This is Home

Ash to ash,

Dust to dust,

Now I lay this body to rest,

Among stardust and forgotten ancients,

This is home,

Built of flesh,

Housed in skin,

Driven by spirit,

Powered by dreams,

Broken by pain,

Divided by creed,

Categorized by government,

This is home,


This caravan of self,

Moving along a path called life,

It has no address,

Saved by a name,

The name, my parents gave me;

And during the living moments,

This home resides in a building,

A house we equate as a home,

But true home is me,

There is no other like this,

Home for a child,

Grown old through time,

And in its twilight years,

To be surrendered to its creators,

This is home,

Some called it ugly,

Short, over weight,

Dark, light, round,

Square or long,

And maybe cute,

It has felt pain,

Felt love, tasted bitterness,

Cherish sweetness,

Been bent by sadness,

Ever changing,

Year by year,

Never the same,

A home in constant remodeling,

This is home,


This is home,

This body before you,

This person that stands before you,

This is home,

And from here to you,

Other homes,

We are caravans,

Travelling along this road,

We call life, we are home.


There was that Moment.

There was that Moment.
by Maclean Patrick

There was that moment,
A minute captured in a second,
A breath bottled in a thought,
A light that formed a beacon,

It was that moment,
A step in between the strides,
A glance in a gap between the smiles,
The one you could not hide,

Then it was that moment,
A word caught in phrase,
Among saying and forgetting,
Spoken to leave lovers in a daze,

There was that moment,
Where dreams were more reality,
A moment beyond a touch,
And love was never a fantasy.

Words to the Reaper

Words to the Reaper
by Maclean Patrick

Death is a friend,
He leans over when I stood alone,
That time at the beach, looking out to sea,
“Do you see the sunset?” Death asked;

“It’s the same everyday,” I replied,
Death smiled and placed a hand on my shoulder,
Death smiles, a smile like that on a kabuki mask;

“You’re too depressive,” Death points out,
“The sun will set each day, the sun will rise,”
“You may see it, you may not,”
“But every sunset is different, every time;”

Look who’s talking, I entertain the thought;
“Easy for you to say. You’re not worried about dying,”
“True,” Death remarks, “Depends which side you stand on the line.”

“The line of life or death.”
“Why is that important?”
“Where you stand will determine how you live.”

Death rubs my back,
It’s an icy touch yet sublimely warm,
“Choose how you want to live, to live to die or die to live?”
“My friend, you can always choose what you need to believe…”

Poem : That place in my heart

That Place in My Heart
by Maclean Patrick

Can’t say I did not try,
Don’t say I did not fight,
Holding on for more than too long,
I held on too tight,

Sunset came and the moon came up,
Time passed and moved away,
But today feels like yesterday,
In the moment; there’s where I stay,

That place in my heart,
It remains unchanged,
A corner untouched by fade’s lust hand,
Where love remains unstained,

That place in my heart,
Where I remember you still,
With the smile you gave before your left,
A promise to hold on ’till…

Poem: A cloud over my head.

A Cloud Over My Head
by Maclean Patrick

There’s a cloud over my head,
The kind that keeps you awake,
Pulls you along a string of dreams,
Annoying, a pest, the beholder of a head-ache,

There’s a frown on my face,
An up-side down smile,
The kind that brings tears to your eyes,
Tears of pain and all things vile,

There’s a hole in my heart,
The kind that comes from a fracture,
Pulling me deeper into the abyss,
A spiral of gray dreams; beyond measure,

There’s a cloud over my head,
The kind that keeps the frown on my face,
A swirl of gray measurable-less dreams and screams,
As I lie watching from this earthly space.

A Pin For Your Roses

A Pin For Your Roses
by Maclean Patrick

There’s a voice,
Whispers in the space called silence,
There’s a whisper,
A smiling ache in loud slices,

There’s a time,
A clock turns to the right,
There’s a moment,
A muffled cry in darkest night,

Here’s a pin,
For the rose cuddled on your dress,
Here’s a kiss,
For the one; in pinkish dress,

Goodnight to you,
I wish you well, wish you safe,
Goodbye for now,
Thank you, for memories you gave,


For Ryan

For Ryan
by Maclean Patrick

Within the walls of silence,
I hear the voice of the void,
Within the reach of the speechless,
The cold touch to avoid,

Pass the door of despair,
I hear the reason of the fallen,
Within the glance of the innocent,
Deep calls upon deep; for time stolen,

Not the voice of the crowd,
Nor the voice of the righteous,
But the whisper of prayer said,
Eyes to heaven, voice of the gracious,

Tears to stumbling man,
Comfort in the darkest storm,
Push turn to shove; he’ll turn away,
Heart call to heart; he’ll come home.