Kevin Patrick Poems

L-ost in a thought of wanderlust

A-nd wondering if Ive reached the crust
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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
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Revolution is dead,
buried next door to God
I Got his son's autograph,
at the souvenir shop
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It’s a bug that won’t die, when you swat it with paper
Emerging unscathed from a cache of repellants
It neither hisses nor buzzes but it dashingly tapers
Zipping with remoteness to your aggregated annoyance
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Worms eat the earth that they were born in
Birds eat the worms they pry on the ground
Cats eat the birds that wander in the grass
Wolfs eat the cats that trek through the trees
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You are everything I want in neat little package of unquestionable desire…, and everything I am compelled to be repelled for - Love, Sex, Lust Greed, the avarices of the guilty and the human.

On one hand I want to feel your body pulsating vibrantly against me as if you are a completion of unity that I have always wanted to know as the forbidden fruit and synergy of two united beings in mind… spirit… and most of all…… flesh
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365 days in a year
24 hours in a day
60 minutes in an hour
60 second in a minute
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Mornings are my adversary
their obtrusively obnoxious, opportunist
they creep their rays, uninvited
and unannounced
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Here's a prayer to the freaks, the geeks and the outcasts
You diamond pariahs, and unwashed gems
You who've earned a lifetime of scars
And learned to wear adolescence as your albatross
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