Poetry from David L O’Nan : Tumbleweed Corner

Tumbleweed Corner

from books "The Famous Poetry Outlaws are Painting Walls and Whispers" and "Bending Rivers"

Buried hearts at Tumbleweed Corner.
The thistles split apart bad men as they choke.

Santa Fe, on a hot New Mexico morning.
The jury decided to hang the man.
The creeps,
They follow with chisels, with rope.

 A chilling smile,
Their creepy walk.
Like a dictator marching from their tomb.
Cuff marks leaving my hands raw and sore.

Dry air sucked in,
That dust,
That failure.
On the septic trails,
My dusty boots enriched in blood.
From a man that found his soul.
He was lost forever from his native Ohio.

He met his demise here in New Mexico when -
The sunrise began to drop dead heat on the wagons -
during our horses first meal of the morning.
The lonely man,
He was enamel
bare to the shaking,
the menacing inevitable.
Once he saw my hatchet teeth,
My bull rope eyes
He was just collecting horseshoes off dirty roads.
Those cloudy roads named in honor of befallen heroes.

As I sat there, judgment awaiting.
The judge sweats the sun's breath.
Moving his body into a boring inertial state.

He's a rock
And will not change.
His mind is predetermined
My lifeforce begins to drip.
To image itself as melting metal.
The toughness,
I become a shy child.
The people look at me with evil intentions.
Purity no more in their Christian hearts.

They wait to see my remorse.
My sunburnt face with the boils,
The leather chapped cheeks
The flaming sticks for a nose,
The ears that are dark and hidden like a tunnel.
The face that can't find the guilt.
I've been ripped away from my internal being.

I can only hiccup memories to the brain
The crying mornings,
Under this town's smoldering bridge.
Almost every morning.

They grab me by the stale leaf hair.
Pull my hungered body to the bird-shit ground.
The smell is now of old crusts and ashes.
That hot New Mexico sun has been burning -
my skeleton chest through my flannel shirt,
My bank robber legs through my tattered jeans
The sun poisoned my mind to obscenity.

I'm clinging to you,
Clinging to your thistles, Lord
I've eaten from all the ratty coffee cans too long.
I spit out all the ashes
Of all the dreamers.
Just rake away.

Tired of the spirits of those
I've killed for green greed, awakening me
Kissing the blade of the machete
A sorrow of laughter,
And then disappearances into -
The nocturnal rib of the air

Tumbleweed Corner is now heartless.

Those that were buried are now walking
They become the zombie vision,
Thieves that stole back their dignity.

My soul is left for scavengers.
Drag me away like rags.
Empty with the scars
To bury me in the gut of stars.

Eternally trying not to fall to the fires below.

Bio: David L O’Nan is a poet, short story writer, editor living in Southern Indiana. He is the editor for the Poetry & Art Anthologies “Fevers of the Mind Poetry and Art. and has also edited & curated other Anthologies including 2 inspired by Leonard Cohen and an upcoming one inspired by Bob Dylan. He has self-published works under the Fevers of the Mind Press “The Famous Poetry Outlaws are Painting Walls and Whispers” “The Cartoon Diaries” & “New Disease Streets” (2020). A compilation of 4 books “Bending Rivers” a micro poem collection “Lost Reflections” and new book “Before the Bridges Fell” (look under books tab in Amazon) under Cajun Mutt Press & “His Poetic Last Whispers” (2022) David has had work published in Icefloe Press, Dark Marrow, Truly U, 3 Moon Magazine, Elephants Never, Royal Rose Magazine, Spillwords, Anti-Heroin Chic, Cajun Mutt Press, Punk Noir Magazine, Voices From the Fire. Twitter is @davidLONan1 and for the book @feversof  Join Facebook Group: Fevers of the Mind Poetry & Arts Group . Facebook Author page DavidLONan1 and goodreads page is https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/18366060.David_L_O_Nan

Poetry: Walls by David L O’nan (from Bending Rivers book)

Walls

The thought of kissing you
was interrupted
when the river formed a curious wall.

Trying to disappear,
we were helpless
When it pushed us to the streets.

Hour after hour of resistance
Our chilled bodies,
bones growing old.

We swam toward the fires
After every tear,
every downstroke

I looked into your eyes
You were so scared, 
filled with fear,

but you wouldn't take my hand
About a minute later you found an exit
In the skin of the moon we rested.

