"céad mile failte"
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Poetry

Along with my poetry I'm putting up the key thing that inspires any and everything I believe. Mostly as a form of explanation.



Lookin' Round

As the worlds spin
Twirlin' in their orbits
Wirlin' round their balls of gas
Swirlin' in their elequent dance
Lit only by strobe lights
We go amongst our fights

Blowing each other way
Each and every day
Leaders on giants shoulders
Like crushing flowers
Stealing candy from babies
Just to feed it to Hades

We go amongst our fights
Our day lit with bomb flare
Enough for Ghangis to have a scare
Up and down our planes soar
Much like the price of a whore
Enough to make the brothers cry to the core

Survival is loosing its lights

All of this and I'm still asked of God
Sodom and Gamorah
His cities of sins and ash
Are our cities of grins and cash
'Nough said


Goin' Back To Basics

When lovers come together
Fate cannot deny
One will touch the other
Touches grow in pantomime
Escalating to sweet stupidity
Then deprecating to fortifying fem-masculinity
For lovers love
Its what they do
I know, for I have loved
The problem here inlies
That I am no longer a lover
For I have grown wise
Diverging from stupidity
Has long held my gazing
But my grasp withheld
Until now
Alas for
I lay ponderously befuddled by the amazing
Grazing among beauty long denied
fluttering butterflies go by
like hopeful thoughts they soar
Gravity will never deny
One so brightly orange
I find it hard to see its path
lovers quarrels I have persevered
I have been reared
Love turned hatred I have engineered
Like that of a musketeer
Cut the pines away
Burned the hedges
Erected iron walls of hardiness
Pulled up the roots of security
Following this wee little bug
Its brightness painting reality
I have finally seen
My family died fighting for the green
Holding the banner high
But we started with the orange
It's time to learn from the past
Time to go back to the basics
         ~Patrick Commins~

Muse of Insperation

Poets look the world over
Looking for Insperation
I am lucky
For I have found It
Some discover It in the red hues of a sunrise
For Insperation
Has the fruitfull color strawberries
And glitering golds in It's lockes
Some run their hands though the pale soft sands
For Insperation
is uniquely pale, showing the beauty
And Its skin softer than the water swept beaches
Others find It by gazing into the earths soil
Of course they do,
For Insperation's mere gaze
Is infinatly deep as the earth itself
And ever so warm and welcoming
A rare few find It looking at the horizon over the ocean
For Insperation
Has a relaxingly intoxicating smell
and goregously slight curves along all of its eadges
All poets spend their life looking for Insperation
But I am lucky
For I have found You


Gasous "Truth"

I walk down a sunny street with my friends
Puffing on a cig
As we walk, talk and laugh at life
Someone asks me a question
I take a drag of the cancer stick
Smoke enters my lungs
Leaving in a thick vapor around me
The grey white smoke surrounds me
Clouding what I say with a caugh
Clouding what people see
When they look at me
Posioning me and those near
light barely penetrates this nicotonic smoke
When the wind blows
People can see me again
Hear me again
Just long enough for a few more puffs
To rebuild the screen of grey and white
People say nicotine is the most addictive substance on Earth
I say
Its the smoke you build up around yourself
Its time to quit and walk out of the haze
Seeing the light of day once again
The dark of night all over again
Seeing me for tic-tacs
After four years
Letting them burn in the noxious gas
Can my eyes still see?


Flock

Through the night
A flock sleeps
Caring not of the morn'
Dreaming merily
One awakes
Definitive uncertenty fills its mind
It calls out
The others crawl up from their dreams
Its cry bubbles
Gargling like water
Instinct fills the others
Break
Run
Gone
The sun wins the fight of night
Birds sing the song of victory
Light streams across the field
The flock returns to feed
Seeing red over green
Carrion reeking the dew
They go amongst their thoughtless grazing
Going around the black blood stained wool


To Get To The Truth

These fucked up
Damned "demons"
they war over your perceptions
Down to the useless
Unnoticeable
Untraceable
Making numbness a cruel normality
They specialize in certain tools
Lobbyists
Statistical Scramblers
Media CONTROL
Breeding of discrimination
Turning a blind eye
They have a cluster fuck more
ready to throw at you
tick
tock
They do this for profit
"Glory"
Undercover power
They call themselves
The Federal Government of the United States of America
United?
Unfortunately
Totally
                   ~Patrick Commins~

My older poetry is in my diary.

One of the best poems ever written! When it comes to the use of language. I would love to have a discussion of what it means. It is a very long poem so I'm only posting the first 32 lines out of 217 total and six to seven stanzas.