Patti Masterman Poems

How tiresome to read my own words again:
I know the plot and the lines before they happen;
Contrivances of mine cannot make me smile.
Don't ask me to explain these words again
...

Everyday life is just another poverty
In-between the end of one tragedy
And start of the new catastrophic holiday:
Alone in graveyards, you're watching
...

When people like to play their games;
That 'careful or you might make me angry' game
They never stop to consider
That I might be the better one, at playing it;
...

Astronauts are we:
Discovering the quantum coventry,
Floating around on wings that be
Designed of man's futility.
...

Sometimes used to think that babies could only dwell
In their special realm, of sweet baby smells;
Tidy white crib, with the even spaced bars.
Pony lamps too, pink and yellow and blue.
...

My heart is busy pumping all it's blood into you,
As if you were a molecular black hole,
Vampire-primed, with internal fangs
Pointed my direction; binary sun's shock wave,
...

The wanderer that's genius thrives
On distance, and far away longing:
Eyes well focused, but visible miles
Between sublimed, and sublimer.
...

The sun glares through the cracks
In the walls, and awakens me-
Of gaps here, there is no lack;
And after a few hours sleep
...

I've quit believing that just being kind
Will keep others from being at my throat
It was a hard lesson, went against everything
I thought that I had ever known.
...

And if I loved you forever, from over here
And kept the distance; and did not disturb
Your aura, your expression, or your mood,
And let you roam free; and kept to myself
...