# FREE Monday thru Wednesday - May 5, 6 & 7- The Closet Clandestine at Amazon



## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

*FREE Monday thru Wednesday - May 5, 6 & 7 at Amazon** 

The Closet Clandestine
a queer steps out

by Edward C. Patterson
Kindleboard Book Profile for The Closet [URL=Clandestine:a]Clandestine:a queer steps out[/url]
A Journey from the Darkness Into the Light

The closet is a dark and airless place, so when I emerged from it, what else could I do but extol the truth's glory over systemic lies -- life's beauty in its infinite variety over societal servitude in its deafening prejudice.

The Closet Clandestine is a paean to existance beyond the closet -- seven peans, in fact -- chapbooks dedicated to my OUTbound journey. Sensitive, bold, Gay and sometimes shocking, these are the lyrics of my journey from darkness to twilight to sunshine.

Included -- seven chapbooks:

The Awakening
Catherine and Other Poems
The Festival at Thebes
Ties and Rings
Gay October
Provincetown Poems, and 
Songs: Not Just Survival.

"Rage girls in fiery green - that I will never retreat into the closet clandestine again."



These 180 poems are collected into seven volumes:

The Awakening
Catherine and Other Poems
The Festival at Thebes
Ties and Rings
Gay October
Provincetown Poems
Songs: Not Just Survival.​
The following review does not appear on Amazon:

Review from Rainbow Reviews: 
"I read poetry by "dipping" - the book lies by my bed, and I dip at random, reading one, maybe two before bed. In this way the pleasure is extended, it can take months to read through a volume. Poetry should not be rushed. I enjoyed this volume of poetry. For one, the layout is to my taste, lots of white, open space, to leave room for thought. Another thing I enjoyed seeing was the development of the poet, from being 'in the closet' in The Awakening, to being 'out, and proud of it' in Songs: Not just Survival. There is a progression; the poet shares his life and moments. The poems are well crafted, it is clear that thought and love and much work went into the work. I plan to keep the volume by my bed. Read it, savor it."

Review by L. Adlem

Thank you
Edward C. Patterson*


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## EsmeLuv (Apr 24, 2009)

I don't read much poetry, but this one looks intiguing.  I'll have to check it out....Thank you, Ed.  I've enjoyed many of your books.


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

Esmeluv:

Poetry is the cornerstone of any author's life. Unfortunately, readers either are avid poetry readers or "Poetry is not my cup of tea." Authors know this, but still, to withhold the sinews that holds my world together would be damnable on my part. Thus, The Closet Clandestine. Try it Esmeluv. I think you'll like it.

Edward C. Patterson


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

On May 11, The loset Clandestine will be returning to its full price of $3.99.

Edward C. Patterson


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

*The Question: Should I leave the price of this book at $ .99 permanently. Poetry lovers speak up. If I get 10 new readers by May 11th, I will keep the Kindle price of The Closet Clandestine permanently at $ .99.* or

Post here feelings on poetry in general.

Edward C. Patterson


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

The Wednesday Poetry Sample from The Closet Clandestine

_*Cultural Warriors*_

_to a defining moment _

We are culture's warriors, 
Raising our voices through the land; 
Teaching with our measures, 
And our hearts tied to songs;
Hymns that wrap the people 
In heaven's coverlet. 
We are the beacons for the century, 
To the youth and fiery angels, 
Leading our pavilions 
Into the world's pavilions. 
We follow the drum bangers, 
The locust-eaters and prophets; 
Beyond the tabernacles, 
Into the hearth places, 
The fountain places 
Where the sanctuary stones weep 
To understand our strains. 
The frost heart melts. 
The statue head quivers. 
The ignorant understand 
As we, the cultural warriors 
Bring the beacons of truth to the night's cold misery 
Leaving in our wake 
A clear and starry dawn.

* Inspired by Donna Red Wing

Edward C. Patterson


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## Carol Hanrahan (Mar 31, 2009)

Ed,
I love the over art for The Closet Clandestine.  And I enjoyed your Wed. poem.  What a great idea to post one of your poems every Wed!  

Carol Hanrahan
author of Baling


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

Thank you Carol. Well, there are 180 poems in the collections. So if no one wants to own the collection, they can wait 180 weeks and collect them that way for free. Like dishes at Dish Night at the Movies (of which I'm olf enough to remember).  

