The Poetry of Dan Abernathy
Dan Abernathy is an unruly, eccentric Quasi Spiritual Warrior. This Renaissance man is known as an outlaw poet, artist and purveyor of words, a junkyard philosopher, and a vagabond searching for a pure hedonistic meaning for his of life. His voice, be it in his words or in his art, is a collection of oddities, fascinations, desires and obsessions – a road map of sorts, tracking the life of a man that can’t and won’t fit in.
“His poems are a bit like a well fingered bowl of mixed treats in a dark bar - filled with some salty Charles Bukowski, some chewy Hunter S. Thompson, and a little zap-a-hooty sweetness ala Dr. Seuss (tossed in just for the kiddies...er, ah, not that I'd recommend this one for any mother's son."
- David Vaughan, an artist, writer from the Pacific Northwest coast.
This Selection of Poems are from
Morning Sex & Pancakes
New Chapbook
Morning Sex and Pancakes
$5.00 with Free Shipping,
Morning Sex and Pancakes is the second Limited Edition Chapbook in an edition of 333. My Mind Has Forgotten to Age was the first in the unnumbered series categorized as: Chronologies, Excerpts, Fragments and Reflections, From The Art Journals of Dan Abernathy. Each poem is documented in the Chapbooks after the conception of them in my journals.
Morning Sex and Pancakes
As for me,
well…
for me
I tired of …
A long time ago,
tight fitting clothes,
rudeness,
responsibility,
socks and underwear,
but I still irreversibly enjoy
strong coffee,
morning sex
and pancakes.
Chickens – Turkeys and T-shirts
There are chickens on the roof,
while some are on the table.
They are slowly high stepping,
while at the same time,
bobbing their heads and
pecking at empty corncobs,
which are tossed without care
amidst the empty plates.
There is a turkey standing still,
with menacing eyes
peering out the screen door,
a door that is broken,
fractured at each corner
and has no screen.
My father is disgusted.
Continued
I see a young girl
with new budding breasts
slightly revealed
beneath her brothers’
torn, dirty and once white T-shirt.
There is a far off
distant beat of dance music
pounding in my ear,
I’m 13 years old
and I do not want to die
without meeting a kiss.
So kiss me,
kiss me with your mouth wide open
and your eyes closed shut,
just as I have seen my sister do
when she thought I wasn’t there.
This Selection of Poems are from
My Mind Has Forgotten to Age
My Mind Has Forgotten to Age
My mind has forgotten to age
as I have lived my life
within the continuation of avoidance
towards living in default.
Default is what was easy,
but never what felt alive.
From within my journals I look back,
finding the broken pieces of yesterday.
The sights, thoughts and recollections,
now allocated to was.
Turning each page,
I seek a sanctuary of where I’ve been,
longing to find the place to rest
the glove of being
while who I am walks on.
There is no room
where my family rests,
miscalculation and migration
have filled the family plots.
I think about my finial moment,
feeling misplaced and somewhat lost,
as I do not know
where my tombstone goes.
A Portal to Nowhere
I sit in an old
smoothly worn, uneven chair,
crafted from a type of unknown wood.
Relaxed in the heat of shade
drinking warm Victoria Beer
and warmer Flor de Cana rum.
Across the murky street
I watch a faded red door,
a door with no sign, is open.
A portal to nowhere
but a brief release of what is.
I watch men walk in,
greeted by girls with no smiles.
As one walks in,
one walks out,
combing his sleek black hair.
I wonder
why they never comb their hair
when they walk in.
Chapbook
My Mind Has Forgotten to Age
$5.00 with Free Shipping,
My Mind Has Forgotten to Age, is the first Limited Edition, 333 signed and numbered, Chapbook in an unnumbered series categorized as, Chronologies – Excerpts – Fragments – Reflections, From The Journals of Dan Abernathy. Each of the 23 poems were documented after conception, in my journals as will as the drawings. The 13, drawings you will see are also, excerpts and fragment of a completed larger drawing. I have chosen to present them to you in this fashion, to leave a slight grain of mystical wonderment for the future.
