Available Now: Before I Turn Into Gold Inspired by Leonard Cohen Anthology by David L O’Nan & Contributors w/art by Geoffrey Wren

Here are the U.S. Links for Kindle & Paperback. Please check for availability for the links in your country on Amazon.

https://amzn.to/3rYO2uV

Features artwork by Geoffrey Wren, poetry & stories from David L O’Nan, Ethan McGuire, Tom Harding, Joe Kidd, Robert Frede Kenter, Joan Hawkins, Ankh Spice, Arthur L Wood, Sadie Maskery, Kari Ann Flickinger, ps pirro, Peter Hague, Lorna Wood, Benjamin Adair Murphy, Attracta Fahy, Christina Strigas, Barney-Ashton Bullock, John W. Leys, Amy Barnes, Jim Young, Elizabeth Cusack, Richard LeDue, Michael Igoe, Samantha Terrell, Lisa Alletson, Carrie Sword, Samantha Merz, Janet Beekman, Lennon Stravato, Catherine Graham, William Taylor Jr, Kat Blair, Adrian Ernesto Cepeda, S. Reeson, Shane Schick, Gerald Jatzek, Merril D. Smith, Jim Feeney

“Before the Bridges Fell” by me David L O’Nan Poetry book is out today on Cajun Mutt Press

Available Now: Before I Turn Into Gold Inspired by Leonard Cohen Anthology by David L O’Nan & Contributors w/art by Geoffrey Wren

Bending Rivers: The Poetry & Stories of David L O’Nan out now!

Fevers of the Mind founder bio: David L O’Nan (WolfPack Contributor)

A Hallelujah for a Midnight War by David L O’Nan in Before I Turn Into Gold Anthology

(c) Geoffrey Wren

A Hallelujah for a Midnight War

I can feel your skin breathing in orbs
kisses that feels like surgeries
and the money dies off when you are greedy
and we step right into a Midnight War
Millions of Judases in the wilderness
The sick and the crimson
In torment, so petrified
One breath, chokes
Hallelujah

In chaos
the hammer smashes in the glass
We are hidden behind these walls
a combustion in bones
and all to become vapor
In this Midnight War
Where the glitter turns to ashes
breaking from the chairs, a howl
Hallelujah

The spectres and the stars
Looking as one
Like in a mirror of night
We have been forsaken of riches
They loot the diamonds from the heart
And the robbery is simplistic
we feel translucent watching the seas
The Midnight War cripples
And the waves clash together in an
Everlasting 
Hallelujah

The virgins spin down
with chapped lips
and breeding, hungry eyes
You are numb to touch
A revolver, an allergy
The flaming of whips to erase your mind
The pearls, they fall to the fire
the path is a torrent from fibrous roots -
to the vines of cherries
Angelic songs
Obliterates, to my auditory invisibility
In grief, in pain
Praying in puns
Hallelujah

So, Midnight passes
And we are back to 1 a.m.
Time for the blossoms and the honey
woven into the fabrics of Earth
tip toes the demons away
White horses begin to gallop -
wildly around the curves
and suddenly your eyelids open
back to the reds, blues, orange in the sunlight, surrender
hear the hearses beginning to putter
the gas kills off the energy
Hallelujah

“Before the Bridges Fell” by me David L O’Nan Poetry book is out today on Cajun Mutt Press

Blurb for my (David L O’Nan)upcoming book “Before the Bridges Fell” Cajun Mutt Press from Ron Sexsmith(musician)

Available Now: Before I Turn Into Gold Inspired by Leonard Cohen Anthology by David L O’Nan & Contributors w/art by Geoffrey Wren 

Fevers of the Mind founder bio: David L O’Nan (WolfPack Contributor)

Poetry inspired by Leonard Cohen (2019) How Leonard Cohen Kept Evading Me by Christina Strigas

from Christinastrigas.com
How Leonard Cohen Kept Evading Me

I almost saw him at the bar
in 1998, 1999, 2000;
every year with less hope
where he was known
to exist in a universe
of poetry, words, moods.

He had an artistic heart,
he could drink
like a twenty year old.
He loved feminine fabrics,
silk scarves, jasmine scents,
all the things your ex never liked.

These things reminded him of his
mother, but he kept that to himself.
He caressed women
without his hands, he used
a sheet of paper,
a pen,
his deep voice,
gentle song
the memory of Suzanne.

