The Third Poetry, Writings & Art Inspired by Leonard Cohen Anthology from Fevers of the Mind Press! The first edition “Avalanches in Poetry” was released in 2019. In 2022 “Before I Turn Into Gold” (Avalanches in Poetry II) was released. With more artwork from Geoffrey Wren and listed below are several contributors through writing, photography & art.
In 2016 the world was changing. We lost legends. The world began to scramble, and 5 plus years later, we are still in disarray. Politics, Pandemics, a loss of passion. Anger, Depression, the unknown.
We are still writing. We are still painting. We are still artists.
Just listen to Leonard Cohen for a few moments. Read the truths that he wrote and sung about in metaphor and imagery.
For a few moments we can regain passion enough to feel inspired as he has the writers and artists featured in this second anthology in honor of Leonard Cohen.
Contributors include: Geoffrey Wren, David L O’Nan, HilLesha O’Nan, Lindsay Soberano-Wilson, Robert Frede Kenter, Davis Varghese, John Donley, D.C. Nobes, Elizabeth Cusack, Tom Harding, Tom Driscoll, Lennon Stravato, Peter Hague, Helen Lurye, B.A. O’Connell, Christopher Martin, Greg Fanning, Roger Carter, wv sutra, Elaine Beckett, D Rudd-Mitchell, Kushal Poddar, Jessica Coles, Amelie L Peterson, Dianne L Knox, Susan Lavender, Elaine Webster, Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal, D.L. Lang, James Walton, Joan Enoch M.D., Myrtle Thomas, Walden Quinn Caesar, Jason Lee, Clarissa Cervantes, Ellyn Maybe, Allan Lake, Rob Plath, Eliot Katz, Lynn White, Andrea Lambert, Jan Sargeant, Evelyn (Eve) Hall, Paula Hayes
Get a copy today! Paperback & Kindle on Amazon where available.
David L O’Nan is a Midwest poet, editor and founder of Fevers of the Mind (www.feversofthemind.com) he has been nominated for Best of the Net numerous times. He’s had several books and revised books. He has edited and curated Fevers of the Mind Anthologies including Fevers of the Mind Poetry, Art & Music Digest, Bare Bones Writing, On the Highways with Many Miles…to Go! (inspired by Kerouac, Miles Davis, Townes Van Zandt), Waltzin’ Through Rusty Cages (inspired by Elliott Smith & Chris Cornell), The Whiskey Mule Diner (inspired by Tom Waits), Hard Rain Poetry (inspired by Bob Dylan), 3 Leonard Cohen anthologies (soon)(Before I Turn Into Gold & Avalanches in Poetry), The Poetica Sisterhood of Sylvia & Anne (inspired By Sylvia Plath & Anne Sexton), Truth, Lies, Blasphemy & Disorder (inspired by Joy Division, New Order & Depeche Mode), The Chelsea Underground (inspired by Andy Warhol & the Factory, The Starman Oddity (inspired by David Bowie) He has been published in Poetry Life & Times, The IceFloe Press, Headline Poetry & Press, Spillwords, Cajun Mutt, Lothlorien Poetry Journal, Ghost City Press, Grains of Sand, Punk Noir Magazine, Rhythm n Bones, The Poetry Question, The Wombwell Rainbow and more. He will be reading this Summer in Louisville’s Insomniacathon. He has also edited the debut novel from New York City Poet Lennon Stravato “The Inner Dialect” and the poetry/prose collection “Werifesteria” from co-editor HilLesha O’Nan
Tinseltown Waif
I seem to be sour in the rags Near the Hollywood hills Hungry, and boiling in the weeds A Tinseltown waif I’ve become Once they recognize me, I’ll be here to stay In the silk, in the redwoods shadow Oh love, love me in these poisoned jewels Oh love me, love me dark secrets In these poisoned jewels.
The movies are waiting for me to glow The druggy Winter wind lifts new coughs A daddy here, a daddy there A mother here, then a mother goes They show up tortured at the show And like them they blew me out of my hole A s’envolent little blodwyn spread over the linoleum floor.
Blew me up to shards when the bomb is implanted inside The demons swoon for the dark secrets, please love me In these poisoned jewels, these poisoned jewels I love the way the surgery doesn’t leave a fight. I love the way that I’ve been dragged around, back to my failures again From a fertilized soul to a creep held at knifepoint back in Newburgh Where I can live in clouds and burn myself out on Scandinavian architecture.
Oh yes, slay this beast from the frozen mind, (so icy) (so unintelligible are these laughs) to the layers of my pink skin to the exposure of my needle pin heart from my memories dancing, dancing in love dancing in love, in dreams (so remarkable) (so silent are the voices) to the dreams of a bon voyage death pardon my decay
I can draw baby arrows to every star you can stab away at I have lived through many rap games before And you are shiny, in both sweat and grit The lights are burning into another bleeding on the streets With more hobnobbers begging to get in my door With a check in hand they shed like a spat out gold powder wig across the floor I can’t go with you my dark secret, you must take my poisoned jewels My poisoned jewels Too bruised up and banged around, too many bangles and tricks that devoured this clown, A Tinseltown waif.
