Patti Masterman


Patti Masterman Poems

2521. Sympathetic Magic 5/12/2012
2522. And The Elephant Played Ukulele 11/11/2011
2523. If I Were A Moon 2/19/2012
2524. I Can'T Help But Love You 8/26/2011
2525. A Bullet For Lenin 9/20/2011
2526. The Lonely Sound Of The Midnight Train 11/25/2012
2527. Thought Is The Keyhole 6/10/2012
2528. Yours To Reap 9/8/2011
2529. Incandescent 6/3/2011
2530. A Forgotten Word 4/17/2010
2531. Some Think The Night 3/31/2012
2532. Your Soul Still Sings It's Living Name 4/7/2010
2533. Your Words Stir Me 1/20/2010
2534. A Verb Went To Town 6/29/2011
2535. A 17th Century Curse 3/5/2011
2536. Only The Wind 5/26/2013
2537. A Catalogue Of Insomnia 4/11/2010
2538. Abuse Me 5/24/2011
2539. A Beautiful Man's Mind 9/5/2011
2540. A Beakers Full Of Love 4/6/2010
2541. A Dream 4/2/2010
2542. Big City Hospital 6/6/2011
2543. Anger And Patience 1/20/2010
2544. I Think We Were Never Strangers 8/21/2011
2545. How Much Are Words Like Bridges 6/15/2011
2546. How The World Engraves Itself Upon Our Being 5/6/2012
2547. I Am That 6/15/2011
2548. A Bear Came To Dinner 6/15/2011
2549. A Dream For You 9/5/2011
2550. A House Breathes Through Its Bones 6/3/2011
2551. Anti-Love Poem #1 12/29/2009
Best Poem of Patti Masterman

Anti-Love Poem #1

When you've loved someone,
As much as you're capable of,
Just let them go. Even better,
Don't write about them- ever.
If you must, let it be once only
And let that be as their epitaph.
Let the seasons and the wind
Sweep away the painful memories
Don't try to re-start fire from a faded puff of smoke.
And give yourself some time to recover.

If you must write thousands of lines
About what went wrong, or why,
For gods sake burn it- burn it quickly
Don't leave it lying around for others eyes to see
And for the dance line to start forming behind you:...

Read the full of Anti-Love Poem #1

The Belly Of The Beast

Lost in the belly of the beast,
We look up and see all those curving arches,
And we think then that we're in some majestic cathedral;
But the next sloping corridor takes us down to the mortuary,
The processing station, for what we are busy turning into.
But we still ignore the smell, as we're too busy believing
That for us, a great feast is being prepared-
Just like children at christmas time
Always believe the world is organized solely around them;

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