Before the Bridges Fell #11: The Devil’s Beach Sonnets by David L O’Nan -poetry

photo/art by David L O’Nan (c)
The Devil's Beach Sonnets

1. The Intro.

They called it devil’s beach behind its
Mercurial cloak of crimson with white splotches
Of daylight, the sun bounces for a while and sits
away from the beach to just watch the love and the insane.

The beachfront stared at me with screwed on eyes
Watched me unmask, bathe in the beggar’s water, a prayer
Gates closing from the ocean to get ahead of the spies,
Waves lifting the walls of my wounds for all insects to crave.

I loved the smell of the algae wift and drift by the pagan seas
The witchery and the owls would rest by on a dark night
To watch the paradise, to watch the hell, the powders, 
the prowlers to breathe
What are my dreams in sand, heart shaped good-byes beaming in bright?
Waking up to the sounds of the ocean’s cello.
I bit my tongue and took in today’s first pill.

2. First Pill

I took in the first pill, and then I imagined us a bedroom
A way to save ourselves from the midnight ammo and hatchets
To get away permanently from my mind,                                                      and you away from your Americana husband
To get lost in your mouth, breathe with your mind,                                          a spell under your blue eyes
To bring back the color of this gray inside, impaled to doom.

There were ways that we had nothing in common
You dressed in beauty and often could be preppy
And I’m the rags of quick cloth, sewed imperfectly
You have the flower rings and a smile that guides me, to your beating heart my dear.

Oh, there were the times, times I wish to have back
That drunken moment you had too much wine and we walked hand in hand with,
 the moving trees or maybe it just seemed. Maybe we just were talking and I just imagined
your naked skin clothed away in a blanket,                                                     on the beach while he was away drinking,
 with his hunters and hookers.

3. Rings

Oh yes with you it has always been pretty rings, flowing hair and dresses
Turquoise tear drops, Poison box presents,                                                  charm me away doll into your closet
I want to see you in the way that God first imagined
Crescent moons and flowers beating like heartbeats, your smile swallows me whole.

Strawberries, blueberries, cherries and grapes
Unwrapping the Amethyst handmade, boho vintage golds.
I want to taste your lips in the everlasting glow, take in all of your taste.
Feel the cosmos peel at the nerve tips of my fingers and hold you in a sway.

Natural Opal, Emeralds and your peach appeal.
I would die to see you wearing that dress in mod cloth again.
I would die with alcohol on my breath, kissing bottles to be broken.
Against the recesses of the walls from sand to water
Watch the blue waves fade with your curved shadows
Pills fade too for a drunken mountain lion.



4. The Glory

My serendipity is skinned from the halos
I return to my glory, as a hobo in a vacant lot
Return to a dream where my fingers are calloused and have no bravado.
Guilt sits in my mud filled shoes. I’ve stalked in the waves.
The acoustics of thunder rains the ink over my withering heart.

I know you're out there pretending to be satisfied with horny princes.
Wearing crowns of camouflage hats and painting your world into a warzone.
I know you love to be called dumb in front of his friends on football Sunday.
I know you want him to admire you in perfect Huaraches like Frida Kahlo.
You will go outside and meditate with the stars. He’ll talk about borders with his
 assassins.

We can both be in the same galaxy, just ours many miles apart.
With our lonely eyes, the cellos, and anti-depressants.
Smell the same skunks many highways away while looking back blindly.
Semi-lights jam my vision, I pray for the collision if not for you.
I’m just a broken ceramic on a shelf.

Before the Bridges Fell #10 : Everyone is Kerouac by David L O’Nan – Poetry

Before the Bridges Fell #9 by David L O’Nan : Living in This Toxic Coalmine – poetry first on Icefloe Press

Before the Bridges Fell Poem #8 by David L O’Nan   “Those Hazels, They Slice” – poetry first published on IceFloe Press.



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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