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Patrick H Sep 2014
In the meanest time of summer
when the sun cracks the pavement
and swelter fills your lungs
a call to the dispossessed is in order.
Consider the river washers,
and the alley dwellers
who are simply thankful for today.
Chew on a bitter piece of perspective
and ask yourself;
if you had to carry a cross to your own death
would you complain about the heat?
Patrick H Aug 2014
Bring me your fear and your failures,
I’ll wrap them in coarse linen
and hide them under the bed.  

Bring me your insanity,
I’ll trap it in a cage and drown it in the river.  

Bring me your nightmares
I’ll douse them in kerosene and build a bonfire
for you and I

We can warm ourselves by the flames
Imbued by the light of the sunset
and the rustle of dry of paper.
Patrick H Aug 2014
I couldn't begin to repair
His broken wing.

Born of the bluest of blue skies
Soaked in kerosene, sitting on tinder

his intentions have fallen
to a blanket, fettered with

pine bark, rotting leaves,
rich soil and dark magic.

His tiny heart, as small as a poppy
seed beats faster than a  drum

His tiny form yearns to catch the breeze
to the nectar of the next Trumpet Creeper.
Patrick H Aug 2014
Your luscious, languid, lips
Feather down my torso.
Unbuckled, unbridled
My pride awaits your touch
And your power to release
My explosive love for you.
Patrick H Aug 2014
Over river Seine.
Blue buildings silhouette
Cast behind. I could almost cross
Over and smell the cafes
If only it wasn’t
A hanging.
Patrick H Aug 2014
Smoke and butyl nitrate
burn the membrane of your nostrils.
Unzipped trousers down
the crush of leather at your feet
spilling your anger and your desire
on the stranger knelt before you  
trying hard to remember to forget all of this.
Reveling in the conquest
while feeling strangely unsatisfied.
Patrick H Aug 2014
Firm, ripe, temptation red,  
the pale green-yellow flesh
floods my mouth
with Sweet juice and the sting of tartness
like a gift from a serpent
I know I should be ashamed
but I have been bitten.
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