I danced with his words for decades
I must have not seen the blinds lifted
the darkness talking back at me.
Oh, yes - the hard cover
dark pastel women, four
of them, waiting for me
to read a hundred times to my kids
and ten times to myself. Turn
each page, languidly,
Ballerinas and Degas paintings
dance me to the end of love.

It is a shame, or sham, or same
only poets and stones can understand
each other. So quiet and content
with being alone in a crowd.

I feel blessed to step
where he walked and speak his
love language. English. -
Mostly English with a dab of franglais

mais je parle un peu en francais aussi
je t'aime

When I strolled in Outremont
near his house, I thought I
saw his ghost. My mouth
was a tree, my eyes the branches,
I re read a thousand kisses deep
to anyone who would listen

Why is it that the wrong people listen?

I became a kiss.

I almost went to his concert in 2001
but I gave birth
but I thought of the Montreal traffic
but I couldn't go
but-but---but---

I slept early. I was not supposed
to be so anxious about dead people.

I had my chance to walk around the
city to bump into him
to carry his book around -
ask him for an autograph
but he never, never replied.
He was too important for
a poet like me.

I went to the places they said
he would be. I missed him by
hours
or minutes
or lifetimes.
How the dead
whisper in coffins;
I cuddle up with his books
evoke the kisses
I regret not giving.

He's a dead poet now -
oh, how I long to be part
of that society.

Wolfpack Contributor: Christina Strigas

A Poetry Showcase for Christina Strigas -new poetry & republished poetry

A Fevers of the Mind Quick-9 Interview with Christina Strigas

Salt by Ethan McGuire poetry Inspired by Leonard Cohen

A rock pillar of salt awaits those looking backward. 
 
As a staunch evangelical American, 
once I epitomized a top-rung Christian. 
 
You have asked me to discuss the future, 
yet we cannot discuss what has not been. 
Leonard saw the future, called it murder, 
the same as our own present and our past. 
 
My upward way is at once my downward. 
The downward path, it rises up likewise. 
God sees all time present for forever. 
I am not God; the night still spreads outside. 
 
I struggled long in lost worldview warfare. 
My weary back I never once unbent. 
Then one night, along the troubled pathway, 
a stranger told me he could build those walls: 
 
The walls between my culture and comfort, 
walls between the foreign and family. 
 
I sold my soul, crossroads, to the Stranger, 
though, true, he did not ask explicitly, 
only asked for proof of my loyalty, 
and my tired soul I volunteered in pledge. 
 
My upward way is at once my downward. 
The downward path, it rises up likewise. 
God sees all time present for forever. 
I am not God; the night still spreads outside. 
 
Once you sell your soul, lightning seals the deal. 
Even when the pendulum oscillates, 
your soul is sold. You cannot buy it back. 
I offer passers futures and my life. 
 
As I lie in the mud of dirty roads, 
even the Stranger mourns my fate in time. 
 
I lie trampled underfoot, Stranger of Gold. 
I gave myself to you, oh my paper stranger. 
 
I become a statue of salt as I stare backward.

TheFlummoxed.com

Twitter @AHeavyMetalPen

By day, Ethan McGuire is a healthcare information technology professional. By night, he is a writer, whose work has been published by Better than Starbucks Poetry MagazineFlashes of BrillianceFoundling House JournalThe Dark Sire Literary MagazineVita Brevis Press, and the West Florida Literary Federation’s project Life in the Time of Corona, among others. Ethan currently lives in the Florida Panhandle near the beautiful beaches of the Gulf of Mexico with his wife and their dog and cat, and he is a proud member of the Panhandle’s writing community.

Bio: Ethan McGuire works by day as a healthcare information technology professional and by night as a writer, whose poetry, fiction, and essays have appeared in Better than Starbucks, The Dark Sire, The Dispatch, Emerald Coast Review, New Verse News, The Poetry Pea, and Vita Brevis, among others. His debut poetry collection, Apocalypse Dance, releases through BSC Publishing in the Summer of 2022. Ethan McGuire, his wife, and their new daughter live in the Florida Panhandle near the Gulf of Mexico. You may connect with Ethan on Twitter @AHeavyMetalPen or at TheFlummoxed.com.

Available Now: Before I Turn Into Gold Inspired by Leonard Cohen Anthology by David L O’Nan & Contributors w/art by Geoffrey Wren

A Fevers of the Mind Quick-9 Interview with Ethan McGuire

unsplash photo by Brandon Green

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