We at Sudden Denouement Literary Collective are thrilled to introduce you, once again to Patrick Hart, and also to give him a very warm welcome into the collective.
Patrick Hart is a writer from Hampton Roads Virginia, currently spending time in Valdosta Georgia with his wife and dog. His day job is serving in the United States Air Force as an Air Traffic Controller. His passion for writing has been present for as long as he can remember, but it really presented itself as songwriting during his youth. When he left his drum-kit for a different career path, he realized that that he was lacking an outlet; that outlet became poetry, and Instagram became his venue. “Untrained, but untamed” would be an appropriate way to describe his breadth of work. Patrick sets out to write about the truths we all have inside of us that we typically turn a blind eye too. He’s down right dogmatic about his attempts to step into the ring with melancholia, mental health, anger, and loss. His writing is self-serving when it’s therapeutic, but he skewers himself in the public eye to welcome connection.
He says, “We must write for ourselves first, but through that, and in this glorious day of technology, we can let others know they aren’t alone in their emotions. Writers and readers are typically a conglomeration of outcasts, and we’re not as rare as we might think in our darkest moments.”
Patrick Hart has an unhealthy craving for marshmallows, and good music. He collects vinyl records because they symbolize commitment. For more random facts about him, and to keep up with his writing, you’ll have to follow his IG account @workinprogress13
Five Years and Counting – Patrick Hart
Today I am rolled over
Mauled by bitter sundown
And the amalgamation
Of sterile interaction and dulled colors
What did I miss?
Was it the phone calls?
Or the way you would have to clinch your jaw
To utter “God” through your teeth?
Was it the rusting way you would say goodbye
I was too busy honoring your strength
To acknowledge your misery
I remember the parking lot at 8pm
When you left us for Alaska
You told me to look after my sister
(Which I’m failing at)
Was the ground vibrating and I missed it?
If you come back,
I swear to God that I would feel it
I would stop you
So, today I am worn
Like the carcass of trees
And the cigarette burning
I am dried wood
I am dyed wool
And I am weak enough
To light the whole thing myself
Pennywise, smokes, and Jameson
Today is about recognizing that love
Comes in many forms
And sometimes we dirty our hands
With devotion to the glacier inside
And man, you burned so goddamn bright
That the ice melted too soon
And I forgave you long ago,
But it scares me to admit
That I understand you
That I understand ‘It”
There’s a lack in the air
Hands reach up from soft soil
As my head ascends
My body repines
Fawning eyes used to hold me
Until the things inside
Became a sadness you couldn’t teach
It has been five years and counting
It has been five years and…
© Patrick Hart 2018
Grab a copy of Patrick’s stunning debut collection War Paint, and you can thank us later.