Impressions
I was told as a young man that you can’t cosplay first impressions So I became a writer and took to new changes One minute I’m within view, the next I’m behind the mask I’m writing the bible, the next I’m writing my last rhyme Do you think I can survive the critics and these Main Street throne whores? They want you to make an impression, They don’t want to play the game They want you to see every brick chip away in front of their eyes.
You are told that life moves slowly, don’t come in here looking for the fast pace Don’t come in here searching for answers, the answers are in local favorite pretenders Pretentious and narcissistic, deflowered and wildly cocked in their own cage Running into the sharp edges time and time again While the boys in the bookstore are becoming raging mad and wanting a wet whistle Asking for an accomplice hanger on and to believe in all of their made up magic shows They want constant impressions, they want the bald headed bravado boy to show them the haze He once had the moon for hair and was praying to the new wave impermanence.
You can be handsome in impressions, you can be a dead doll in impressions You can be polished and known in impressions, you can be a broken bell in a paper cup in impressions You can be the gnarly fly buzzing on your window in impressions, you could be that butterfly we all want Be ruled by in your impressions You could be human in your impressions, you can be a ripe boorish robot in your impressions You can be the lonely carrier in your impressions, you can be the whip-smart violent wind in your impressions You can write yourself out of the scene in your impressions, you can murder the star in your impressions You can steal the light and dress like next night in impressions.
Cars on Epworth
The swarming metal 1984 Chevrolet Monte Carlo Long and blue Every car on this endless drive Speeding in and out of stop to go From go to stop and dare me to fly Breaking apart, my tacky bug
Epworth, is buzzing from crow to magpie I’m alone in my supercar I’m feeling phantoms tickle me and daring me to fly Retching, and swat at across the broken yellow lines Pulling cords over me like a net, and the magnet will lift me away Daring me to fly
Funeral Boys
Boys so cold living in the funeral hut Brooks Brothers black jackets, brown Florsheim shoes White starched button down shirts and detached soul-less eyes They’ll wink at you for a good time, They are dressed chivalrous for the living and the dead Winter mornings and Summer Nights They count the wrinkles from wise to grey Let’s not forget their mysterious fearless creeping walks Slowly, slowly, slowly, slowly and slowly they walk down and up Stepping on the tears, digesting the multitude of ghosts that lingers in the air.
They smoke their cigarettes out the door They greet the widow with a halo of pain They look like identical Jacques Brels with yellowing teeth The wallpaper at the wake slipping off between coffee spills The caskets are like a puncturing cactus when the solemn wants comfort The funeral boys are just waiting for their hearse to arrive back from the ball The funeral boys are the shadows, the funeral boys are the roar, the funeral boys are an awake dream They will be permanently live in the scent
Selling the World to Thieves
They achieved dysfunctional and prude I wondered what was wicked and what was righteous I was told that you were a scam, I was told you are a thief Frail and idiotic and baited me to the condemned light The humor was caustic as we pretended we weren’t obsolete They invented a man that day in front of the thieves The skin of the fruit, the fang of the wolf
We began a newfound religion, in the mud of windswept graves We lived fearless, we lived dangerously as an escaped slave I’ve been weaved to the finish line as a string pulling away from the control The thieves don’t cry, they worship your grief You can only live in your own milk, you can only sing your own songs You have to breathe in neutral numbness, and you have to be roasted into armour
Sold the world to thieves and all we have left is our chants, cries and wails through The hills and canyons and paltry floods we swim in. The cosmos are booming brother, take my hand and let’s marry the stars together
Red dwarf star Magician
Proxima Centauri, I’m climbing over to you from the sun As soon as I perfect my tricks as the Red dwarf star magician I’m bashing and clashing the puny and the robust bones to dust
Quickly The speed, the hammer Quickly The burning fuel, the shimmer Quickly The vacant smile, the extraordinary heart Quickly I’m complete, I’m magic, I’m the witch
What began as a dumpy kid, from girl to boy from woman to man What began as the Earth, is now endless and I can feel no more pain I’m escaping through and in motion I’m the blood Circulating across the sky, nonstop luminosity and invincible
Quickly The difficult, the breathing Quickly The shedding of my screaming Quickly The tiny winds, the tornadic wand Quickly I’m complete, I’m Magic, I’m the Witch The Red dwarf star Magician
Worm
This planet’s skin is where the blue worms twist and squirm, Underneath some stars that burn and give in to mutation churn, Kiss the stick of dynamite, a cosmic flirtation, The Earth is a murderer and a stalking aberration.
Now there are sand dunes that bite like vipers in the night, Volcanic eruptions where I taste the fire in the ash of the ice. In this world of strange and wondrous lights, A banshee spirit comes in to fight and flight.
The setae of the universe is such an oddity and the charm is in the clinging, Where nothing’s quite as the circulation seems, Surreal is the blood in my dance on the moon and sun, Finding lines anew in my magic hands that have only just begun.
