Daises Grow From Hell Poem by Kevin Patrick

They loiter the surface in reverse osmosis
but their vertical corpses are hanging in ditches
moving downwards when their rent day is due
With their Hellespont visa bought on diplomatic truce
There the victims of summers promotional esquire
Torpedoed into verdigris when their beauty dates expired
Like spit from used condemns the ocean throws up
Segregated to red sands with the fortune of a hobo's lick

For deep underground in the antechambers of an inferno
Above the smokestacks of the hemostat craters
Do they bloom in the billions of vermilion legions?
Like wasps sugar coated conjugating in their billions
With a fragrance that's pleasing to a pyromaniac flow
Or the in-rushing secretions of an inflammable snow
Swim shivering with tension in the acid heat of coal
Reproducing brimstone under a lava's flowing ulcer

Because Daisies grow from hell

Their white petal gritters with fixed elongated britches
acting as foot secret agents with vibrant decked stitches
They beguile coy smiles from subversive dominion
When they stretch out in throngs randomly in city parks
They train their X-Ray detectors in their canary antennas
Capturing the reflection in the third eye of their mind
Revealing telepathically the secrets you can never hide
The mistresses of bankers and the cover-ups of doctors

And every year more bloom to be charcoals new beau
Little seeds turn to kernels after continuous harangue
Their pressurized in strychnine when their buds begin to dent
Always pimping out their freshness when bitterness ferments
In the Inseminating temperatures that howl death of Fahrenheit
Electroshock fresh petals that are rape food for the inner light
Doing anything to escape the inflammation of curricular mucous
From returning to the void in the heritage they despise

Because Daisies grow in Hell

They are white as the bones from the corpses they pick
An offense on the sediment of the calcium they nick
Hanged out in July as a release from their lessons
Grave robbing ornaments that counterfeit first impressions
In blind fields they grow as lithe toddlers in the wind
Looking willfully mundane where heavy feet tend to tread
And brush against so carefully not to damage their heads
When they telepathically relay the secrets to Satans kin

Soon you'll wake to a nightmare, to find yourself in squalor
With little fleshy cameras that are born to be your jailers
Tentacles in green vines stretch across and turn you lime
In atrophied damnation of the slow decent of judgments fines
Secreted in the asphalt inside the line of Corinth stocks
Born to be recycled you can see it in their withered cups
With pink and yellow luster warmed by burning orphans
Their not so beautiful when you dig beneath the surface
And find their lethal cravings is your life's only purpose

Because Daisies grow in Hell


They always return to the place they despise
Down A rat's alley east end, where Himmler is revised
And they fester on the pillars for a way to escape
Fixing their talons down the rock pillar Drapes
With their lecherous roots that pray on the roof
Like the fingers of thief's that mulch at their loot
Creeping as the tide climbs higher to the surface
They spread out in clusters of defecting orgies
and give venereal affections to stamens erections
Subduing to complacency of an ax men's election
With the contagious vexation of homicidal frustrations
They grow where shattered bodies are their bedrocks
Damaged eggshells that cry when they are deaf

And in the end of the day if it rains on your parade
It will all cease to matter when your headfirst in the grave


For daisies grow from hell...
and they'll soon grow onto me and you