Patti Masterman Poems

When you are gone, it is like the sails
Have gone on with the wind, alone;
Or the gulls have gone ahead of the crest
Of the wave- or how still music floats over water
...

Mary Carolina. A blue sky of a name,
And she could whistle; carry a tune for days-
for all the seasons, in her special ways.
...

He was mere man, who broke my body open,
Who saw my life's turning, so plainly told,
And once slumbering flesh had finally awoken,
I missed not one minute, whatever he stole.
...

Women fear that their houses are dirty
for they themselves are judge, jury and hangman
and fear the decisions they would hand down if
...

His clear eyes might have spoke Gaelic,
But were skilled, in the language of one,
As he held the bobbing world on a string-
Just inches, from the spectre of sun.
...

Before the Revolution:
The jewels sparkled at the Empress' throat
The children were all tucked away in their beds
The clock struck at the eleventh hour
...

One man can hold enough sun for many lifetimes,
if only the dust didn't covet
his body's inner darkness,
and long to lay claim to it.
...

So the scientists touted the breakthrough, that death had at last
been broached; that final deadline crossed forever, and now we could
communicate with anyone who had passed over. The sky was the limit;
dead geniuses could now be quizzed about the worlds problems, which
...

I keep on doing things because
the not-doing of them
is a kind of non-existence
and overall it seems better
...

You are of Earth, I'm water-sign;
Frivolous, frothing, foam will fly,
You are base; and acid, I:
Float on clouds above your soil,
...