I sung you a song that you've never heard
You began to blush,
but soon regretted it.

You climbed off
clutching a star
You said you must get back home.

The land is dry there,
I can trust there
I can rest alone.

So, I laid back down
Ears hearing those sad songs
you've never heard before.

After a while the moon's surface -
became so wooden,
my splintered skin had to leave.

I climbed onto the back of a lonesome comet
That brought me home to my lonely midnight fall
When I landed,
I couldn't walk

I just
innocently began to crawl
The ground...
it felt so wet and dirty.
It was like boredom and slime

Finally, home I poured myself a cup of coffee, 
my mind was already racing
My mind wouldn't let go of your smile.

My heart was being held a prisoner by patience
I laid my stolen head down to think some more
I thought I saw the first hint
of the season's sunshine.

So, I walked closer to the window
I began to envision you
as an angel holding me up high.

When I got closer,
only past ghosts looking at me
Taunting me with light.

So, I transformed back into the gravel and dirt
Never knowing the invention of hills
would soon give birth to mountains.

Looking over my shoulder
The pale ladybug crawling on the curtain -
is shy to the wind.

Breath becoming more intense,
she doesn't even budge
Sort of reminded me of you

And you’re blind to love’s eyes
laying stagnant in the winds of the past.

Bio: David L O’Nan is a poet, short story writer, editor living in Southern Indiana. He is the editor for the Poetry & Art Anthologies “Fevers of the Mind Poetry and Art. and has also edited & curated other Anthologies including 2 inspired by Leonard Cohen and an upcoming one inspired by Bob Dylan. He has self-published works under the Fevers of the Mind Press “The Famous Poetry Outlaws are Painting Walls and Whispers” “The Cartoon Diaries” & “New Disease Streets” (2020). A compilation of 4 books “Bending Rivers” a micro poem collection “Lost Reflections” and new book “Before the Bridges Fell” (look under books tab in Amazon) under Cajun Mutt Press & “His Poetic Last Whispers” (2022) David has had work published in Icefloe Press, Dark Marrow, Truly U, 3 Moon Magazine, Elephants Never, Royal Rose Magazine, Spillwords, Anti-Heroin Chic, Cajun Mutt Press, Punk Noir Magazine, Voices From the Fire. Twitter is @davidLONan1 and for the book @feversof  Join Facebook Group: Fevers of the Mind Poetry & Arts Group . Facebook Author page DavidLONan1 and goodreads page is https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/18366060.David_L_O_Nan

Poetry: Butterflies and Manifestations by David L O’Nan – Bending Rivers

BUTTERFLIES AND MANIFESTATIONS

There was a time
When I had an existence
We were the Roses
In fields with the butterflies
A Masterpiece
Manifestations followed by
The wilting, just weeds
Infestations
Butterflies spread across the crispness
Of the ground
Through it all sticks and the snakes
The moments of life
Beats your reflections
Upon oneself
All the hugs in 20 quick seconds
All the kisses in a flash of cloud to ground lightning
The moments of the attempts play like a 4 hour movie
The pills, the Crashing to the floor
Revived, prayers you have to rip from the mud.
Just to see your reflection
After another infestation
See yourself in precious waters
Pulled petals and thorns scattered
In the forms of scrambled tombstone etchings
Battles in love, beauty in achievements
When you stabbed your self-doubts
And you felt fragrant, and you could attract a crowd of dandelions whom thought they were Hollywood.
Make the proud moment reflections last longer,
God please
When I’m holding my babies
Not accepting being one of the masses of Roses
I feel the drowning of my mind
Being held down into another ditch
Another infestation
Butterflies scurry to a truth
A Masterpiece in true waters
A welcoming warm stare of the Nymphaea Nelumbo
May I feel comfort resting in this blanket of grass
Resting under twilight
Stars of God
Lift me into light
I can fully encompass the reflections
The last days of diseases that withered me to bone and plastic skin
I can see that I like everyone had moments of being a Masterpiece
That flew with the butterflies
A crowding of love
Purging ideas that there were infestations at all, and what was claustrophobia
Was just blind tremors
And tricks of sin
That oozed out the poisons
And scooped up, in handfuls and drank in by your own soul
When scared and resistant

“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!

