A Fevers of the Mind Poetry Showcase for Duane L. Herrmann

Gasping For Air

Dark hole sucks
me in suddenly,
no warning
and I'm lost
falling, falling, falling.
No bottom, no end,
until time passes
while others stand
condemning
they know not what.
Private agendas
pursued regardless
of consequences
to the future.
The one in pain
gasps, seeing
destruction looming
restrained from stopping.

Automatic "ON"

There is a switch
I cannot find
somewhere
inside of me.

PANIC! PANIC!! PANIC!!!

It sounds alarms
instantly, before
I know it's happened.
Train thunders by
pulling me along.
Far down the way
steam has decreased
and my brain
can think again.
Others say: “Insane,
unreasonable, bizarre,
not fit...” No.
Just mental wiring.

Jumbled Together

Reading, I come
to jumbled letters
on the page.
A word, I think,
but what?
Makes no sense.
I close my eyes,
stop thinking,
let the letters sort
themselves right.
Open my eyes:
there is now a word
and I continue
reading.
Less, this happens
as age becomes
my pain, yet
I remember still


Letters Stand

A mind contesting
with its brain
over what the body
will do – 
or won't.
The daily, hourly,
struggle of one
so graced with dys-
lexia. Letters
on the page don't
stand still, or
stay in order.
Others have no clue.
Child doesn't know
all others aren't the same – 
this, the normal
he only knows.
I know.

Unfoldment

When your grip is slipping
off the rope
and there is no length left
for another knot
to hang on to....
What do you do?
What do you hold on to?
What can you do?
What will hold you up?

Wings

WINGS
will set you free!
WINGS
you didn't know you had.
WINGS
of unknown power.
WINGS
beyond belief.
WINGS to fly!



Bio: Duane L. Herrmann, an internationally published, award-winning poet and historian, has work featured in print and on-line publications as Midwest Quarterly, Little Balkans Review, Flint Hills Review, Manifest West, Inscape, Orison, Gonzo Press, Tiny Seed Literary Journal, and more, in  fifty-plus anthologies, over one hundred other publications, plus a sci fi novel. A fifth generation Kansan, with branches of his family here before the revolution, and a Native branch even longer, he writes from, these perspectives. His full-length collections of poetry include: Prairies of Possibilities, Ichnographical, Praise the King of Glory, No Known Address, Remnants of a Life, and Family Plowing. His poetry has received the Robert Hayden Poetry Fellowship, inclusion in American Poets of the 1990s, Map of Kansas Literature, Kansas Poets Trail, and others.  This, despite an abusive childhood embellished by dyslexia, ADHD, cyclothymia, an anxiety disorder and now, PTSD.  The father of four and grandfather of seven, he was surprised to find himself on a farm in Kansas and is still trying to make sense of that, but has grown fond of grass waving under wind, trees, and the enchantment of moonlight.

Panic…Attacks by Adrian Ernesto Cepeda – poem

from Free Images.com

first published in Rhythm N Bones Lit

Panic…Attacks

It comes with the shivers, goosebumps hairs stand up, already rising, demanding my attention, on my skin, so familiar, feeling the invincible onset simmering, my torment returns, loudly like a kettle boiling over the stove, too late to catch my heaving breath, my throat clenches, restlessness invades me, unable to sit, still...gasping in blasts of hyperventilation there is no shelter, give me some refuge from this invisible guided missile landing inside my chest. My once beating heart now faintly pulses defeated by my inner explosions, with all these exhales, trying to grasp this unshakable terror, faceless gripping my circadian is out of rhythm as this constant worry becomes my monster leaving teeth marks, chewing calmness, devouring serenity out of my skull. This anxiety lives for biting scars that keep screaming Goblins, leaving so many demons like dragon fires gusting my wheezing breath, so many screams inside, feeling the burning of worse than the devil in hades, seething more fear underneath my flesh, even when I try to fight off this Evil, with the flashback of these lightbulbs keep shattering scorched thoughts shadowing me, as I try to turn off these intense little frantic voiced suggestions that sparks reignition of devastation, ideas keep coming back, return within my inner temple always haunted with more waves of sweats, drowning my voice, swimming inside this sea of darkness always leave me dousing in pain. In the dark, all those cackling echoes always surround, my panic keeps attacking setting off implosions, leaves me beaten, reliving all the faces, lost within unshakeable places, tracing my failures, storming the return of these unstoppable tears reawakens all my doubts that I've suppressed, as I try diving under these sheets, there is no cover for this endless ruination, I believe this agony will last forever, my chattering breath prays for some kind of salvation from my gripping chest, under my covers this cursing shadow always feels worse than death.

Before I Turn Into Gold Online Anthology: 4 poem showcase by Adrian Ernesto Cepeda

Nick Cave Inspired poems by Adrian Ernesto Cepeda

A Fevers of the Mind Quick-9 Interview with Adrian Ernesto Cepeda

Spotlight Links to the Poetry Question

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