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Poems By Poet Patti Masterman  1/30/2015 6:25:21 AM
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  Best Poems From
  PATTI MASTERMAN
 
 
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  5.     

White feathers falling

White feathers falling,
When an angel flew close by;
There's nothing up above us,
But I saw him, on the sly.

White downy floaters,
Floating on the sea of air;
In a single eye blink,
I saw him hovering there.

Souvenirs of miracles,
Signs and wonders too:
He knew he lost that feather-
And he said- give it to you.
 
Patti Masterman
   
 

   
   
 

  6.     

Bad News, Good News

Sometimes I delude myself
Thinking I'm writing poems, but then I read somebody elses
And I get so blown away, and I realize again:
I'm not really writing poems; I'm just building houses out of cards;
Forts out of chairs and blankets;
Making an out of alphabetical order dictionary
Missing all the best words.
I could shrivel up from the white hot jealousy
But I also pay secret homage inside,
Kneel down to that other writing
Take off my hat because
That's real, that's soulful, that's full of vitality and meaning:
I'd pray for a blood transfusion with your blood
I'd beg for a brain transplant
Or at least a telepathic exchange for a fortnight,
Not that any of those can help with my problem-
Like Salieri, I'm not so lacking in discernment,
As to not recognize true genius-
Unfortunately my senses are fully intact there.
So even though I leave nice comments on your smoking stuff..
Never think for one minute, that I would not enjoy
Hearing news of your death.
 
Patti Masterman
   
 

   
   
 

  7.     

Four Elements

AIR
An ocean I’m called, going to and fro
In the twin pipe organs that breathe and blow
I enliven all hearts
From the very first start
The first to come and the last to go.

FIRE
Food is the fire at my hearth
Delivered through blood before birth
Life on it depends
To live you must expend
The price of living on earth.

EARTH
The thick repository of all that is
Growing things must feel my kiss
Whether volcanoes spew me
Or earthquakes chew me
Always beneath I exist.

WATER
I float nine months in loves briny ocean
So gently rocked by each tiny motion
Fresh riptides of blood
My whole being flood
The painful entrance inspires devotion.

Four elements compose the whole
Each one plays it's very own role
But the deepest part fills
When the first breath instills
The self’s own select living Soul.
 
Patti Masterman
   
 

   
   
 

  8.     

In Case of Fire, Break Glass

Of the most difficult, unyielding opponents, foremost is
The blank piece of paper, staring, unblinking, while
The ideas roll off the other side of it, bleating.
They crash and burn in the silent vacuum of space
Leaving you blank-slated and sucking air-
But there are worse things in life than a papercut.
The worst things in life are done to yourself:
Getting the noose ready, the poisons lined up neatly
Holding the electric wires you step into that bucket
Razorblades clutched tightly just in case as
So carefully you weave the oversized shroud, full of finest black- hole threading
With brilliant flashes of metallic where you ripped your own selfhood,
Bloodied, where you dashed your own hopes
With malice aforethought, just to see yourself cringe
Shrinking Violet and Doubting Thomas that you are.
No outsider can wound you as quickly
With such breathtakingly reckless abandon,
Taking no hostages, leaving no stone unturned.
There is no gag can stifle that voice, that waylayer who dissembles-
The blackmailer who can’t be bargained with or paid off;
You can’t stop the car and leave him stranded on some anonymous dirt road
He is there with you for the long-haul, never doubt it.
Best to give him the minimum of attention
And then run like hell whenever he is distracted, when you’ve
Finally convinced him you always listen to his every malodourous insinuation.
And keep looking, looking, looking in every direction
As long as it takes: for the sun to break through;
The sun that shines on the just and the unjust
Wait for it as if your life depends on it:
Look for when the sun finally breaks thru:
Now look: And wait, and keep looking till the hour of the day you can say,
I see it now; there it is, I have been waiting so long
There is that brilliant blue.
 
Patti Masterman
   
 
 
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Poems By Poet Patti Masterman