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Poems By Poet Patti Masterman  8/20/2014 9:37:06 AM
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we string up our words of pearl

we string up our words of pearl
dangle them, on finest fishing line:
butterflies, and large birds of prey
both are born from the same effort;
a monster, or a holy man
enter in through the same channel
and even though love and hate wrestle
every wee-hour of the dawn
to see which will reign that day,
we are never fearful of the weapon
we hold in our own hand
but only of what they might hold, in theirs.
Patti Masterman



We swam through the miles

We swam through the miles of back-lit stars
Hanging like pale gemstones above black velvet,
The inlet dropping warm saliva from the seas
Upon our valiantly upturned faces.

You passed through all my slow wheeling dreams,
A spent wave of once-occult feelings,
Though a moon still comes now and then
To rebuke me with its petulant gaze.

All that was new and carefully folded;
Never opened, in our love blind patience
Stirs now, like a wounded bird in shadow;
Because we never tested our wings.

The ocean spread itself bravely, shore to shore
But we remained earthbound;
Afraid we could not withstand two weathers;
Afraid we would lose sight of future landings.

The stars overhead signed their names off in frost,
But our compass was already submerged;
As East and West were plundered like twin wrecks,
We sailed off the sides of the map, into our own icy Sargasso.
Patti Masterman



We wait for love

We wait for love in thirsty dust, in dry heaving death,
We wait for love to sprout flypaper wings from nothingness,
To rise visible above fallow fields of dirt and cadavers.
We would promise that just over the horizon
There is a paradise, and fruit groves;
Seasons of plenty, and august grapes on the vine.
We write odes to love, and last testaments,
We dedicate our firstborn and will our last breath,
Plead with hands on hearts
Eyes raised toward heaven,
We pledge ourselves and we drink a toast
That all things touched by love should rightly prosper.

Love is more taciturn and complex,
Love's desires are opaque and discreet:
Wanting what it wants and what it doesn't,
And wanting it when, where, and for it's own undeclared purposes,
In its own good time or this moment or never;
Not wanting its name on fruit baskets or vineyards,
Not wanting to propagate itself,
Not liking wanton displays of bribery-
Choosing a few only, and letting the rest go to rot.

We reconcile ourselves to it by imagining
Love as an esoteric business; that no man
Could ever understand it's ends;
We don't want to admit even to ourselves that it's all governed
By chance or proximity; or by the amount of gold
Gleaming on somebody else's wineglasses.
Patti Masterman



We Wear Human

We wear human we crave freedom
The burden of the flesh hangs lightly upon us
We're crowned with breath because we breathe
We're cursed with death because we grieve

We're larger brains we're endless curiosity
We're insatiable lovers our seasons longest
We wear ourselves out like vehicles of delight
Discard the flesh go back to the light
Patti Masterman
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Poems By Poet Patti Masterman