Bio: David L O’Nan is a poet, short story writer, editor living in Southern Indiana. He is the editor for the Poetry & Art Anthologies “Fevers of the Mind Poetry and Art. and has also edited & curated other Anthologies including 2 inspired by Leonard Cohen and an upcoming one inspired by Bob Dylan. He has self-published works under the Fevers of the Mind Press “The Famous Poetry Outlaws are Painting Walls and Whispers” “The Cartoon Diaries” & “New Disease Streets” (2020). A compilation of 4 books “Bending Rivers” a micro poem collection “Lost Reflections” and new book “Before the Bridges Fell” (look under books tab in Amazon) under Cajun Mutt Press & “His Poetic Last Whispers” (2022) David has had work published in Icefloe Press, Dark Marrow, Truly U, 3 Moon Magazine, Elephants Never, Royal Rose Magazine, Spillwords, Anti-Heroin Chic, Cajun Mutt Press, Punk Noir Magazine, Voices From the Fire. Twitter is @davidLONan1 and for the book @feversof  Join Facebook Group: Fevers of the Mind Poetry & Arts Group . Facebook Author page DavidLONan1 and goodreads page is https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/18366060.David_L_O_Nan

Poetry: Monet’s Trees by David L O’Nan

photo by Adora Goodenough (altered)

MONET’S TREES

We speak as if death,
as a reflection of shade
As we navigate in the circles of sunlight
As miracles of breath
Miracles of Mother Nature
The trees of a Monet painting
Have become real
We become bearers of our sins
To discuss, to confess
Confessions to the caverns of bark
Eaten away at,
We lay in the comfort of cold ground and confess
To the lace ripped from the corner of an orange moon
The days of strange
By the riverfronts
Watching little devils form in the ripples of water
We met each other
As soldiers of war
Soldiers of mental scarring
We met each other
From dust to blood
Battle-wound confessions
Blood of the dawn
Paints the tears to my skin
One with my pores

Can you feel the burning?
All the reflexes in a burning

Tremor
Confessions
When we whisper lies to celebrate infamous moments
Celebration of ego
In radical boredom
The moments we walked on the bridges of bone
To climb the highest mountain to touch the hands of God
Superiority complex, confess
That you are lost in a possession of spirit
The caverns of bark, to climb through
And let the animals, tunnel through
Nibbling at the periderm
Confess more
Were you satisfied with the awakening of madness?
As it spread, fires across lakes of thought
Confess to the artist that sketches into your brain
Confess to the colors that swirl in your mind
Greens, browns, grays
What shall the Rhytidome be?
When confessing to the caverns of bark
In a blending of Monet’s Trees

“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!

Bio: David L O’Nan is a poet, short story writer, editor living in Southern Indiana. He is the editor for the Poetry & Art Anthologies “Fevers of the Mind Poetry and Art. and has also edited & curated other Anthologies including 2 inspired by Leonard Cohen and an upcoming one inspired by Bob Dylan. He has self-published works under the Fevers of the Mind Press “The Famous Poetry Outlaws are Painting Walls and Whispers” “The Cartoon Diaries” & “New Disease Streets” (2020). A compilation of 4 books “Bending Rivers” a micro poem collection “Lost Reflections” and new book “Before the Bridges Fell” (look under books tab in Amazon) under Cajun Mutt Press & “His Poetic Last Whispers” (2022) David has had work published in Icefloe Press, Dark Marrow, Truly U, 3 Moon Magazine, Elephants Never, Royal Rose Magazine, Spillwords, Anti-Heroin Chic, Cajun Mutt Press, Punk Noir Magazine, Voices From the Fire. Twitter is @davidLONan1 and for the book @feversof  Join Facebook Group: Fevers of the Mind Poetry & Arts Group . Facebook Author page DavidLONan1 and goodreads page is https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/18366060.David_L_O_Nan

Poetry: Whispers by David L O’Nan

photo by Harli Marten (unsplash)

from my book “The Famous Poetry Outlaws are Painting Walls and Whispers” and “Bending Rivers”

Whispers

Whispers tickling clouds on my lips
I’m here to be the lesser.
Once amazed, now I flutter like butterflies –
Into speckles, Into the wind.
Living like I once knew something.

When I breathe, a sound is birthed out like whispers.
Truth is domination and the fear is overwhelming.
The unknowing is appealing.
A whisper is a suggestion, a whisper is aesthetic
A whisper thirsts, the hunger is parasitic.

