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Patrick White
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Page 6
Patrick White
I Could Bring You A Shattered Windowpane
And This Night
Living On A Planet That Kills More People Than It Heals
I Would Speak To You In My Night Voice
Painting Native Masks All Day
House Full Of Spirits
Trying To Get Centered In The Middle Of Chaos
I Wish I Knew You Well Enough To Say
These Days, This Late At Night
And It’s Not Hard To See I’M Wandering In A Dry Abyss
Even When Life Sometimes Seems Like A Black Hole
A Vision Of Grief In The World
White Void For The Moment, Quiescent As Paper And Canvas
If You Were To Give Me Your Hands
Hidden Jewels In The Ashes Skinless As Light
The Closer To Death, The More Risks You Take In Life
Spiders In Bubbles Plumbing The Depths
Feel Lost Sometimes
Got A Boulder On My Chest Like A Heavy Heart
I Could Look At It With Sweeter Eyes
Let Go Of My Mind, Like A Kite, Like A Snake
There’s A Black Lotus In My Heart
I Don’T Want To Embroider This Straitjacket Of Killer Bees
However We Embrace It Intimately To Humanize It
Not Sitting Here Trying To Flint Knap The Splinters Of A Mirror
No Lightning From My Clouds Of Unknowing
The Silence Overtakes Me
Innocent As Gravity And It’s Raining
Gone Soon Enough
The Ironic Smile Of A Sword That’s Tasted Blood
Tempering The Carbonized Steel Of My Heart
The Fire Hydrants Look At The Chandeliers Of The Black Cherries
I Don’t Want To Have My Eyes Glazed Over Nacreously
Quarter Moon In Sagittarius At The Autumn Equinox
All These Bottles With S.O.S. Inside
When I Get To The Root Of What I Really Want
When Grief Grows Savage And There’s Nothing To Hunt
You May. You May Not Come. Maybe Tonight. Or Not
The Moon Isn’T Renewing Her Virginity
I Don’T Care If You Remember Me Or Not
How Many Ways Can You Die In A Day?
You Take The Solitude Out Of Poetry
Sometimes The Deeper I’M Lost The Happier I Feel
Always Aware Of How Unknown It All Is
Listening To The Nightsong Of The Silence
I Concede My Fretful Beginnings
Something Continental Within Me Rising
The Nuns Are Sleeping On Graves With Their Pagan Lovers
When The Spirit Moves
What’s To Keep You From Dancing?
Background Sadness. Cosmic Hiss
Living Off The Grid
Compassion Is The Sweetness That Enters
The American Flag Just Below My Studio Window
If Only I Could Remember Things For Awhile
Scouring The Patina Of Time Off With Stars
The Demonically Enlightened See Further Into Hell
When You’Ve Averaged Out Your Crucials
A Feeling In The Heart That Overwhelms Thought
Every Leaf, Every Page, Every Poem, A Patch
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