A Tale Of Winters Dream
The waxing span of the silver moon
Calls to the breeze of the winters chill
The brittle arms of the lone Birch
Lay still to the frost but are not deterred
And overhead in an Old mans study
Sits a little boy watching all of this quietly
He pulls a quilt to his weary eyes
Watching snowfalls gently like the eiderdown fly
Candles lithe to an enveloped glow
Defeats the shadows, with a golden echo
A thousand creatures, roam up the ceiling
Dragons flicker avidly while unicorns preen near by
The child laughs, as the old man watches
The vital life of youth with imagined glasses
Together they watch the stars and the snow
Forever besieged in this mementos note
poem by Kevin Patrick
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Our Hearts Are Foreign Pictures
Our Hearts are foreign pictures
Streamlined in acute nostalgia
We speak with aid of mirrors
Through perditions of bad subtitles
The roads we drew dissected
Between the span of two Berlins
Inside an abstract exhibited
Monogamous symmetry of our selves
Our hearts are foreign pictures
Once transitioned into colleagues
Now collapsing into integers
Of separate distinctive ashes
The laws of sexual attraction
Have diminished with every return
The sad physics of lust
Is that its momentum decreases with trust
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poem by Kevin Patrick
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Chemical Eden of Shelf Life Goods
Enter the garden: of commerce labour
Here taste the fruit under sunlight fluorescents
You can find verity in one or two choices
Vegetation sterilized polished lit synthetics
Come taste the fruit in shelf life groves
Arrayed in the nature of alphabetic order
Apricots opposite peaches and plums
Keep red separate from tangerines and oranges
Cellophane wraps on prepackaged lettuce
Enhance the flavour with plastic vigour
Genetically modified red beef tomatoes
Could give your children a taste for a tumor
It's a chemical Eden disguised as produce
Quick sterile minerals is synthetic nutrition
With modified cornstarch Gluten conditioned
You hardly realized your biologist reduced
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poem by Kevin Patrick
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My Wife
Anger is my first wife
And I've even slept with her sisters too
Called Rage and Fury
The medicine of which was an unsatisfying affair
Now a sea of regrets
From a conceived obscenity a basted of my own blunders
Out of inhibitions
Augmenting the lesions on my chlorine cerebellum
Hatreds three-way tumor
Converge the impotency of passions in raw static fervor
Hangs Remorse's anniversary
As I taste the black milk from temptations cracked breast
My tortured enchantress
Sings me the gallows of my impatiens inequities hubris
With eyes of Verdigris
I recklessly wonder from the frying pan to fire
Sucking the ghost navel
That intoxicates me with lust of angers stygian bile
That I call my wife
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poem by Kevin Patrick
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Wish you were Dead - a loving tribute to David Gilmour and Roger Waters
So, So I think I can Say, that being with you
Was like heaven and hell
Though in the end just the latter
Blue skies filled with Grey
You made green fields frail
By your cold steel shell
Your innocents was a veil
; Yes I think I can tell
You betrayed all your heroes
And made them friends with a knife
Hot Ashen compassion!
Hot air with no manner!
Should just change you to cold matter
Yes Id rather exchange
romance with a passing bullet
than being married to your tragedy!
How I wish, how I wish you were dead! ! !
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poem by Kevin Patrick
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Creed
What's the opposite of faith?
Reason
And who commerce's in sin?
Hypocrites
And if my faith is reason that makes me a sinner
Then I am the model of a righteous hypocrite
Who makes the paradigm shift?
A person
And what constitutes successful conformity
Sheep
Then let me be a person who eats all the sheep
And gives orthodoxy bad indigestion
How do you defy temptation?
Moderation
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poem by Kevin Patrick
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Honest Day's Work
If God was a man
He would portray beggar
Fetching employment
As a salesmen shoe shiner
On every hour for the day
Collecting quarters for every dollars
So that he could properly spend
A working income in a restaurant
Eating corn beef on a plastic plates
With macaroni as the extra
And if anyone saw him they would scoff
To think beneath the rags and grime
Was a lord of light of virtues love
Prospering with indivisible wealth
To touch and sense life's great breath
And they would hide their children eyes
To cover the king of meekness pride
Substituting material needs
With the bare bones of his own creed
And he will leave the biggest tip
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poem by Kevin Patrick
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It's Always Down Hill
Is a bird free because it can fly?
Or is it just trapped to circle the sky?
Climbing higher and higher to the limits of north
Before it descends on the air as the remnants of compost
Turning over its feathers to try and break the hold
Of gravities marriage which none can divorce
Accept through assistance of liquid nitrogen
It's sad when there are limits to what you find in comparison
For what gifts are wings without boundaries to cross?
To circle forever as an avian ouroboros
Perpetually attaining the height of stratospheres
King of the towering high-rises of steel
Lords of New York and emperors of Beijing
But never released from its impoverished searching
That it has to fly forever over to escape its free will
In the certainty of knowing it's always down hill
poem by Kevin Patrick
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Deck Chair Blues - For lonely Deck chairs everywhere
There is nothing more distressing
Observing a deck chair that is bored
Always waiting for an attendant
Who will make them comfortable
It's quite a lonesome vocation
Laying still near the indoor pool
Standing at ease in white plastic
Waiting for the hours Renewal
Sometimes it will get a family
Breaking up a day's holiday
On others it could be a lawyer
Looking for a rest from the quay
But mostly it sits there forlorn
Marooned in somber etiquette
Immersed by riddling currents
Of Tropical ghost light silhouettes
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poem by Kevin Patrick
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Catatonic Optimist
Candy with breakfast makes everything brighter
Turns my feelings hygenic, and make orange juice lighter
Junk mail and traffic are no longer my hassles
When I take from a vial that makes me see castles
Catatonic Optimism
It hits faster then a missle
Heading out towards havanah
Where mushrooms form inside nirvana
Neighbors bad dealings, and boses cold grins
Disregard all the tension from a neutralizing syringe
I used sigh heavey and lay under green blankets
But now its treacle, and with hookah I can slack it
Catatonic Optimism
You'll collide with cartoon vission
Taking rides inside bubble's
Flying lightyears from any trouble
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poem by Kevin Patrick
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