Edward C. Patterson


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## vwkitten (Apr 10, 2009)

The ferret ponders the bit of stone that would feed a miner's family for a year.  

Poetry is an acquired taste and very much like wine.  Anyone can make it by stomping on a few grapes and ferreting the resulting liquid away in some dark corner of their lives.  Anyone can drink it.  For each who drinks there is a unique reaction on their tongues and with their minds.  But most importantly, poetry is best when aged just right.  Only the test of time determines a poem's true merit.  If you can read the same poem ten times over ten years and feel something significant each time... that is what makes it art.  IMHO.

Cheers.


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## Gertie Kindle (Nov 6, 2008)

vwkitten said:


> The ferret ponders the bit of stone that would feed a miner's family for a year.
> 
> Poetry is an acquired taste and very much like wine. Anyone can make it by stomping on a few grapes and ferreting the resulting liquid away in some dark corner of their lives. Anyone can drink it. For each who drinks there is a unique reaction on their tongues and with their minds. But most importantly, poetry is best when aged just right. Only the test of time determines a poem's true merit. If you can read the same poem ten times over ten years and feel something significant each time... that is what makes it art. IMHO.
> 
> Cheers.


Trish, I have never liked poetry, but your description was truly poetic.


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

Gertie:

You'd just love my poetry. In fact, send me an email [email protected] and I'll give you the whole shooting match and make a poetry lover out of ya.

Ed Patterson

PS: My motto to all authors.

Two things are necessary to succeed when writing a novel. An author must write poetry in order to awaken the inner spirit of he book and its characters, and they must also be a smart-ass comic, to engage the reader constantly with the humor and irony of the life about them.


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## Gertie Kindle (Nov 6, 2008)

edwpat said:


> Gertie:
> 
> You'd just love my poetry. In fact, send me an email [email protected] and I'll give you the whole shooting match and make a poetry lover out of ya.
> 
> Ed Patterson


Sorry, Ed. Not going to happen. I usually get two lines in and then I zone out. I tried the one you posted above, and the same thing happened. I'm a rabid Potter fan and had trouble getting through the sorting hat song. I skipped all of the songs in LotR (just poetry without music).

More power to those of you who enjoy it. It's just an avenue of enjoyment that is lost on me. I'll take the wine, though.


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## vwkitten (Apr 10, 2009)

Hey thanks Gertie.

My stuff isn't poetry... it isn't.   It's just really descriptive analogies.

Hugs,
Trish


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## Carol Hanrahan (Mar 31, 2009)

Gertie,

There is a book called Poetry 180, unfortunately not available on Kindle yet.  The premise is that a high school student could read a poem a day for the school year, and begin to get a good appreciation of poetry.  I suspect these poems might be a little different than Harry Potter or LOTR poems....  
Anyway, just thought I'd throw that out there.....


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

Well, my poetry is hot stuff, with the empahsis on the HOT.  

Ed P


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## Carol Hanrahan (Mar 31, 2009)

Ed,
We need more poets.  Keep up the good (hot) work!


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## Gertie Kindle (Nov 6, 2008)

Carol Hanrahan said:


> Gertie,
> 
> There is a book called Poetry 180, unfortunately not available on Kindle yet. The premise is that a high school student could read a poem a day for the school year, and begin to get a good appreciation of poetry. I suspect these poems might be a little different than Harry Potter or LOTR poems....
> Anyway, just thought I'd throw that out there.....


Thanks, Carol, but poetry is just not my thing. You would never get me to read a poem a day for even one day. It's good you posted that, though, because others might be interested.

I mentioned the HP poem because only Potter could make me read one.


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

Hmmmm. Let me try to put Gertie asleep.

There once was a man from Boston,
Who had a baby Austen
He had room from his . . .
And a gallon of gas,
But his . . . hung out and he lost 'em.

On which line did you doze off on Gertie. he he he  

BTW, that one was red to me in the cradle my my dear Auntie Mae.

Ed Patterson

PS: I was born a port. So were many in my family, and now I'm gonna brag. I am the grandson of Hilda Herrick Patterson, who is a descendant of Robert Herrick, and we have rhythm and rhyme rolling through our veins. In The Jade Owl Legacy, I have a cache phrase abut "gather ye rosebuds as ye may," in reference to research methodology, but it's really a homage to my illustrious poet ancestor, and the line is from his Advice to Young Virgins.

