Two Poems by David L. O'Nan

 

Utopian Window Blinds

 

I met John Christopher after I

awoke from bright brain

damaging lights and a spinning

stomach of cocktails of poisons.

 

He dressed like a wizard,

clouds gathered pulleys of gods and he

shut the utopian window blinds.

 

He offered me a dollar burrito

as his naked girlfriend walked in.

She took 2 steps towards the fridge and purged

a gallon of wine into particles of cat litter.

 

I want to get back to the

windows where maybe I can see

heaven in distances, or

mountains bare of snow.

 

I’m lucky to know this stranger

who kindly sings to us, gives

us the gifts of impressionist

art and Beethoven’s piano

tattooed in his brain.

 

I’m unlucky that I haven’t woke

up and maybe that party was

just a fool’s joke and maybe

behind those thunderstorms is

the bite of the lame, the

slaughter, the hug of raging water.

 

Beautify my broken heart

Look into my mind and tell me

I am Magical

Don’t let me slip, crooked and without a home.

 

Let me sit with the shadows

and let me remember the

women that used to flirt with these unknown soldiers.

White Sheet Metal Heat

 

I guess you’ll just invite yourself in,

Mr. superiority with black eyed, bloodshot, half-crippled

driving severed metal motorcycles with a loaded gun.

A corpse walker with white sheets in America.

Driving till the blood burns to a volcanic metal heat.

 

You travel with the Sturgis circus

Don’t come near my family, “wise man”

Flask in your hand, Crystal Meth bubbling in your head.

Buzzing up bumblebees in your fuzzy dreams, swing at the hornet’s nest

and watch the clouds bleed.  There is no glow for you.

Long grass blades with burnt tips is your energy fuel.

 

With your solid white sheet, you think you’re a form of king.

Smothering in like funnels obliterating nails and shreds of the trailer park

vacuum up in the flames.  The paedophile Uncle and his 100 page letters

can’t invent you a new identity.  They can’t make your potatoes grow. And they can’t

stalk your women for you full time.  There’s a burning ball of gas heading your way

to explode you from rotten to root.

 

Come on over, Mr. Loaded gun.

See the scars ripping through my skin.

Can you identify me as a fossil that has been eaten from flesh to ghost already?

Bones stripped and my teeth ready to chew.   I’ve buried rapist like you with the worms .

Crusting off in this white sheet metal heat.

Bravado comes, bravado runs

Bravado comes, bravado runs

Keep the running, bravado when blades chase

Keep the running, ego and greed. It is getting hotter and hotter.

 

Hide in your hills of dirt, ready to strike when the guard is down

I’ve got the battle plan in my head, I’ve got the battle field in the mazes of vessels and neurons

I’ve got the mind and all you have is led and steel, swerving mirrors showing a shady fuck!

Drink your medicine for those brain eating “turkey mites”  with threats and shouts

and cuss you outs. Swallowing in your drug infected teeth.  Swallow them down into flakes

into the burning ulcer of your white sheet metal heat.

 

Your magic wand has left your hand.

David L O’Nan (he/him) is the founder of Fevers of the Mind Poetry & Art, A writer, editor for nearly 20 years. 

He has pieces found in IceFloe Press, Anti-Heroin Chic, Ghost City Review, Royal Rose Magazine, Rhythm & Bones Lit, Cajun Mutt Press, Lothlorien Poetry Journal, Nymphs Publishing, Spillwords, Wombwell Rainbow Blog, Punk Noir Mag, Elephants Never, 3 Moon Publishing & a past contributor to Headline Poetry & Press. 

He has 5 books available on Amazon & also has 6 Anthology books of Fevers of the Mind Poetry & Art Digest & the Avalanches in Poetry Writings & Art Inspired by Leonard Cohen Anthology available online as well.  

Twitter @DavidLONan1 @feversof  and www.feversofthemind.com Poetry & Art Group on Facebook.

Website is www.feversofthemind.com for many interviews, book reviews, short stories & poetry from many.