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Poems By Poet Patti Masterman  3/3/2015 8:46:05 PM
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Why do we treat our loved ones the worst

Why do we treat our loved ones the worst,
Reserving kind words and looks for guests;
But for the one who knows us best,
We are taciturn and impatient; terse.

Why take only our foul moods home,
Instead of letting them see our joy;
To the outer world we’re prim and coy,
But beside our own, often turn to stone.

The world exacts it's toil on being;
Keeping a pleasant face’s an act,
Taking our extra energy, for fact,
But who knows the truth of what it's seeing?

Those ones you're striving so to impress
Forget you, soon as the door slams shut;
And scarce could remember your name, if but-
For money or favors; or even less.

Someday you must bid goodbye your love
And one of you goes home, all alone,
And sits alone, while they turn to bone-
Don't slip your heart into a glove.

Be present with them, while you have the chance,
And do the small things, you know they adore,
And you'll have some sweet memories to store-
But the others won't save one single glance.
Patti Masterman



Wish I May, Wish I Might

Every star's a fable,
A story in the sky,
A trail of angel's footprints
(some angels cannot fly) .

Every tale's worth keeping
And writing in a book;
So every star you're seeing,
Just take a closer look:

There's stars wished on by babies,
And stars from lover's eyes,
Stars that saved a sailor
Or intrepid voyager, high.

Stars that guide the night time,
And stars that swiftly fell,
And stars that shine in daylight,
At the bottom of a well.

There are stars in the evening,
And stars before the dawn,
To tell us what the season,
And when the work is done.

There's the first star you remember,
And the last you'll see before
Your eyelids close forever-
Before a star-lit door.

And then you'll be a star yourself,
Shining miles above;
Lighting worlds with distant lamps,
Burning bright with love.
Patti Masterman



The Genii in the Bottle

Animals must go berserk when they sniff my room-
So many scents, so many bottles-
It must smell like a thousand armageddons
Flowery spices and attar of rose
Orange blossom and civet musk
Oppopanox and oud wood
All the ambers and vanillas
The older stuff thickened now with age
And darker colored than when it first arrived
All of it my rare treasure
And my older body, childbirth wise, briny,
Turns the scents inside out
Rankles them, puts them off
Even my nose is out of tune nowdays
Nobody knows the secret of why
I'm still clinging to all these old friends
It's so simple it makes me want to laugh:
All my memories are bottled up inside
Those fragrances, sachets and potions
How can I ever throw those away
I can't distill them out of the scents
You can't throw away pieces of yourself
Even parts from the long lost days
And the clutter does add a certain exotic richness;
A heady, wafting incense always straining
To escape from the containers-
My secret wish fulfilling Genii.
Patti Masterman



Wonderfully and Fearfully Made

Creation's left its markers
Imprinted on the being;
You have to know just where to look
To know what you are seeing.

The hollow down my back
Is where the sperm divides the seed,
The navel on my stomach,
Where the embryo must feed.

The space between the eyes
Is the animal body's clock,
It watches for the sunlight;
To the pineal gland, it talks.

The dreamers dream is paralyzed,
The autonomic does it,
So that we won't leap up then
And much too fully trust it.

The blackest center of my eye's
Where humankind is tied;
The place we look to prove we're true,
And also, find the lie.

We once were water creatures
And inside the womb, had gills,
That now are ears and cheeks
And they enable us to hear.

We're maternal mammals
And we make our babies milk,
So they'll have the perfect food-
And seldom, do we spill.

We hide our stash of eggs
Deep within the body's cave;
And each one is more precious,
For amounts of time we gave.

We have the longest childhood,
More than other forms of life-
So we can learn to live in peace
Avoiding the strife.

Psalm 139: 14 (New International Version)
'I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.'
Patti Masterman
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Poems By Poet Patti Masterman