#patty
~for patty m.~
the cyclicality of a life~long wondering, never concludes,
but the wheel turns slower and slower and slowly
even ever slower, till the wondering
becomes itself, itself becoming,
unbelievable,
nonetheless
believe it
wonderful
thirst for the higher ground
always
an inviolable
princess
principle
<nml>
Mar 6
Mar 6, 2026 at 2:52 AM UTC
Accused: moi
Accuser: patty m (her FBI codename
Charge: I stole "impeccable grace" from the Louvre
this falsehhod accusation
very truly yours appreciated,
please be advised, nothing
no one, has ever accused me of
impeccable anything
'tis true, at a restaurant. i'll request napkins,
two, for I am and inevitable dropper
of poems and food, and "cleanup in aisle Nat,'
has been a spoke in my eye,
a thousand times plus or so throughout
this great land so fair in wal marted parking lots
As for grace, 'tis true, once I knew one,
maybe two,
lassies both,
surnamed grace, both legally and by my loving heart,
which they stole, but they upped and left,
upon a making of a horrifyingly discovery
some of my best friends were
actual billionaires and verynpeccable
and me,
a tinkling twinkling winking mere multi million-airhead,
had nothing to shower her with, but endless poems,
gaga-galore and blah blah some more
she left me and my poems, for filthy lucre, and truly
don't despise her, for hers was commonsensical,
for with-a spare mill here or there, she can get anyone
to write her oodles of odes all-de-day-long
so not impeccable,
more likely
improbable just still
a breathing part of the
almost human race,
and as for grace,
she stops by now and then,
WHEN,
she wants a taste of the
genuine article…
a poem, that is…
for now, it's just mona l. and me,
hanging out in the same gallery,
abd I gotta tell ya,
her eye's ***********
now that's for really,
something that be so precisely detailed,
impeccable grace nml
Oct 20, 2025
Oct 20, 2025 at 1:24 PM UTC
"Poetry is confession, obsession, reflection.
Empathic minds, valentines, hope divined.
It's a kiss, whispered sweetly" (2)
who needs challenges, commissions.
kicks~in~le butte~
when heaven heaves rains, one downs tall orders in
short shot glass verses, which glossed over at its
first communion(cation,
come back
months later
to subtract - another
poem from where it lay dormant
on the doormat
of my sub~sub~terranes
of my diluted subconscious au natured dry & rugged terrain
a favored poet,
a secretive admirer,
whoa~whose~her truthful name, I've yet to uncover,
but whose one true soul inspires me repeatedly,
ana~lyrically licks me into
dredging from me
un begrudgingly
and yet,
another love poem,
she herself wrote when elixiring (commentating (3))
'pon one of mine,
a long long time ago
Alas! Alack!
unnaturally immodest,
one concedes,
when obviously a Super~Woman!-cedes,
seeds in three verses, what I could never unknot
nor uncover
so I requite & requote with
unlabored pleasure
miz patty m's
primary terse verse,
neither secondary & never tertiary,
her absolut perfect mixed drink
defining, summarizing,
the essences of love
*"(Love) Poetry is confession, obsession, reflection.
Empathic minds, valentines, hope divined.
It's a kiss, whispered sweetly"*
I concede, in deed,
and in writing,
I know nothing,
of writing
of only love poetry
and all the great predecessors,
elsewhere lyricized, named and tabulated,
by yet another women, (1)
I will take my weary words elsewhere,
and if
perhaps,
disguised as a woman,
(Natalie, Natasha, Natali
see note below)
perhaps my verbal herbal insides,
my turgid insights,
will be shorter, sweeter,
but never more completer
than those of,
who can syncopate it
in rhyme
and the naming of my
predilection,
by mid~initial,
will give a measuring
of solace, and
a kiss and hug from my mirrored selfie,
having been unsuccessful at
my one chosen endeavor,
only love poetry,
adieu,
I, due,
utter
Nevermore
M>
Sep 2, 2025
Sep 2, 2025 at 3:38 PM UTC
you find it…
by for and a gift to all of us…
<>>
patty m wrote:
“a sadness evoked,
a yoke around the neck,
the love peck on the cheek,
the cry, and alibi,
the coming together
of word and emotions spilling dreams,
how magical you stream
words into waves
that spill into rivers.
the magic of moonlight
strewn from pen to heart.