What will follow a whisper?
Turmoil, enchantment will follow.
A shadow crawls from the lips of your whispers.
Mourning the death of loneliness, inviting in a hex.
Did I invent this shining, did I invite this shade?

A whisper can lead you into temptation.
A whisper can scar you from the infinity.
A whisper can be holy, live as one with the trinity.

A noose in the vapor,  the man without his mansion, an ideal.
A whisper can take familial eyes to be mistaken to be eyes of the solace.

A whisper can be demonic, a whisper can be unruly.
A whisper can be saddened and polished for the ruined.
A whisper can be formidable in eyes that are everlasting.
A whisper can be sold for thousands of oily pennies.
A whisper can buy you pockets of torn, soiled regrets.

Now you walk around like you’re a legend.
You trip over your ego, see yourself as wrinkled.
Look at you old man, receding!
A mind that no longer has comprehension.
A foolish look into glamour, a reflection of dementia.

Your gaunt, slow, jagged walk
A whisper frozen in the dark.
A spirit stuck inside a foggy vault.
You’re talking to yourself.
Dust collecting on portraits, on bookshelves.

A whisper fills up with collisions between goods and evils.
A whisper dances across a floor, deceitful and gleeful.
A whisper, mesmerized by the robotic hints of pride and peaceful.
Is this what a human wants?
Is that just blind, animal magnetism?

A whisper, to be decayed or be a parade.
To be shared in a tornadic masochism.
A whisper is forever, is only dirt.
A whisper is a dream, a kiss from nature’s flirt.
A whisper is a nightmare, yet a whisper is free.
A whisper is oppressive and constipated with greed.

A whisper is your calling.
A whisper is your past.
A whisper is your present.
Your whisper is yours at last.

A whisper is no longer broken,
A whisper is no longer jailed.
No more are the moments of feeling tame, or unwell.

Can you trust a whisper?
Can you trust a stain?
Can you trust anyone but yourself, when it comes time for someone else to blame?

Whispers until a blink becomes a judgment, forever.
Whispers until your thoughts are jelly, when moments are coiled in a ball.
Striking out like lassos across the desert of these walls.

You can’t fake when you are a belief.
You can’t fake your inner seed.
You can’t peel away at stone when all in it’s core is another sheath.
Now you feel as whispers never evaporate.
Whispers follow you from freedom –
To the march – to the grave.

There are no whispers truly invisible.
Whispers are wisdom, (from where?)
Whispers are what is safe (inside a fold of mind)
When you look at the sky.  A tunnel to heal, a long breath to shame.
Whispers drunk on mortals.
Whispers are tingling through my feels.
Why can’t I digest what a whisper is?
Can it only be air?
Is it simply the simplest idea to grasp? 

https://amzn.to/3ByLyVQ 

Bio: David L O'Nan is a poet, short story writer, editor living in Southern Indiana.  He is the editor for the Poetry & Art Anthologies "Fevers of the Mind Poetry and Art. and has also edited & curated other Anthologies including 2 inspired by Leonard Cohen and an upcoming one inspired by Bob Dylan. He has self-published works under the Fevers of the Mind Press "The Famous Poetry Outlaws are Painting Walls and Whispers" "The Cartoon Diaries" & "New Disease Streets" (2020). A compilation of 4 books "Bending Rivers" a micro poem collection "Lost Reflections" and new book "Before the Bridges Fell" (look under books tab in Amazon) under Cajun Mutt Press & "His Poetic Last Whispers" (2022)  David has had work published in Icefloe Press, Dark Marrow, Truly U, 3 Moon Magazine, Elephants Never, Royal Rose Magazine, Spillwords, Anti-Heroin Chic, Cajun Mutt Press, Punk Noir Magazine, Voices From the Fire.  Twitter is @davidLONan1 and for the book @feversof     Join Facebook Group: Fevers of the Mind Poetry & Arts Group .   Facebook Author page DavidLONan1   and goodreads page is https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/18366060.David_L_O_Nan 

 “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! 


Revised, Renewed version of “The Famous Poetry Outlaws are Painting Walls and Whispers” by David L O’Nan now out



Revised, Renewed version of “The Famous Poetry Outlaws are Painting Walls  and Whispers” by David L O'Nan now out – Fevers of the Mind

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