This Selection of Poems are from
I Don’t Shave on Sundays
A Gift
Each word I write
is a self inflected wound.
A slash
with a sharp knife,
a hiss
with a gleaming sword,
a 45
stuck in my mouth
with little fear of pulling the trigger.
I write,
I reveal,
I speak
so the knives and guns
stay in the closet.
Each word I write
cuts into the person I am
releasing who I am
and I smile
so each word is a gift,
even if those receiving them
think they are insanity.
Hunter S. Thompson
I never knew Hunter S. Thompson,
But my girlfriend did.
When she lived in Aspen
they got high together.
She tells me he was pathetically funny,
hugely intelligent, amazingly crazy
and had more books in his kitchen
then she had ever seen before.
I wish that I had known her
when she knew Hunter S. Thompson.
Then I would have been able write something
about knowing this gonzo writer myself.
Knowing her,
is as close to knowing Hunter S Thompson
as I will ever get.
He is gone now,
for reasons that only Hunter S Thompson
will ever know.
A book of Poetry
I Don’t Shave on Sundays
SALE - $10.00 - SALE
Ambling through life with little regard for what society may say is normal ... Dan Abernathy is back with another collection of anti-conformist sentiments in true outlaw-poet fashion. I Don’t Shave on Sundays is a unique book of poems, salted with savory photographs from his worldly travels. Much like his previous work, Looking For Security While Wearing A Loin Cloth, Abernathy continues his strange, yet intriguing dialogue on life, love and the quest for truth in all things. This collection of poems and photographs adds a new perspective into the realm of an anti-conformist that shows great expression with life, while continuing a strange and intriguing correspondence with his readers showing what pours forth from his creative mind of intrigue. As your fingers turn the pages you can feel his touch has been there, and know that as you read his words, they flow from his heart, revealing more used, but untarnished life from an outlaw poet.
This Selection of Poems are from
Looking For Security While Wearing A Loincloth
Sex, Cats, Dogs and Wonder
When you are having sex,
when you are making love,
when you are fucking
and there is a dog in the room watching,
does it know what you are doing?
I also wonder why cats leave the room
when people fuck.
Crows, Ravens and Magpies
I went by a cemetery
the other day.
It was a crisp,
cloudy fall day with vibrant,
but subdued colors everywhere.
The cemetery was full of crows,
ravens and magpies.
They were jumping on,
and frolicking all around the headstones.
I thought for a moment
about all the crows, ravens and magpies
I have seen dancing
on the bloated carcass of dead animals.
I had an eerie,
uncomfortable feeling come about me.
When I die,
I think I'll be cremated
and scattered to the winds.
I don't want crows, ravens and magpies
dancing on my head.
Let Me Tremble
Let me hold,
see and feel
all that is beautiful.
Let me know
people are good
and not only living for themselves.
Let me know,
want and keep
love and compassion.
Let me pass onto others
a few moments of joy.
Let me give my children
a road map to what is pure.
Let me help all that I meet
tremble with life.
Let me live in this way,
and I will tremble with life.
A Book of Poetry
Looking For Security While Wearing a Loincloth
The Nonsensical Poetry of Dan Abernathy
SALE* $10.00 *SALE
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The time has come for, the “words” as author Dan Abernathy refers to them, to explode in a startling book of poetry. With over 100 pages of Nonsensical writing you will be sure and get a glimpse into the state of his chaos and confusion. Abernathy is known for his writing, poetry, art, photography and as a vagabond who walks in dreams of a pure, hedonistic life, with some of the most illogical views and inspirations seen, or heard. He has spent a lifetime in development of his own unconventional, individual and eccentric persona and is now releasing it in words. Read these poems and wonder what he looks at and sees to derive inspiration from. Things that most people would pass by, and some he ought to have his self, have inspired the whimsical and unfocused mind of this unfashionable individual.