Poems from Patrick B. Maxwell
The Weakness of the Cusp
My fat prayers, like old women waving hankied hands
through the sign of the cross.
Measured too full, my faith...
Triple Point
And did You not breath life in my nostrils?
And did You not flood my being with the waters of life,
and seal my heart and...
Old Father Thunder
(a poem for children)
Old father thunder clappin' his hands,
shakin' the windows, rattlin' pots and pans.
Old...
The palace of mirrors
I walk the palace of mirrors, naked to the soul.
Reflections cause reflections, sadness follows.
My image! My...
Barefoot Queen
Barefooted She walks the palace where her son is King.
Queen Mother, whose crown is humility.
Her tears, the tiles on...