An Old Women's Wisdom (To my grandmother)
An Old Womans wisdom
Is the spilt milk of reason
Ornamental curled voice
Of a flea market mystic
Like crows on a wire
Tanned with old withered leather
They regale their last days
Sitting crouched on their porches
Dissecting the remains
Of the youth the despise
With Benevolent respects
For pneumatic emphasis
Handing out sage oppinion
That has low wage credentials
One could learn from quick thinking
Without falling from lifes tree
In the parlor of their kitchens
They will pass myriad stories
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poem by Kevin Patrick
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Problems
I have problems, and you have problems
Let's make problems with our problems
When I'm the problem you're the problem
But we know where the problem for one another
I start my day by any other way
Looking under my bed for the metallic crate
Encrypted with a steel isomorphic key
Projecting documents enveloped with two words
"Today's problems"
When I have no problems I make more problems
To entwine the world with inventive problems
What would we do if we did not have problems?
Neglect our security for hypothesizing new problems
Problems, Problems, Problems
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poem by Kevin Patrick
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Too Be Perfectly Canadian
We are perfectly English
In our cultural Blood
Grooming out our nature
To behave as a Statue
While Pigeons build bathrooms
On our Bronze plated Shoulders
We are French in our faith
Changing mindsets at will
Rebelling when it's noble
Like an activists actor
Selling fashionable discourses
In the new springs doctrines
We are Black sheep 6 nations
The brothers' long forgotten
Locked faraway from view
In the special Childs room
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poem by Kevin Patrick
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I eat peanut butter
I eat peanut butter from a jar
Sitting quitly naked at the bar
Wired in frankincense and cheap olive oil
You can never spot where Ive hidden my old boil
I eat peanut butter with a spoon
Hanging on a telophone from the moon
Looking everywhere for the third rock in my drawer
cause I'm followed by the elaphant whose getting rather cold
I taste peanut butter with marmalade
Its sutured with nectrines with astringent taste
Surrounded by a gang of malefactent tea cups
Coming from Buenos Aries on the back of maple syrup
want to ride the posse of little bitty irishmen?
I lick peanut butter from outerspace
I was born southside so it goes to my waist
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poem by Kevin Patrick
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Sadness = Happines :)) :
Frowns are just grimace sitting upside down
Angst an erotic name for boredom in motion
The abyss is the cabin were the soul will conspire
To rave in a daze, of dance of misfit rage.
You scream in your mind for someone to hear
but all you get back is static feedback
Your internally bursting, on a private frequency
That Nobody pays to witness your seething.
Slave to fear and master of deceit
Enchanted to the chains of your own misanthropy
Hopeless romantic for cynical deprivations
You know only pleasure of self-abnegation
Van goh is your idle but you lack his impression
Nietzsche is your god, and your just his ghost
Sartre you devour as an idol to rule your apathy
You like to have the lead to the role of self-defeat
But you’re an amateur nihilist
without motive to nothingness.
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poem by Kevin Patrick
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Black, White and Grey
Tell me life is black and white
That there's a wrong and there's a right
Where good men never rot in graves
And villains always change their ways
Show me that there is some cause
Some just material from cosmic laws
Descending from determined hands
That there really was a master plan
So I tie my mouth around a stone
And sit with ease of caged angels
Looking patient with strong virtue
While wishing vengeance with a cudgel
A person's truth is another's crime
Our best relations come through lies
Were locked behind doors with holes
Peering through imagined glances
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poem by Kevin Patrick
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Ode To A Kitty Cat (Whose Name Is Tinker)
Against daily tides of the worlds pitiless faces
Which tribal afflictions divide brothers to strangers
The most affectionate loves are from those bundles of furs
Which reverberate sweet melodies through their whiskers and purrs
Coiffure our body with their warm coats of tender conquest
Issuing preeminence with outstretched paws on our stomachs
I know the childhood innocence in a love that's not spoiled
To Machiavellian insidiousness and duplicitous liaisons
For domicile companionship beings a virtue that's absent
From the homo sapiens détentes of misfiled connections
And when loneliness announces its uninvited presence
Filling our brains drawers with hampered customs of dejection
My little Tinker comes to make her thrown upon my body
Spreading forgotten smiles as her tail wags like it's her hobby
as I brush my fingers against her mane I know devotion which is foreign
And as I feel the bristles of her trestles and I know I'm never lonely.
A pets love is forever and never diverted of human currents
poem by Kevin Patrick
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Milfay
Aromas cajoled with a sucrose frost
Hypnotize my nostrils with salivating gust
As I rush to entrapment of my hearts first love
Intertwined in the string that's my Pandora's Box
Unwrapping the knots as my inpatient tongue
Satiates my lips for that gifted baker's dozen
Salubrious excitement at the content within
The marvel of design for elegant that's Victorian
Behold to my sight such sumptuous substance
Decked in fine tigers frost glistening- but not melting
I gently extract and inspect her circumference body
To consume every layer for my mouths private study
First its whip cream- angelic coat and fine color
Then lustrous custard with more textured pallor
It proves that my taste buds mature when I'm older
For my preference is bitter and not vanilla that's sweeter
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poem by Kevin Patrick
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4 Against 1
4 against 1, the birth of a cynic
Enterprising through the laughter of the revolting pontificate
For little boys are wolves while being sheep's to their parents
They saviour blood on playgrounds against those who are different
Like the witches in Salem, and the Jew at Auschwitzw
They commence genocide to an introvert conscience
4 against 1 in a line up with guns
Unwavering malice surreptitious with slackened jaws acid tongues
It's a wall of fixed derision operating in unison
All psychically linked relaying intimidating medicine
To the one who dare smiled without showing vindication
Thus beginning the long march towards arrested passions
4 against 1, it was the end of all my fun
When the grass and the trees always seemed brightly green
And there was a special excitement in the taste of ice cream
But all of that suspend upon that long day in September
Once an eight year old grew wiser to the packs of human behaviour
And became an older man all stuffed up and embittered
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poem by Kevin Patrick
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Scary Treats - Halloween Poem
The Moon is full and ominous
Conspiring spectrums in the mist
With terrors mortals should not know
Catastrophes within the soul
Tarantulas the size of hounds
Creep and crawl on window silhouettes
Their hairy bodies cling to pangs
Waiting to eat you with their fangs
Green Witches read their almanacs
Enchanting riddled vulgar tongues
Cauldrons boil evil potions
Frogs and crows with one eye sockets
A piper hymens a devils tune
Inside the shadows of the woods
Where pyres burn of pagan rites
Draw rings around the whicker man
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poem by Kevin Patrick
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