Nick Patrick Poems

The cave's black top clamors me forth
With its wistful pattern reaching my ears
Through lauding whispers pointing due north
Subjecting my soul to haughty leers
...

When I reflect on the power of my hands
I see not purpose but utmost pride
And admit with clarity where they subside
Palm with digits, vessels in strands
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Let not indifference become my poor state
To have sun shine through these cold dark trees
Would be a rare occurrence, almost a tease
It wavers so close, almost, and I wait
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Where is the nerve that meets muscle with bone?
The mind has divorced body and the soul is alone
Cascading through the night, an ocean of wonder
The being has been reduced by unforgiving thunder
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Animal,

To whom do you caress with such vitality,
In a land of scorn and infinite notoriety
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As the Earthy spider of decay
Buries its face in the morning wind
The damning moon has nothing to say
And the clouds to the land are pinned
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Half awake I see the future
Past slowly becoming the suture
To mend and make amends
Some guiding light, it depends
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Paralyzed in torment the body lies still
Mixing and churning the insides at will
Calculating nerves spreading necessities
Everlasting more, growing these intensities
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Hello, canoe
How do you do?
Is there something new?
I found you in two
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Lying in wait, watching the night sky
I want to move closer, I try, I try
My knees are moaning for unity
Of our spirits to join in community
...