ECP


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## Gertie Kindle (Nov 6, 2008)

edwpat said:


> Hmmmm. Let me try to put Gertie asleep.
> 
> There once was a man from Boston,
> Who had a baby Austen
> ...


Are you saying limericks are poetry? 



> PS: I was born a port. <snip>


You were born a "port?" I was born a chianti.


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

A fine chianti with fava beans, Clari. he he he. 

Miss Chatty


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## Gertie Kindle (Nov 6, 2008)

edwpat said:


> A fine chianti with fava beans, Clari. he he he.
> 
> Miss Chatty


Ick!!!


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

It's funny, Gertie. Most peoppe won't buy the Closet Clandestine not because of the poetry, but because of the full title.

_*The Closet Clandestine: a queer steps out*_

Now that might scare 'em a little, but they should know that when I stepped out of the closet, I came out like a frakin' Murphy bed, and there's quite a bit of entertainment value in that image.

Ed Patterson


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## Gertie Kindle (Nov 6, 2008)

edwpat said:


> It's funny, Gertie. Most peoppe won't buy the Closet Clandestine not because of the poetry, but because of the full title.
> 
> _*The Closet Clandestine: a queer steps out*_
> 
> ...


Murphy bed? Are you kidding? You're really Tim Conway, right?


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

Almost as old as him. I came out of the closet at the young age of 42, and just celebrated my 20th year out. Before that - well, I explain a lot of that in my books. Especially the autobiographical on of me in the Army in 1967 - Surviving an American Gulag.

Ed


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

Wednesday 5/20/09 - Poem of the Week

from Ties and Rings, published in The Closet Clandestine

_*Over the Counter Encounter*_

_for Richard and Mike _

He was an over-the-counter encounter. 
His smile won my heart; 
His wink my soul 
And, little did I know then, 
What I know now.

A coffee break; a dinner or two, 
Then, to the blossom of my virgin sheets; 
This little guy, this blue-eyed soul 
Would be the one for me; 
In his arms and his heart so deep. 
This is the vigil I kept and keep.

We were engaged; 
And shared some trips, 
Some clothing and a chair, a lounge; 
Then, somehow after seven years, 
A house, the cooking, the cleaning chores; 
The wonder of how we ever survived 
The money, the bout, the touch and feel, 
The reconciliation after ordeal. 
Never apart; always float, 
Some days fresh 
Others rote, 
Yet, balance it all under the sun 
And happiness is that heart I won.

Into the woods, the damp and rain 
We camped for a week - managed colds. 
Then, home for a month my cold subsides; 
But my little guy's chest all cure defies. 
Suddenly, into my sunshine world, 
I held his hand as he seemed to sink; 
I learned the plague was here. 
My angry soul, who knew not why, 
I shared a world, but not this one;
And I wanted to die and suffer too 
Into this horrible harvest reaped. 
And that is the vigil I kept and keep.

I quit my job to be with him 
As better and worse and better and grim 
Intruded on each waking hour 
As I cared for my little blue-eyed flower. 
I helped him walk and rubbed his feet 
So he might find the peace to sleep 
And that is the vigil I kept and keep.

The day it snowed I carried him 
To a place where he could see. 
The snow he loved, and was meant for him 
Because God knew from me. 
But he could not see because the plague 
Had torn away his eyes 
And so I sat beside my love 
And told him of the scene.

Then, his family came 
And they saw me; they knew; 
Each touched my love 
And wept anew.

_It's snowing Mike - and just for you. _

And then, they went away 
Because they knew.

And my little over-the-counter encounter 
Snuggled me close and went to sleep.

And I am always alone with him. 
That is the vigil I kept and keep.

Edward C. Patterson


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## cat616 (Nov 4, 2008)

Ed,

That is very touching.  I am sitting here at work with tears in my eyes.  Love is a wonderful gift to be held and cherished no matter where it comes from.  You are blessed to have found this love and wise to cherish it.

I did buy The Closet Clandestine in April but have not opened it yet.  I hope some of the poems will make me laugh too!


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

Thank you Cat:

And blush too.  

