Kevin Patrick Poems

Another damaged misfit, another little girl
Who wrote a letter saying 'goodbye you old cruel world
She had enough of living, without a sign of hope
And now she's going sliding, down the end of rope
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Beauties ugliness
is times growing divide
Every spring's may flower
Becomes a Locus of pride
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The path is free, the road is not
So take with care the way you cross
The bends are sharp at each ways mark
But let the four winds guide your heart
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Softly wicked Auntie Barbara
Made malarkey at all hours
Dodging ribbons of tradition
She was born to ride right off her rocker
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This venerated Stimulant
Stoutly Potent to the vascular system
Encourages a benign dependence
For junkies of the professional persuasion:
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In one second of a life reflecting
From a moment that’s been left in a loft
I remember meeting an astronomer
While visiting the seascapes of Denmark
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Hazy whiffs of sun drops cross the trees
Casting spells with fostered candlelight
Beneath a dew of green, submersed and submarine
I held a girl whose lips were red as sight
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Midnight strikes: and the drawing din emits
an embryonic thunder, strolling momentarily
in the emaciated coppice in the bleached north end and flickers with the heartbeat of an earthquakes engine Lugging forwards freight cars and passenger carriages That arrive and embark in the blink of an auricle And I sit and listen with bedsores for jetlag
With only the haunting reframe of a memory
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Roll up your scratched bronze copper mints
and conceal them tight in pirate’s trunk
there'll be no more shuttling for any brass zinc
in the great white north where they’ve been furloughed
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Politics is the science of Hypocrisy
Manipulating diplomacy and megalomaniac sycophancy
Chasing after the breadcrumbs of power
Like pigeons amassing around pensioners
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