Kevin Patrick Poems

The first buds...
Of Teenage love
Are as sweet as bliss
And the ambrosia of spring
...

It's the space
between the silence
That holds
the quiet violence
...

nights are moving in as the sun is working
Part time
And Leafs are graduating onto earth's private domain
Summers in the attic and winters knocking at the door
...

Before you see, or start to speak
All nations demand their fresh meat
They'll graze you in coop called school
and program you as loyal tools
...

God save the king
And all his useless offspring
They can eat their pheasants
Like Bankrupting peasants
...

When I was a little Boy
The world seemed so young
And now that I'm slightly old
I still sing to that song
...

I eat peanut butter from a jar
Sitting quitly naked at the bar
Wired in frankincense and cheap olive oil
You can never spot where Ive hidden my old boil
...

To My Mother a forgotten Martyr
Neither listed in a textbook,
or in the passing of a scripture
But the model of parental virtue
...

I swam besides a unicorn
Inside a bowl of cereal
The bowl was tipped
And then I fell
...

Through a tall grove, by a mouse stream,
Basking on a knoll in noonday
Watching, as the sunlight drowns in green
Living in a bubble out from pain
...