2 Poems from Robin McNamara : There’s a Morning Waiting & Sunflower Seeds in your Pocket

There’s a Morning Waiting

By the god of daylight a quilted quiver 
Of sin lain beside me in the morning/ 
Worship of all that kneeled before me
In absolved prayer with the priest with 
Two sons; one in religion; one in shame/
A blame of another kind.

Lust has taken those forsaken. 
Earthly body returns to earth in dust. 
The bells— they ring, they ring and angels 
Bring out the remains of your Judas love.
With your rosary beads and divination Unknown you walk the path not shown— 
There’s a morning waiting at the end of 
The road shrouded in Biblical revelation, 
All cock-eyed in the hold of another hand.
Lucifer comes round during Jupiter darkness 
And kisses the ground walked by disrobed
Saints scholars and prophets from Mecca.  
Flight of darkness in dawns early light,
Those chosen depart with the parting 
And all history awaits. 

Sunflower Seeds In Your Pocket

Ukrainian proverb:‘Love thy neighbour, but pull not down thy hedge.’
We sheltered  from the wings of warwith their missiles. 

We’re fated to our destiny 
a father leaves to go battleThis is our future history. 
the skies scream down evil 

the last goodbye: it was never our intention  it was never meant to beour final destination. 

In the metro sleep the future generation  

hearing a new reality of warit was never God’s intention 
for them to hear death 
So near so soon. Although 
the world still turned and houses still burned 
we’re fated to waiting for fredsbringer
with sunflower seedsin our pockets. 

Wolfpack Contributor: Robin McNamara

Published poetry by Robin McNamara from “Under A Mind’s Staircase”

A Fevers of the Mind Quick-9 Interview with Robin McNamara

Published poetry by Robin McNamara from “Under A Mind’s Staircase”

The Devil’s List

Demon dogs howl at the moon’s rise. 
The room is readied with incense of
Frankincense and myrrh. 

Have the angels fled?
A shadowy figure moves slowly; 
Almost elevated.
The grass is scorched from hooves 
Of the called.

As the devil thrills a captive audience, 
With his splendid playing of the violin.

‘Such gusto! Bravo sir!’
— How the fires are stroked.
Such glow cast upon faces.

‘Care for a margarita?’ 
To watch the burning
Of the Testament.

For the poet hasn’t arrived yet with a rebuttal. Dare he try? 
He lays at the Devil’s
Feet— like a faithful dog.

The crowds dance like mistresses 
To music of the Devil’s symphony.
Have the angels fled?

The sounds cascade down their writhing bodies- The fiddle has them captivated.
It’s inside them/possesses them. 
How they moan...

In a dream-like state, the music of the Stradivarius wraps its trilled embrace round me.

The angels have fled.

Happily Ever After

In this house of ours, 
We (you) picked out
The new wallpaper in this 
Sitting room of silence.

The pictures on the wall
In the hallway near the door
(Which once promised freedom)
Seems somewhat... incongruous, 
To what the separate bedrooms entails.

Two unfulfilled souls in their 
Own Les Misérables.

Frowns, sighs and shrugs 
Are reiterated daily.

From blossoming beginnings:
You’re so lovely!
Ah stop, I’m blushing!

To the happily ever after of:
Did you put the bloody bin out?
Where’s my socks?

Hedgehog Poetry Press (c)

Blurb for “Before the Bridges Fell” upcoming book by me (David L O’Nan) on Cajun Mutt Press from Robin McNamara

2 poems by Robin McNamara : New York city ain’t you just so & Holy Fires of Religion

Poems by Robin McNamara : “Here in the Woods” & “Sandpaper of Shame”