Mike and Richard deserve all the tears I can muster for them.

Ed Patterson


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

*Wednesday Poem - 5/27/09*

*I Watch Beside You*​
_for Tony_

I watch beside you by the window
As the rain kisses the pane;
Your eyes, sad eyes, pan the sky.
And I think I am not here, to your mind,
Your soul joining the drops in their cold dance.
Yet, I hear their lullaby, rocking your tired soul
In some phantom text.
Silence, there is silence.
Like the silence of the first day,
While you recall times that I could not,
Secrets released only to the rain,
Only on the gale's cleansing whisper;
And you sigh; and I catch it;
Knowing your secret parley to the storm.
I catch your glance beside the pane;
And like a moth to candle I am drawn;
Knowing that in light there is truth;
In flame there is death;
But in the rain our secrets wash together to the same anointed sea.

Edward C. Patterson


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## Meredith Sinclair (May 21, 2009)

edwpat said:


> Wednesday 5/20/09 - Poem of the Week
> 
> from Ties and Rings, published in The Closet Clandestine
> 
> ...


THAT made me cry....  It's nice to know that you did experience such love, and that he had you there with him in the end.

Merry


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

Thank you Merry. Mike didn't die in my arms, but in Richard's. The dedication is to them. They became a catalyst for my own volunteerism in the community. I have read that poem at meetings and gatherings since the mid-90's until it came to rest in the Closet Clandestine collection. If it's any consolation, I never can finish a reading withou becoming a mass of blubbering jelly. But all writing must have a purpose, and in this case, it is meant to capture the reality of the plague.

Edward C. Patterson


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## Meredith Sinclair (May 21, 2009)

edwpat said:


> Thank you Merry. Mike didn't die in my arms, but in Richard's. The dedication is to them. They became a catalyst for my own volunteerism in the community. I have read that poem at meetings and gatherings since the mid-90's until it came to rest in the Closet Clandestine collection. If it's any consolation, I never can finish a reading without becoming a mass of blubbering jelly. But all writing must have a purpose, and in this case, it is meant to capture the reality of the plague.
> 
> Edward C. Patterson


Sorry about the "Faux pas" I guess you probably have explained that somewhere on here before, or in the book. I too lost a few dear friends to it. Even an ex-boyfriend, I was the first girl I think that he confided in, and turns, out he was the _fourth_ boyfriend ( in high school-80's) I actually had that came out... I do not take this as a reflection of me as a woman at all, I believe I just probably had a more sensitive nature and accepted them as they were.


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## cat616 (Nov 4, 2008)

Ed - You certainly understand and captured love and the pain of disease in a significant other with Over the Counter Encounter.  That is why we thought it is about you.  It is so much from your heart that it is easy to misunderstand that you experienced it as the survivor of the coupling.

I Watch Beside You is not touching any chords for me.

I look forward to next week's selection.


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## Meredith Sinclair (May 21, 2009)

cat616 said:


> Ed - You certainly understand and captured love and the pain of disease in a significant other with Over the Counter Encounter. That is why we thought it is about you. It is so much from your heart that it is easy to misunderstand that you experienced it as the survivor of the coupling.
> I look forward to next week's selection.


Exactly.


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

Thank you Cat and Merry:

BTW I am working on a novel (not yet published - so don;t call this promotion, but just information), called Look Away Silence based on that poem's premise. 

Edward C. Patterson


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## Meredith Sinclair (May 21, 2009)

edwpat said:


> Thank you Cat and Merry:
> 
> BTW I am working on a novel (not yet published - so don;t call this promotion, but just information), called Look Away Silence based on that poem's premise.
> 
> Edward C. Patterson


Well, I don't mind you giving me a heads-up.  I would LOVE to read it, if it is about the two of them. I love a good love story. Even if I end up bawling my eyes out


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## Brenda Carroll (May 21, 2009)

Meredith Sinclair said:


> Exactly.


Well, Miss Merry, I see you like bawling your eyes out and your icon is intriguing. That would not be the bawling eye, would it? I hope not!  But I've seriously been trying to figure out what it says. Is that a book? Are you an author(ess)? I don't see a link in your signature. You know what they say (whoever they are) that you can't judge a book by its cover?  I read Edward's poem and I hate, hate, hate crying, but.... oh, well, there was no way getting around it. I'm a creampuff sometimes for sad stories, but I like to do my crying all alone (mainly because I have a rather large honker and they get all confused when I blow my nose and think that its the tornado warning siren or something). *Smeah*.


