Patrick VincentBrown

Patrick VincentBrown Poems

Allow me please to get lost in your hair.
I promise you won't even know I am there

Lest you think you might like to play coy,
...

I sat with a small child on my knee who
Rode my knee like a rider who knew not
Yet the importance of how she must trust
The horse.
...

Tell them I have departed at dusk,
Gone to where a dying vermilion
Orb knows not my name but will know
When I have written it in the
...

With the airy grace and utter aplomb
Of a sunset alighting,
An insect came to descend upon my arm.
I was not as startled as I might have been
...

I. At Night
The moon sits bright in an eastern sky.
The moon is in the sky. Projecting
Cold, clear beams, she eyes in objective
...

I raise a wine combed glass to a dangerous height
And she takes a resolute but careless bite
Of her bread with brie and drip-laced honey.
I hold it heaven-high so as to toast the sight
...

Just another early morning walk past
Suburban yawning houses
No different than the morning last.
Each house with sleepy pride announces
...

Wrap your arms around and crown my head
As a memory might with the self, sought deep,
For thoughts felt near, like the precious bed
That, unlike love, lies here within our reach.
...

Roofed by Japanese temples and
Artificial light we stood. No rising

Sun from the east here. Rather from the east
...

One day I was stopped by a man. He
Had the face of a Mexican bandit;
Brown as tequila and as round as a
Clock. Or maybe he was an Andean
...

The Best Poem Of Patrick VincentBrown

The Geography Of Love

Allow me please to get lost in your hair.
I promise you won't even know I am there

Lest you think you might like to play coy,
Then I'll swing from a strand like a casual toy.

If you can, don't let me get lost in your eyes.
Or I'll lock myself in while the world around lies.

Held captive, I might not get where I want
And the lay of the land will tease at and taunt.

For I must scale in time those highest of peaks
Where weighty breaths sound a yodeling speech.

From there I'll come down the mountain with care
Where the stretches of heath lay boundless and bare.

I'll stay for a while on the flattened expanse
Where softer breaths swirl in much plainer dance.

God! Give me consent to your yawning thighs!
Where I'll open that cave with lurid-like sighs!

Then let me please go where no one can pass.
With tongue, like a blade, I'll mow down the grass.

The permission you give to enter your lair
Is heavenly sent and utterly fair

Though some say this is a descension to hell.
The riddle though is if I walked or I fell.

Yet if this is the way, I haven't been told.
All I will say is I've mapped my own road.

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