3 new poems from Robin McNamara

A Fevers of the Mind Quick-9 Interview with Robin McNamara

Wolfpack Contributor: Robin McNamara

Bio: Robin McNamara has over 145 poems published worldwide in America, Canada, Ireland and in the UK with Versification, Pink Plastic House, Daily Drunk, Full House Literary Magazine, Dream Journal, Second Chance Lit, Literary Heist & Ephemeral Elegies. A regular contributor to Poetry Ireland and Black Bough Poetry poetry prompts. Robin’s forthcoming debut chapbook, Under A Mind’s Staircase, published by Hedgehog Poetry Press, UK is available to purchase now at: https://robinmcpoet.com/

Wolfpack Contributor: Robin McNamara

Bio: Robin McNamara is a widely published poet from Ireland. His debut pamphlet, Under a Mind’s Staircase was published with Hedgehog Press (2021)

Recently nominated for the Pushcart Prize for “Apple Picking Season” from Under a Mind’s Staircase. His first full collection , Monochrome Heart is due to be published in 2022.


Blurb for “Before the Bridges Fell” upcoming book by me (David L O’Nan) on Cajun Mutt Press from Robin McNamara

author of “Under a Mind’s Staircase” with Hedgehog Press


David L O’Nan’s poetry reads like the American landscape. Filled with hope, passion and despair. If you like Charles Bukowski then you’ll like these poems. A very relevant poet in today’s indifference to mankind’s suffering and abandonment. There is a strange kind of comfort, a familiarity within the poems like: 

Living in This Toxic Coalmine with the opening lines:

‘There are fields that no one wants to breathe There is a reality in which we cannot be.’

A Coffee Shop Chronicle has the beautiful Bukowski-style lines:

‘She’d drink vodka until 3 A.M. after

Saturday night excursions. She had men

howling for her and laughing at watered down jokes.

She could play violin like Alice Hartoncourt, with the beauty of the moonchild spirit.’

A highly relevant poet for the times we live in who paints an Edward Hopperesque canvas across the pages with his words. Highly recommended.

“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)

3 new poems from Robin McNamara

Robin McNamara – impspired

You cannot lose what you’ve wanted 
If you’ve never had it. You cannot 
betray what you’ve never had.

And after darkness’s thrall
Comes morning’s fall of heart.
Torn apart. The beggars remorse,
The lovers lament. Damned 
With craving for something distant,
For something gone. She’d sing 
Her songs from a distance. Velvet 
Voice with all kinds of black to soothe 

Those fevered minds long lost 
In the hollow of the dark to stories 
of false prophets, who the night declined. 
A torn Nirvana. You. Temptress of the mind. 

I can taste, the fruit of your lust.
The holy man, oh, how how he raged.
For I had dared to preach 
In tongues of fire and desire, of all my sins;

In this ancient language of your ancestors. 
And the fire. It is endless. It is endless.

Dirty Hands & Paper Cups

In the grip of an icy day in
Christmas glow of seductive 
lights from designer brands
in shop windows we passed 
the flow of human traffic.
Two laneways thick on the pavement 
in bobble hats and devotional worship 
of the gods in their hands.

And then we passed a shadow 
of another being, greyed, black 
and quite as night; illuminated 
with the decay of society. Hands 
of mercy cupped for crumbs of your 
conscience in the season of goodwill, 
as you rush for things you think will 
blind your passing indifference. 

The Ghost Poet

Snakeskin songs along the Boulevard 
Groove in a husky voice. Whiskey  
breath and the death of poetry from
fast addictions. The Native Indian he
was a wise man inside my soul. 
The Ghost Dance/ the Ghost Dance/
shedding my skin in a dance of trance. 
French kissing tequila bottles, the Indian soul screams: no more! 
                                                                       It’s the end of the night.
Wolfpack Contributor: Robin McNamara

A Poetry Showcase for Robin McNamara

A Book Review: Robin McNamara – Under A Mind’s Staircase

Published poetry by Robin McNamara from “Under A Mind’s Staircase”

A Fevers of the Mind Quick-9 Interview with Robin McNamara

2 poems by Robin McNamara : New York city ain’t you just so & Holy Fires of Religion

Poems by Robin McNamara : “Here in the Woods” & “Sandpaper of Shame”

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