The love this poet imparts”
Dec 15, 2024
Dec 15, 2024 at 4:33 AM UTC
most of my poems come spontaneous,
dare I say even easy, the composition,
tumbling rumbling usually no fumbling,
this one, the prep commences. a month priority plus, with wellsprings of considerations,
in advance…
*’tis Miz Patty’s day of birth,
ah, the feminine mystique
prevents me from revealing
her precessional numerical
decades of decadence,
but adoration of this Magi,
is not so constrained,
so bend my knee to the woman
who writes a
poem’s complexity
as if it were a fine
medieval tapestry,
colors aflaming,
workmanship intricate
intriguing, well deserving
of a place,
in the Metropolitan Museum Cloisters fortress,
that guards
the Hudson River’s Upper Valley’s
verdant stippled wider majesty,
near to where Washington’s
troops fled Manhattan heights
to safety in New Jersey, most
ignominiously
*I’m told that tears arose,
then fell, when first she
read this inattributed essay
on this jubilee day, a clarion
reminder note of her coronation,
to this great green planet,
Missoura Mama as she is
with great affection so known
throughout this glorious land*
*Ah, wax too eloquent,
never my style,
only my favorite sin,
when one begins
to pray tribute,
to a finer poet…and
mine own heroine*
*this aperture of insight,
this scrap of script,
why the papyrus turns
pinkish red, as she demurs
this ode of praise,
while the edges crisp
burnt, brown ~black
by the heat of her outraged
enraged protestation
of “way too much,”
a pretense commenced
by my opportuned
impermissioned reveling
revelation of this
datapoints accidental
dislocating disclosure
as is my sin actuelle,
go on too long says
my devil muse,
so a final thought*
*if this should somehow be,
the first poem you’ve recovered
in this land of words gone mad,
make to hers, and there spend
a day, a lifetime, in a lovely land,
where her words will slip through
your eyes and hands, like fine
grains of sand, each letter,
a pearl in
black and white*…
Dec 9, 2024
Dec 9, 2024 at 11:00 PM UTC
~
June 2023
HP Poet: Patty Mager
Country: USA
Question 1: Welcome to the HP Spotlight, Patty. Please tell us about your background?
Patty M: "I was born an only child in a 3 generation household. I loved books, and playing imaginary games, and chasing my mom with really long nightcrawlers, my Grandpa raised in a washtub. I was a banker, and a financial banker for many years. I quit to do hospice for my Dad when he was to go into hospice. My husband had heart problems and my little Mom eventually got Cancer. So I nursed and loved them all. My Dad for a year, the others over an 8-year period. I saw the transition of each and the way each handled their ending, and I was there for them all. I consider that a special blessing."
Question 2: How long have you been writing poetry, and for how long have you been a member of Hello Poetry?
Patty M: "I always wrote, but I found a poetry site 20 years ago, and began to write seriously. I've been published in many anthologies both in the US and abroad. I was nominated for the coveted Pushcart Prize twice and I once had a three-page spread in our local newspaper. I came to HP in 2014 and I love this special place with amazingly wonderful poets who have become really great friends."
Question 3: What inspires you? (In other words, how does poetry happen for you).
Patty M: "Sometimes poems seem to write themselves, almost like automatic writing."
Question 4: What does poetry mean to you?
Patty M: "Poetry is spiritual, and a lifesaving rope that carries me through both good and the horrible times of my life."
Question 5: Who are your favorite poets?
Patty M: "My favorite Poets are: Sylvia Plath, Neruda, Billy Collins, Maya Angelou, Poe, Ginsberg, Anne Sexton, and Longfellow."
Question 6: What other interests do you have?
Patty M: "I love to cook, do crossword puzzles, read, and play card games like canasta, and spider solitaire. Being with family is my heaven."
Carlo C. Gomez: “Thank you so much for allowing me to interview you, dear Patty! I learned a great deal about you!”
Patty M: "Thank again Carlo. Thanks so much for all your help and kindness."
Thank you everyone here at HP for taking the time to read this. We hope you enjoyed getting to know Patty a little bit better. I indeed did. It is our wish that these spotlights are helping everyone to further discover and appreciate their fellow poets. – Carlo C. Gomez (aka Mr. Timetable)
We will post Spotlight #5 in July!
~
Jun 1, 2023
Jun 1, 2023 at 5:56 PM UTC
***“Who will judge, as many trudge
through mud, mucking up the rug,
a coating of clay formed by God on a particular day.
Yet talent is ingrained, whether sane or insane,
and verse is treasure or a curse, unrehearsed, dispersed for all to see,
will they applaud or disparage, this marriage of mind and rhyme,
by design aligned, a sign of the times...”***
ms. patty m
~~~
once again a thunderbolt command hits between the eyes, on-right
the precise spot where the head aches with desire to fulfill the write!
but to what can I add to this encompassing question already
better answered by the questioner?
who will judge indeed!
all the time and far too often,
the flotsam rises to the surface, when better left ignored,
while the jetsam jets nowhere, buried deep though breathing yet,
on unseen sea bottom of ignorance,
luck of the draw by one who designs, who aligns,
a capricious starscape in the firmament
as well as
the infirmity & ignominy of caskets lying quiet in sea trenches
that the answer herein contained, a supposition,
a poor poets speculation, a soul’s lactation,
the very question is a cyclone bomb by competents
who are blinded+bound+blessed by
incomprehension
the only judge and jury is
your forefingers tip,
if it tremble a-slight
when caressing the key called send,
your cellular fiber
has adjudged worthy,
and no dare disagree
talent and distinction
randomly and irrationally distributed,
but the courageous caress of a send key pressed,
is all that is needed
to impress the only judge and jury
that
authorized you
in advance to
love yourself insanely well enough
to write
and
to send for
a request for sentencing
Mar 14, 2019
Mar 14, 2019 at 11:31 AM UTC
Happy St Patrick's day,
I wrote in a note..
But you didn't read it,
& That made me feel low.
On the page,
A 4 leaf clover I drew.
Thought about how,
It reminded me of you.
I wrote.
*Good friends are like 4 leaf clovers,
Hard to find and lucky to have.*
***You might've been hard to find,
But all the luck that you gave, was bad...***
Mar 17, 2017
Mar 17, 2017 at 6:21 PM UTC