Long Patrick Poems
Long Patrick Poems. Below are the most popular long Patrick by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Patrick poems by poem length and keyword.
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I have a few friends called Instrument of jah
a reggae sound system that`s gonna go far
we got Santa,Patrick and lastly big Con
am telling you now, they are second to none
Been on the scene just a short while
burning up many a mile
potential of being quite a star
rubbed shoulders with the best drum and guitar
Doing all gigs from local to national
venues in paris and parking rational ;)
just everyday lads from the estates
doing their stuff and getting a break
IT`S NO SHOCK TO ME THAT THEY GOT THIS FAR
BECAUSE WHAT I HAVE SEEN THEY HAVN`T HIT PAR.. BLESS UP
I Love you Kami.
You are great.
For 17 years I have been in Love with you.
Here's to another 17 years.
You are so wonderful to be my friend for so long.
known you longer than everyone except Jamil but he is like an older brother.
I think of you as my best friend.
I could not live without you.
Every day I learn new things about you.
You are so special to me my Kami.
When you called me baby I was worried it meant you were going to leave again.
I feel so connected to you and Jesus like we are family.
I think of you as my beloved but I know you might not feel the same about me.
I will love you as long as I live and even though there is an ocean between Us I love you forever.
Thank you Kami for being my best friend even if it is a secret.
I pray to Jesus about you every day that he blesses you and keeps you protected and loved.
knowing that all I can do is Pray makes me pray even more with Trust in Jesus to hear me and for him to Look after you. I believe the rapture is Soon and we will go home soon we will be together Love.
Love you so much your Best friend forever Patrick ORourke Peace to Czechia home of my Love.
A Shining Star
I saw you from afar like a star silently hanging in the onyx blue midnight sky, up high out of reach shining light, distant yet bright subtle warmth, a fire in winters time.
Silken hair velvety smooth sating skin, you walk in front and beside like a cloud gliding across ice on a lake touched by icy tendrils we cannot see.
Lips red and sweet as just picked berries yet the taste once kissed like candy floss melts so gently to a sweet sugary memory.
Achingly you take over as the senses whirl, little fairies dance on cells as you embrace with your perfume smell.
No words spoken rest on my shoulder, 1 finger 2 3 4 you take a hand no question asked for none was ever needed.
Souls encased in friendship rings heading out with no care just the blissful moment both share.
By
Patrick D
hunting the Rue Saint-Honoré
leaves me no breath
when women brawl for fashion
with warrants of gold
we become lions
every eye looks
taking hunter's aim
in piteous chase
the hares we hunt
are the new, the hot, the exclusive
not the lower marked
cry havoc
for animals heave fewer groans
only wars, revolt and poisons
attend more frightful chaos
one could come to hurt
but fault no villains
that is not our hunting language
we are confederates in chase
seeking the swaggers of success
.
.
A song for this:
Baby You're a Superstar by Mark Roberts, Paul Fletcher, Patrick Sturrock, Emily Taylor & Dan Whitfield
"Moonspinner Seer"
Moments we dance
you and I
alone
sensing
all the words
gone
soul naked
we spin
sad worlds away
bad spells
in a small ocean
buried, never forgotten
casting pearls
luminescent
into the trapping net
ghosts in the
gloaming glistening
unravelling
unseen,
they are now
listening
reeling
them
in
delicately
undressed by
moonspinner mind
inside
haunting
all
the reasons
curl around
an unclaimed
why
that never logically rhymes
with the metronome
beating heart on fire
caught up in tears
messages clear
as diamonds
dripping beneath
the skin
keys adorning
eternal
violins rising
signing
rosy smiles
over naked bodies
of work
some kind of ark
built secure,
unblessed
marked,
sealed,
water tight
yet still
punishment watching
finds a way, breaks free
diving sensually
back into the
never-ending
answers found
in close and lost
embrace
spiralling notes
bathing, graze
slender necks
waltzing
against
Wintersong’s lips
secrets
whispered
sensual tears
pool along
a tattooed tongue
the salt stings
what's cut
in the forgotten
bittersweet
what exists
underneath
the skin emerges
finally sings meaning
truth,
the beauty of it,
plain
and simple,
in unheard codes
the romance of it all
tasted like honey
for a while
tearing up
the torn
wanton soul
signalling in
the other
like a mirror reflects
a different, clearer
kind of understanding,
turns and genuflects
the mystery
hides
its answers
what matters
is discovered
eventually
pressed
between pages
like wild summer flowers
love sits
together
with the keys
notes
read red
revealed
a beautiful
unseen
decadence
future soon
sears
past tense
eventually
love
sits with all
the keys
singing in tune
the mystery
Moonspinner
Seer
(LadyLabyrinth/ 2022)
“Je te laisserai des mots” / Patrick Watson 1h with rain
https://youtu.be/eIsG4u22D7s
The greatest holiday gift I ever received
Goes back so many, many years
Before my life became turmoiled
And before my tears for fears
I was a child like many out there
Torn, strewn and split of kin
Mother and father in differences
Confused at seven, wearing their same skin
For I was one of the lucky ones
To a Highland Estate I would go
It's on the west coast of Scotland
Where my holidays desired me so
Secretly I internally smiled
For a whisper of where I was heading
To live with a movie star hero
No longer my life was in dreading
We were picked up by a man so fine
His manners were an absolute joy
Regimental he was in his approach
To me, just a seven year old boy
We travelled through the village of Plockton
Crystal clear waters edged to it's shore
I knew from this very moment
Being here ebbed previous family sores
On entering his house I was in awe
Movie pictures came to my view
They were images of James Bond
At seven I was totally through
A voice called to me
Hey James! sit down and I'll tell you me
Still in circles in walking awe
This is what he told thee
My name is Patrick Dalzel Job
In the Second World War I served
But this recognition I bestow
Humbles me to it's deserve
This honour that's been given
Was blessed by a colleague in war
What desired Ian Fleming to be so striven
Possibly, what we were fighting for
We served on the same destroyer
Fighting to make the future free
His tribute, in his novels I became
James Bond, it's incredibly me
Not many seven year olds have stayed with James Bond.
