Patrick Dumas (August 1,1985 / Milford, CT)
Biography of Patrick Dumas
Patrick Dumas Poems
Ice cycles hung from my nose hands were stuck to my gun; froze. All alone in a storm of white couldn't tell day from night.
Autumn comes back around and all the leaves fall to the ground. The air turns cold but the sky’s still blue. Will you fall to me as I fall to you?
The Burning Sun
The Burning Sun came rising- it rose into the sky. I sat and smoked the herbs as the birds began to fly.
Free River flow, Free River so cold, Free River you’re getting old.
The Death Of The Ball Turret Gunner
This is one of my favorite poems by Randall Jarrell and one of my favorite poems. Analyze it line for line and read it many times over to understand each lines meaning.. From my mother's sleep I fell into the state And I hunched in its belly till my wet fur froze
Birth In The Desert, Death At Sea
Though it is high noon, the moon hangs in the sky opposite the sun. He sits on the periphery
“We need to talk, ” she said on the phone. The sun was going down, trees a silhouette giving way to darkening sky.
Open Your Eyes
I looked in her eyes, and breathed in her feel We've come here again, 'cause time is a wheel The snow on the ground is warming my heart
Back To The Start
This food in my mouth, it's making it dry. I looked at the ground, and fell through the sky. All of these days, are passing me by- The crowds in the street, are playing their part
The Burning Dream
I awoke in a dream with pure consciousness, and took a walk down to the stream of loneliness. There was a woman there with scarlet fire hair,
Goodnight, let dreams latch on to your dream catcher and vision new worlds and places where unfamiliar faces are not astray.
A Gypsy Peers Through Her Crystal Ball
A gypsy peers through her crystal ball. As I watch the seasons change through my wall. The wizard pondering wisdom gazes as the fire blazes; burning hot. A sorcerer reveals what shall be; and what shall not.
Loneliness lingers in the cemetery naked as the tomb stones. When she left she didn’t even say good bye.
Holding a train rail is like loving you- I hold you so tight, you shake me through. I know the train’s comin’, but know not when I’ll hold on to the rail until then.
Mother To Son
Well, son, I'll tell you;
Life for me ain't been no crystal stair.
It's had tacks in it,
And boards torn up,
And places with no carpet on the floor-
But all the time
I'se been a-climbin' on,