Let Them Weep Where They Fall
Seraphim beauties sleep too soon
Beneath marked waves of Neptune’s throne
Cemented chaste by their patriarchs pride
Bowed in the sacrosanct of Jephthahs ties
Where cowards honor, above love is the chosen sacrificed
And a daughter’s noble blood, is as cherished as dorm Mice
So let them weep where they fall,
let them weep where they fall
Seas distract tears and drown laments in their souls
Let them weep where they fall
Let them weep where they fall
Deny them the light where Gods propinquity dissolved
When you ran refuge towards the dawn of new shores
Did you not stop to think what your children would learn?
As they became more acquainted to the garden of delight
Found in abundance of the forest of the western sun rise
The treasures of eye liner, cell phones and good looking boys
How dare they decide their freedom of choice
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poem by Kevin Patrick
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Cassandra's Blues
Prescience was the fatal curse
That drove her future in a Hearse
Towards the walls of fatal dice
Where Achaeans bid so well to smite
Their wooden vessel that encodes
The Sun Gods laughter on his thrown
Vengeance for her first refusal
Comforts from his lecherous council
While hazard poured outside her tongue
Hiccupped through riddles of vapors lost
Her relatives could not profess
It's semblance for common sense
Whereas ten thousand stood outside
She wailed besieged to the endgames tide
Perhaps they should have played charades
Then they wouldn't have been a myth one day
Cassandra's Blues were born from the truth
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poem by Kevin Patrick
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Bottle Rocket
It's flimsy and clumsy
and epileptically sturdy
Lacking circuit transistors
With 20 inch motors
The paint jobs diminished
Crackling white brim acrylics
And you can see the Coke logo
Embellished beneath the port windows
But none of this matters
Even if the ship scatters
For it's propelled with conviction
Against the Sadisms of Physics
It's an aluminum cadaver
Furbishing two cylinder pillars
With an apple juice cartridge
Bifurcated as the ship's bow
It's got wings to counterbalance
The aerodynamic escaping actions
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poem by Kevin Patrick
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Island In A Sea Of Space
Night stroked the vision from the dream I became
While soothed to the pull from the door of the first page
The salt of ocean lingered in my nostrils that quivered
Confusion annulled existence rampant waves of haphazard rigor
Beneath opaque sapphire that crept on scarlet shores
Shimmering reminiscence particles between my velvet toes
As I kissed the look of horizon that rotated mechanically
On the soft romances of childhood kidnapped into Fantasy
I was spellbound in purgatory that was five miles round
Sheathed in Pacific imitation of Hawaii bold mounds
Forever encapsulated as the cynosure of pure anger
That was licensed to service by the Machiavellian Doctor
In an island in a sea of space
Old Satellites ascended in a cathedral of black mass
Whispering anxious luminescence in geodesic glass
Orion sat lackadaisically behind the nave of Ganymede
Vacillating the trajectory to escape his lovers band
As he encroached the heavens as I wondered as fractal
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poem by Kevin Patrick
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Jerry Is A Man
Margaret bought him from a Phoenix laboratory
Outrage he'd get the axe, in the literal of sense
Cargrew thought her mad, and took it all in strides
Brownie was displeased and said it was her spit
But she said it was concern for all utensils right
Because Jerry is a man not a dog food machine
He was just a cattle Joe engineered for sanitation
Built for odd job routines, across the corporate nation
Labor made his paradise, benefits with no insurance
His occupation hazards were befitting for compensation
Which he got in payment of non brand name cigarettes
It was just the perfect timing for a mansion on Malibu
Got an autoclave Zamboni for a test tube baby daddy
Factory commissioned with a brand name on his sleeve
Though his intelligence quotation is below a baby elephant
He’s an expert with his fingers above anthropoid development
Built completely from scratch with proteins that can match
There’s nothing faulty in his conscience because he’s just a man
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poem by Kevin Patrick
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Socialist Jesus
Revolution is dead,
buried next door to God
I Got his son's autograph,
at the souvenir shop
You can buy him on T-shirts,
and black duffle bags
Pin his sepulchral image,
on white dormitory walls
While rehearsing old prayers
Of old liberalisms brand
From a barging philosophy
In a consecrated ideology
Socialist Jesus
the second coming of '53
He road on a motorcycle
to the front page of history
Helping Amazonian Leopards
and Miners strike in Chile
His Pilate were black suits
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poem by Kevin Patrick
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Screaming is Free
Screaming is free you should try it some time
I've been a consultant since the long age of five
Schooled in Diogenes I'm not so artful to be a cynic
But I'm stealthily committed as a cautious romantic
Labouring under the pretense of amateur wisdom
Byron's stealth's a placebo and I'm really a Novice
Who's been committed to the specter of being human
Miscategorised in a genus that would disturb poor Lepidus
Always caught in a kaleidoscope of my own imagination
Ballooning to horizons that escape from realism
Novels, Rock & Roll and Sci-Fi, are my obsessions
Finding solace in the refuge of a hermits born oasis
Cause I've Been kicked in the heart and pushed on the wall
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poem by Kevin Patrick
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Riot
From the flickering screen to the eye of my eye of the world
I see the dance of old children around a ring of fire
They swarm downtown as ambassadors of Reichstag ghost
Piling debris of the streets into aluminum pyres
Where black smokes in vigor in the war of Childs play
Leading plagues of amber flames that erase all false remorse
Rehearse well for reason: say it's for losing the game
Guilt washed from their faces as they entertain a savage choir
Riot - ignites Pandora's Box of treats
Her final secret unwrapped the cellophane teats
Riot - assemble the horseman's chariot
Let them carpool in masse as they scourge Vancouver's streets
Two Escalades asphyxiate in pool charred embers
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poem by Kevin Patrick
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Subject - 731
Flickering bulbs, pass a narrowing hall
Where the conscience ape still glimmers
His breath percolates, as he's held to the bed
Straps tugging away at his femur
Fear escalates, as the wheals nimbly turn
Boldly, towards the screaming tomb
For the ape is aware: that no one returns
Exactly intact from that room
Closer and closer, the ape slowly goes
Down to the jaws of the abyss
Where brothers now lay, mementoes for worms
Indiscriminately erased
Squirming with effort, he puts up a struggle
While white coats plant him a needle
Weight grows unsteady, the light becomes vague
Chemically, enabled feeble
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poem by Kevin Patrick
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Bring Out Your Dead
It's the call to arms for the educated tigers
The miscreant saints in the high-rise Babylon's
Crusading for pleasure in cobblestone discotheque
Down their Rhoads and Damascus of Friday light sapphire
Credo alone - swept into the ravished torrents of desire
Drowned in ravenous feelings for junky blue dealings
For this is the call of summers bee songs
saying bring out your dead bring out your dead
These perilous streets were never made for the old
But the lost boys and girls caught in the dreams of fools
Stealing the stars to mince their Sequin and Fedoras
Through their I phone icon of ephemeral idolatry
Show the office disciples fueled in paparazzi bibles
Wanting fame in the name of the virtue of shame
Bleeding hearts always empty to the pastimes of avarice
Which you hear in the strobes screaming bring out your dead
Bring out your dead
And through your Rimbaud's eye I see De Sades soul
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poem by Kevin Patrick
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