Map of the World

Near the Niger riverbank
A child swims in shallow torrents
Unaware that in his eyes
Rests a fathomless parasite
Who must develop and consume
A steady diet of his vision
Or face the consequence life
That it will inevitably parish

On the back roads of Capri
There's a colony leopards
Marooned for the last rapture
Because their flesh is bad attired
They receive no Christmas presents
From their families and friends
Although they do get compensation
When their ligaments disintegrate

Through a market in Karachi
A women hide's inside a stall

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poem by Kevin Patrick
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Pins and Needles

I am a pin among needles
Clamouring for supremacy
Within a junkyard asylum
Where to win is a treadmill
Of repetitious manoeuvres
Heading forever in saucer
Towards the high peaks of matte paintings
Conveying the false felicitations
Of the ringmasters intrigues
Conspired in suited hyperbole
Through the tip of the whip that tortures desires
Through my magnetic obsessions
And deprecated occupations
That polarizes my character
Into the disconnected hemispheres
Lingering in vertices of static hope and wedded fear

Passive aggressive is the flame
In which the third stone rides the train
And I staire drifting in a crowded shadow

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poem by Kevin Patrick
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Death Of A Beehive

Its geometry was fractured
With the flash of the first bulb
The shelf-life of her membrane
Became our sacrificed mascot

From Southgate to Manhattan
You swarmed stages with entrapment
Pouring nectar from your voice
While falling through your private void

Simon said, 'where is that girl? '
She hummed, and bused, but had no sting
Instead, she laughed with black eye pearls
Doomed without the keys to spring

Limousine dreams and red carpet galas
Hollywoods down the yellow brick road
You gave us the taste of your contralto honey
But we neglected your poison, with all that money

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poem by Kevin Patrick
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An Elgy Allegro

Green promenades in meadows wide
Blue radiates a vaulted sky
A chorus of aster stretches through
A splintered Hillock's crystal stream
Where the laughing sun spills out its arms
On lines of wine libations pour
Seesaws of shadow betwixt with gold
Ferment the stately land with moss

Sweet air that strews with honey dew
And calm scantly minted lavender
Invites grasshoppers sound concord
To buzz the bell of natures chapel
Upon the stone I sit and watch
The Birch trees leafs whisper scarcely
Boughs of emerald toothed mosaics
Sway in the breeze a fresh Melody

Here the sounds of thrushes Speaking
Passions luster in pastures Eden

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poem by Kevin Patrick
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Four Words

Four beautiful words
Delicately summarizing
A close captioned response
To the Mount Everest of obstacles
Inherently surmounting
The Predestined athletes
Untrained to the Olympics
Of the human condition
Xenophobic retributions
While finding solace in the dog race
In the rewards that there are four words
Worth more than silver, bronze and gold

Four simple words
Hurdling as radio waves
As a beacon of acoustics
Beyond the ocean of infinity
Providing a dosage of serenity
For the occupants in space ships
Recycling dormant relations

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poem by Kevin Patrick
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Nothing Truly Ends

Nothing truly ends, for nothing truly begins
The state of all existence, is a season of flux
Temporary, transient, and never eternal
For how would we learn, if everything was ordered?

Ex Nilo arises, from spontaneous fiat lux
The one we call God, is the action of potential
Drawing in a molecule, exploding billions of new guises
From which we are the middle, in his alpha and omega

Stars come and go in the blink of eons eyes
While their helium and carbon, sow the gift of life
Archaea bacteria, and the crème de la eukaryotes
From Trilobites to Dinosaurs, rise a tree of life is magical

For if you accept happiness as a crystallized moment
Would mean to lose the glory of sacrifice acceptance

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poem by Kevin Patrick
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The mayor of Toronto

The mayor of Toronto has cutback public service
Deciding that people are an affront to his office
How dare they want things deserved from their leaders
Shouldn't they be happy for paying their taxes?
So goodbye Libraries, hospitals and public transport
You're gone to pay for jails and the policemen's donuts
The only sanitation is another cup from timmies
Were regulars converge to scorn the Maple Leafs

There was an old lady who thought for her meals
She went to city council and complained about abuse
But the mayor sat in his chair looking slightly obtuse
Wondering if she dropped would she taste like veal?
Then Marge paid a visit in her Viking regalia
Prompting the mayor to run in hysteria
He called the police with the fury of curses
Peering through the window to spot hot nurses

He doesn't like drugs but he does endorse snow

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poem by Kevin Patrick
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Portrait of the Desperate

You can stab me with the paint brush
With your initial impressions
Condemning me as a cliché
In the gulag Guggenheim
Posting travesty appraisals
Like fishing hat khaki tourist
Whose idea of high culture
Is a Big Mac at MacDonald's
Enjoy reducing my existence
To sacrosanct banalities
Pontificating irreverent techniques
Of vindictive enmities
Now just adjust me on the meat hook
In your cauterized exhibit
Posting slaughterhouse celebrations
Where the brain police pollution
Egregious diuretic polemics
Under sanguine lit fluorescence
The skin hides peal the canvas
On the phlegmatic eczema easels

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poem by Kevin Patrick
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Many Things That I Regret

There are many things that I regret

Like
Blowing my nose
And observing the contents
of the tissue sheet paper
Just to see the colour
Of my nasals mucous
And the interesting shape
That it takes
When ejected
From both of my nostrils
(Snowman yellow)

Or
Putting my fingers
in the Peanut butter Jar
To taste the paste nectar

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poem by Kevin Patrick
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Bodies in Alignment

The wasp watches me
As I stare at it
Pensive with tweezers
Of academic esquire
That this derelicts of nature
Small brother in absentia
Should be compelled to wonder
The sedimentary escritoire
On top terrestrial ink blots
Perpendicular to my pen

For I should be alarmed
While caustically anxious
At the dagger protruding
From its cutting underbelly

But I am not afraid
Simply curious

That this Striped yellow jacket

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poem by Kevin Patrick
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