper?
Some smoldering dream wave that was pulled apart like some lifeless worn string.

Lazy Tuesday

On a lazy Tuesday we walked in silence.
Forced the funeral drum to stagnate
While the crippling air of December gagged our face.
You told me about your dreams
You were the blessed mermaid drowning in the tides of the sea.
Then you were the mournful eyes of the comatosed sky
You forced the moon to lose its crust, its purity
Then we answered back in our current laughter
Jumped for miles, it seemed.
Winked, nodded knowingly that the day still marinated in laziness.

Rambled Wacky Freewriting 2003 (high?) influenced by Captain Beefheart

This monopoly game is flat out disgusting
German chocolate cake all over my arms
Cut open my toe
My jeans show I sat on the jam cake
Cut open my finger
Should have never sliced a witch.
Your mother puts kisses on every bar patron
but she loves heaven
So what is she gonna do?
Like a monkey attracted to squirrels
A mind leaving its home
Praying in front of an old Johnny Cash poster.
Don't be a mindworm
Tv evangelist with wives who look like Cher
Coyotes attack the yard.
Liquid pledge sprayed on their face
because kids don't know how to defend
taste lemon, taste poisons
Reap the benefits of playing Elvis for the clouds
Piano hotel man makes love to his pianos
when he plays dangerously.
Like hot liquid when we shower our muscles and bones.
Dynasty is on.
it is 1986
I think i'm being murdered.
By soulflies like you.
I gorge on corn.
Outside are the Waltzin' Mussolini
Brought the new views of the world to a halt.
by way of this guy.
the drums began to tap.
the wild lay on their sides and laugh.
listen to some chamber music.
Your friend Mary plays kickball with the kids.
I saw her
swatting wasps from her stink.
She flunked head lice school
and throws Baloo the Bear parties.
like a nut.
Watching elephants tumbling down hills.
Coughing cookie batter with the silly 40 year olds
Who plays rubber duckies in the sink
A new baseball league begins everyday when it
is windy outside, it is strange.
Because Hitler lookalikes are out there
in a bathrobe, urinating by a tree.
Holding whips and a smurf.
He's gonna get it, he's gonna get it
And I say "hey beautiful, where is your cavegirl"?
Is under the stove?

Pop Art, Andy Warhol, Factory new poem by David L O’Nan “Faux Warhola”

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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