Kevin Patrick Poems

Once upon a time I went fishing for the moon
But I learned you had to dig for it with a silver spoon
A patent platinum pickax and a chartered gold balloon
Always slipping one small step from reaching purple noon
...

The mailbox is brimming
with letters
flooding the floor
with junk mail and bills
...

To get to the moon, you walk across the room
Burn thrusters slowly, so your momentum is saved
And if you want to get to Mars,
Nimbly plan your next course
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A soulless ambience permeates the air
Mechanically reducing the spirits subtext
Into a droning limbless catatonic basin
Dissecting the rules of rhythmic conscious
...

A Siege of silence stirred, beneath the kitchens verge
As Morning traced through windows, rays of burning gold
On a wall a cat clock grinned, sweating nervous ticks
Pounding fatal drumbeats as dry tension gently explodes
...

There's a piper playing on the moon
wobbling through a senseless tune
His minds a mists of nebulous ditties
A shattered wreck of wandering gypsies
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Dreams are the sweet realms
between life and death
and that final voyage
when we meet our last breath
...

Kindness is a currency
That is always more worthy
Then all the weight of gold
In all the world combined
...

Winters winds chime ancestral wails
and glide auretic melodies
That swail the earth in whitewash gales
And cling the foam of memories
...

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Never is there love,
Unless there is an inner faith
For faith admits our pain
...