This seven year old Scot's boy has, maybe I learnt?
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Patrick_Dalzel-Job
Get me inside quickly and as fast as you can,
please turn the time travel dial to September 1963
Get me to a post office in Washington, D.C.,
so I can send an important letter to Jacque Kennedy.
The letter will tell her about her premature son, Patrick,
I will give her his four pound birth weight.
To prove I know what I am talking about,
I will tell her about my time travel, and warn her of the fate
And that her husband, President John F. Kennedy
is in grave danger, and that on November 23rd, 1963,
If she lets him go to Dallas and ride in an open limousine,
he will be assassinated at her knee.
Trip number two, will bring me to February 1968,
but I will stay in the same post office. Here is the thing.
I will write a detailed letter to Coretta Scott King,
warning her about the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King.
To prove that I am reliable I will tell her that January 30th,
1956 is the day that a bomb
will go off on her porch, but it will not hurt anyone.
After a little sandwich, and a drink in a cold fountain,
I will now dial up August 14th, 1969, and head to Catskill Mountain,
It will be splendid to be the first to arrive,
At Woodstock, a day ahead of the crowd
of 400,000, now I am feeling truly alive.
I will be civil, not puffed up or proud.
I will spend three glorious days enjoying the music here,
marvel at the hip-hugger bell-bottoms, and dear
black and white dairy cows, staying clear
of the braless women and the minds that are a bit unclear.
My last trip is easy. I will return to two days ago,
and from breakfast re-do that entire day.
I was pretty mean to my husband,
and I would like to stop myself from acting that way.
Autumn’s Song
Bushy red and grey fluffy tail's scampering through mellow brown fallen leaves, looking for the wind coated nut's fallen from partly bare oak and elm once warm kissed tree's.
Hedgehogs find their ready-made burrows, prepared snugly for the time to safely sleep the cold away.
Morning sky silver grey look down upon once green fields and meadows, of purple coloured heaths, corn swaying waiting in the breeze, foxes and badgers sniff the air and know that time of year draws ever near.
Straw piled neatly so cow's and sheep have food to eat, when all the land is laid bare, pumpkins picked and soon will wear the smile of all hallowed fare.
Woollen hat's battle with the waning summer heat, bright sun glistens off rain swept street's, breezes that once made you glad now make you shiver, and notice song birds that once woke you up are now so silent on the air.
Sparrow's and swallow's that filled open sky, sun orange golden red the dusk evening glow lit like a theatre show now are gone, magpies their places fill and soon the red chested one's on fence's sit.
Spring and summer have now passed us by , days grow shorter as nights dark hand grow's ever long, say hello to Autumn's song.
By
Patrick D
Written By: D. Collins 11/21/22
Magic Patrick
Magic Patrick can pull a rabbit from a hat.
No matter how far down, he always comes back.
Running up the field with a pivot and a pirouette.
Or scramble for an hour creating total unrest.
Slinging the ball around like he was shooting pool.
Posterizing players and taking them to school.
It started day one when he first came in.
That octane motor has been running ever since.
He throws side-armed, underhanded, and even with a jump.
And, when that doesn't work, he'll take off and run.
There must be consensus and a decision made.
That Magic Patrick has raised the level three grades.
One Day You Will Be Mine
My heart broke when the door closed; the sound of the click broke me in a thousand little pieces smaller than a grain of sand.
Never did no wrong but was chipped at till I could no longer stay,
saw the present future and past rolled into a single day and headed away.
Saw the future clearer than a fairground charlatan predicting the future, but did not quit fought all the signs.
Took all the arrows for I was man enough and my love was strong to help me go day to day, at night silent cries so she could not hear but the wounds just grew.
I wanted what I never had but instead received all that I knew, pain in slights stabs by little words from nowhere with no course said with a smile from one who claimed to love just me.
Lost at sea with no hope of rescue, finally hope gave up before heart gave in, left that place with nothing to show for the struggle.
Dreams all spent like money used up no chance of a comeback, boy to man and cried like a new born soul and body empty.
What can one do, keep fighting with no win or peace in sight, played the game left with head held up high while cast as the bad guy.
Love may be fleeting but hurting, tears burning storm clouds, tsunami rolling over and over, waves crashing upon the shore of a helpless broken body.
Dreams of starting love again, to be held by one who knows my name both in light of day and snuggled by comfort of night.
I head into another day same as the last, whisper wings like webs entwined one day knowing it will be mine.
By
Patrick D
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