Patrick's Poetry

A crooked smile, black dress and black eyeliner
girl you just don’t know where you belong
let me show you the road, the worn out well taken path
where we walk all tall and mighty
where we all talk like we’re pure royalty
where we all stalk along behind them, yeah, you and me
let me show you the hall of mirrors, ten dollar entrance fee
don’t know what you could be buying
but it tastes like… well pure beauty
the mirrors will melt away your shell so we see what lies beneath
beneath the precious skin and bones
but the colors just won’t stay the same seven new colors and tones
indescribable
we’ll re-invent the wheel and the english language
solve world hunger while hungover
girl just let me show you to the postman
lick your stamps
time to go.

-Aug 04, 2008

And if I can’t see you, can’t be with you
Then I’ll just sleep here now forever
And if I don’t awaken
I’ll dream, about nothing else, only you
But still I won’t remember
The days that never happened
So I’ll lie awake here now forever
‘Til I can see you, and we can sleep together.

While the sickness spreads
our hands extend
and grab each others arms
then like garden gnomes upon the lawn
we sit and watch the rising dawn
when sun rays meet our porcelain heads
we turn and break the clay-made bonds
our lips then touch and they do brush aside
all frozen thoughts and sentiments from our small adobe heads
but just as fast as it begun
darkness spread and hid the sun

our clay-made bonds attach again.

- Mar 03, 2009

With the King and Queen driving the bus
The Jester and I were free to make our jokes
about your tentatively placed dress
but the Joker was right when he whipped out his knife
and said “You made a bad choice by shooting me.”

With the cross(hairs) on your heart
I’ll fire away
needles, daggers, and a card each day
52 exactly, since i last heard you say
“Hit me.”

Spin the velvet around and fire away
with a one in six chance to die
I no longer need to lie.

-Jul 26, 2008

Gone semi-pyschotic
while listening to some sort of melodic
symphony sort of song
trying to figure out
where that wall does belong
in front or behind?

three-hundred and sixty degree vision traded, prevents
for my nose, me from smelling all the scents
coming from, but now you’re leaving me behind
the perfume on your skin, anyway, i don’t know if i’ll find
the way from here

semi-psychotic, your voice is so melodic
sounds, almost symphonic
with the echoes of my thoughts on the walls
but your ears are closed for the night
last call for alcohol, you kids
get out of the hall!

-Jul 10, 2008

these words won’t flow
as nice as your dress
on the stripper pole
but I’ll write this mess
anyway.

it feels like I’m reaching for the horizon
cause you’re a thousand miles away
can’t count a single day
that your voice doesn’t echo and say
something i can’t hear, cause of the waves
crashing against the bay
it feels like I’m reaching for the horizon
cause you’re the whore I’ve got my eyes on

butterflies in your stomach scream
when you vomit on your shirt
a mess of black and yellow
silhouetted on the conversation you just ended
with your subtle drunken mistake

cat’s eye green, in your ears
making all of what i call fears
seem quite pretty, in disguise.

an overexposed photo
hides the underexposed feelings
of the girl next to me
I guess we shouldn’t trust these color copies
let’s steal our money from the machine
and take some black and white photographs
where businessmen see their suits on display
with their back to the black wall
where their daughters are hiding, just biding their time
until they can come out
and play.

-Jun 16, 2008

hey there
slip a milligram inside to induce a smile
i said hey there
hazy predictions of the minutes passing by
tell your heart to slow
it’s beating
too quickly
hey there
let’s go for a ride, celebrate creation
we’ll take it upon ourselves to study the movement of the world
and we’ll sit perfectly still
and watch the bleeding sky pulsate around the sun.

-Mar 11, 2008