Diamond Of Skin Row

Poem By Kevin Patrick

Eating crow for the diamond of skid row
I was a mosquito who dreamed to be a toad,
Probing my proboscis for raw meat of gemstones
Squirting fresh venom for a goldmine of cortisone
Our zodiacs signs met at the intersection of fate
striking in a near fatal car crash like bait
The lunch lady gave us first aid
But she could only save us with sloppy seconds
But at least we got a souvenir tray
I remember it vaguely
But then I was a tourist
And your vain lacerations
Were sharply hard to notice
You can hear the water boil
As it turns into steam
Over the tin rooftops
where street princes Sing
And know one loves a beggar
Like a filthy dog
But I still I lose the race
Even though I race alone.

Comments about Diamond Of Skin Row

There is no comment submitted by members.


Rating Card

5 out of 5
0 total ratings

Other poems of PATRICK

The Race Track Of Time

There is no point running backwards
retracing stolen footprints
in anticlockwise course
time cant reverse force

A Tale Of Winters Dream

The waxing span of the silver moon
Calls to the breeze of the winters chill
The brittle arms of the lone Birch
Lay still to the frost but are not deterred

A Rose Grows In The Night

A rose grows in the night
Lit beneath the diamond lights
Petals smooth in silken magic
Blossom crimson shaded fabric

Oceanus Wakes (A Pretentious Name From The Drop Of A Hat)

Blind is the ocean to the sound of its motion
As it roars with momentum of immeasurable melody
Ushering its whitecaps of sinuous elocution
Against the gold Shorelines with foam balm fidelity

My Garden

3 feet high, and counting parallel far and wide
My Garden grows and overflows with weeds and grass
their nimble arms crawl up my house, and neatly bind
as coats of moss knocks on my door with earthly mass

I Am Not A Poet

I am not a poet
But a linguistic Beachcomber
Scouring the pleated sandy shores
For whatever grimy grains of meaning