A Fevers of the Mind Poetry Showcase with HilLesha O’Nan

photo by Danica Stradecke (unsplash)
The Rose Garden

 I was the rose garden
that you left unattended.
 I still bloomed despite the weeds
Wild and free,
 I had to find my way through -
the wilderness

Every now and then, a passerby
would stop to admire my beauty.
It was the thorns that
kept others from getting too close-
even to give me water, I thirsted for.
 I suppose I don't mind wailing for the rain
as I have weathered plenty of life's storms.

The Rose Garden II

My dear,
desolated rose
You can't understand this world -
without pain,
but just know
that not everyone abandoned you.

You often let the thorns stand in your way. I tried
reaching out, but I got so tired of standing there -
hoping that you'd see your beauty.
You always said Father Time waited for no one, but I'm not
going to either. Don't let irony get the best of you.
You were always wild and free
So why are you here

Weeping
in your rose garden?

lollipop Dream

It was a lollipop dream. There
were monsters in their tiny 
castles made of sand and
rattlesnakes with diamond eyes.
The paper tigers chased playfully
while the bears frolicked in the 
daisy fields. It was a lollipop 
dream. Where the sour hid behind a
        sweet facade.

The Funeral Man

No one knows his real name,
but they called him the Funeral Man.
Tall and slender,
with a dead stare, he'd appear
in dreams out of nowhere, in a hearse.
His skin was 
almost shadow-like 
Was he a shadow of his former self?
He kidnapped unsuspecting victims
and then would disappear,
as fast as he had appeared,
leaving a trail of smokey fog -
that didn't lead anywhere.
Who was this creepy -
strange dream drifter
While those who dreamed of
him didn't know who he was,
it was said that his 
arrival meant trouble
was to come.

Unknown #1

Take me back
to that night
on a cold October
I would have held your hand
I would have listened
I would have loved you
I would have danced
with you under the moonlight
and the blanket of stars
would have kept us warm

The Rotten Apple

She had an ugliness
      about her
yet many
  couldn't see it right away -
like a slowly rotting apple.
Bright and wholesome
  on the surface -
you didn't know what was 
 lurking
underneath her facade
Until it broke down
and she had wormed her way -
to your core.

Unknown # 2

I drank
the delirium
danced with the moon
 and slept
with the wolves.

Unknown # 3

She stares at her reflection in the mirror
Barely recognizing the woman staring back at her.
    Thinning hair
  Time worn skin
Her beauty has faded gradually over the years
like a faded rose petal
dried and pressed -
in the pages of a book long forgotten.

Her memories are no different
Shattered fragments
  sharp and dull
Scattered like broken glass
She then hears music playing at a distance.

"On a dark desert highway
Cool wind in my hair
Warm small of colitas
Rising up through the air"    

A faint smile crosses her lips
To a memory that croons inside her soul
She sways to the music 
and drifts to a time lost 
Yet, not completely forgotten.

 Young, naive, and in love with love
and a childish notion that time was limitless.

The Drunken Ballerina of the Night

The pine trees swayed
     and danced
Whispering a song
     to the night

 A chorus of animals
      sung along
as I drunkenly walked
deeper into the forst
with the moonlight
   being my only guide.

I swayed
I danced
like a drunk ballerina
Singing my own song
       and the crickets
       chirped along.

Past Parades Fade Through All Your Egos

You marched up and down 
the Kentucky roads in your own narcissistic
parade. You waved the red flags,
but no one seemed to notice as they 
caught up your broken boy charm.
No matter how many times I tried
to save you from drowning in your
thought, I always ended up being
the one to blame. You let your folks
talk about me as I was nothing.
Every time there was a problem,
You'd waltz right to your mom's apron 
strings. My feeling was invalid when I 
tried to turn to you.  You turned the
cards around and I was the crazy one.
I always stood alone whenever I stood up
for myself. You let me drown in despair, 
and the one that ended saving me was myself.

2 new poems/writings by HilLesha O’Nan : “In Patagonia” & “These Walls”

Poem/lyrics by HilLesha O’Nan: “The Preacher’s Wife”

Poetry by HilLesha O’Nan : “Small Town Hearts” “Two Wolves” & “Living with the Mirrors”

Bio:HilLesha O’Nan is a blogger, writer, photographer & marketer. She is co-editor/founder of Fevers of the Mind Poetry & Art. She runs the blog tothemotherhood.com for over 15 years

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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