Let’s dance in the lunar glow, from the dirt I must burrow, The musculature sky is built in spirits and stars, A nematode basking in the orange glow, I can’t make a stand after all. I want to be the hero of this alien land to lead the call.
Disco Bleed
Obey my movements, To and from, shag me in the glowing moon in this room. Running with strings Burning muscles and dancing like a fuckin’ loon anaerobic and pulsating.
They want my conscience They want my moves They stole all my science My equations aren’t adding up The sum of cubes are what and how?
Slipping on marble Breaking atoms Breaking bones I broke wit and beauty Glowing in a disco bleed
Golden flares are cut up My yellow Nik Nik stained and severed My chest is not invisible My love is not intentional Sniff sniff until I am blue Screaming, fainted On the dancefloor I lost my electricity On that rhinestone fading night I’ve lost my needs I dropped some meds On the dancefloor I lost my head In the wooshing whispers
I, I lost my head
(c) Geoffrey Wren
Flesh of Lazarus
Come lift me up From this ill breath In Bethany, I’m being pulled at My skin, my flesh restrained Diseased, a dog in the corner With wet eyes, kissed by the plague
Devouring me, the demons are wicked tonight No chivalrous love, a quicksand glance And a falling boy in the black hole of this universe Etching tombstones for the visionaries. A powerful hand, powerful echo Howling giddy in the silence of night.
I’m just flesh, this flesh of Lazarus Broken free, from chains Thorns on crowns, masks on the faces They can’t stand to look At this man fade from yesterday At this lion being shaved of it’s mane
We are now taking submissions for art, poetry, prose, short stories, haiku, photography, digital art & more for the 3rd edition of poetry & art inspired by Leonard Cohen : Avalanches in Poetry III submission deadline (for now) is midnight by March 17th . Please include a bio. In Subject line somewhere include either Leonard Cohen Sub or Avalanches in Poetry Sub. Some Cohen inspired pieces from previous anthologies may be used as well. email is feversofthemind@gmail.com
An epic collection of poetry, art, writings & more inspired by the legendary David Bowie. From Thin White Duke to Ziggy to the Blackstar and every form in between. Contributors include David L O'Nan, Ron Whitehead, HilLesha O'Nan, Frogg Corpse, Dr. Faizan Syed, Geoffrey Wren, K Weber, Bud E. Ice, D Rudd Mitchell, Chad M. Horn, Elizabeth Cusack, Paul Warren, B F Jones, Lynn White, Mark Gilbert, Dusty Jaggers, Maggs Vibo, Jane Dougherty, Peter Hague, Christian Garduno, R.M. Engelhardt, Mike Zone, Brieanne K. Tanner, Clare O'Brien, Stephen Kingsnorth, Allen Ashley, Alshaad Kara, Eoin Devereux, Linda M. Crate, Neil Elder, Mary C.M. Phillips, D.L. Lang, Francis H Powell, David Alec Knight, JP Seabright, Kenneth M Cale, Jen Schneider, Luis Cuahtemoc Berriozabal, Matt Guntrip, Ivor Daniel, Harry Man, Christopher Martin, Robert Savela, Joe Kidd, Francesca Esme
Poetry & art inspired by Prince, Lana Del Rey, Audrey Hepburn, Marilyn Monroe, Leonard Cohen, Bob Dylan, Ava Gardner, Iggy Pop, Jack Kerouac, Meat Loaf, Portishead, John Keats, Gregory Corso, Beth Hart, The Cure, Morrissey, Bruce Springsteen, Buddy Holly, The National, Nick Drake, Syd Barrett, KD Lang, Monet, Picasso, Walt Whitman, Burroughs, Joni Mitchell & more.
Interviews with Damon Krukowski (Damon & Naomi/Galaxie 500/Magic Hour), Jolie Holland, Britta Phillips (from 2022 Dean & Britta, Luna) Frank Watkinson (from 2022) & Franz Nicolay (Hold Steady,World/Inferno Friendship Society)
Contributors include: David L O’Nan, HilLesha O’Nan, Geoffrey Wren, Carla Sarett, Giuseppina Brandi, Maggs Vibo, Jennifer Patino, Marisa Silva-Dunbar, rp Verlaine, Jackie Chou, Adrian Ernesto Cepeda, Sarah Wallis, Pasithea Chan, Monica Sharp, Matthew Freeman, Margaret Royall, Shine Ballard, Merritt Waldon, Mukund Gnanadesikan, Laura Grevel, Jeremy Limn, Dunstan Carter, Jared Morningstar, Ryan Keating, Lawrence Miles, Kevin Hibshman, Christina Strigas, James Schwartz, Nick Lacke, R.G. Evans, Clive Gresswell, Norb Aikin, Stephen Kingsnorth, Ethan McGuire, John Donley, Elizabeth Cusack, Colleen Wells
Current Available links: Please check periodically for availability status in your area.
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