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

Do I need to start a new thread called "Getcha Keenix here!"  

Ed the Thread


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## cat616 (Nov 4, 2008)

edwpat said:


> Do I need to start a new thread called "Getcha Keenix here!"
> 
> Ed the Thread


Only if you continue to evoke such deep emotions with your writing.


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## Susan in VA (Apr 3, 2009)

I just discovered this thread.  I wasn't really planning to start the day out with a good cry, but...

Thank you for posting these.


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

Thank you Susan:

The book itself doesn't get too many takers as poetry is generally a labor of love - so I figured I'd release one poem a week for 180 weeks (there are 180 poems in the book). There's not enough poetry on Kindleboards. On another forum for authors I started "Today is Thursday: That Means Poetry," where all the authors mustor a poem eachThursday. I might start something like that here too - as a separate thread. I thing there are also many readers out there who write poetry and it would give them a chance to, in Jane Austen's words via Mr. Bennett, "exhibit their talents."

Edward C. Patterson


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## Susan in VA (Apr 3, 2009)

Like Gertie, I never used to be much of a poetry fan. Just couldn't get into it.

Then within the past couple of years, two things changed that: (and I'm posting them here because maybe they will persuade someone else to give poetry another try)

I have a friend who's a poet. Published and all, and gets glowing reviews in Serious Publications by People Who Understand Poetry. I never really "got it". I bought and read her stuff more out of a sense of friendship-loyalty, but it didn't do anything for me. Then one day she did a reading. I went, again mostly to be a supportive friend and not for the actual poetry, and it was a night-and-day difference. Suddenly it all came alive, the descriptions and the emotions and the characters... I _felt_ what she had been saying all along, but it took hearing it out loud to get there. (Funny, because with other things I don't like being read to, I prefer to read them myself.) So now when I read poetry I imagine someone _saying_ the words, and it makes a huge difference.

The other was a literature class, not required for anything but I took it because the prof is fantastic. (This is how I manage to get to a zillion credits without a degree.) On the first day of class, with half the students really not wanting to be there, she gave a standard lecture about how great literature grows out of suffering, not happiness.... a bunch of kids in class were less than enthusiastic about the lecture.... so she decided to bring it home to people by asking for volunteers to tell a really sad story from their past. It was slow going at first, but after the first two or three everyone found something to tell, and there was a great deal of variety in the type of stories told. But they were all pretty intense, and by the fifth story half the class was in tears. After about the tenth one she said, ok, now think about writing about how you feel _right now_, and consider how that would sound vastly different than writing a standard college essay on your nice neat orderly opinions. (First time I ever came home and said "that was a great class, we were all crying".  ) Coming shortly after the poetry reading, this really reinforced the idea that to appreciate it, you have to try to get inside the author's head, and _feel _with them.


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

Susan:

My fellow authors find me obnoxious when I state (and I did state it on the Bobby Ozuna Radio Show, to underscore how important in my opinion it is): 

"A prerequisite to writing a novel is poetry and humor. The one gives the work vibrancy within the weave, and the other, interest to engage the reader."

Some of the most famous poets that we have never heard of are Dickens, Melville, Fitzgerald, Hemmingway . . . and their best poetry lurked beneath their prose. Of course, one novelist abandoned novel writing altogether for poetry, and that would Mr. Thomas Hardy. He's an exception, because his poetry is exquisitely a testament to the man himself and is quite popular.

Edward C. Patterson


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

Wednesday Poem - 6/3/2009

*I've Made Acquaintances in My Time*

_a Veteran's Song_

I've made acquaintances in my time,
Serviced in Franconia's keep;
Far from home in country's want,
Lost in reverie's gilded days.
Good friends were they
Lost in reverie's gilded days.

They drank in solace with my shade,
Minds were cast across the sea
As if in some dim middle passage
Returned we home as mere debris.
We.

Cognac spun us
Over midnight's candle
Chirping drunk about the roofs,
Like Maryland and Michigan and Breukelen,
Wafting smoke in waking cheer.
Glasses lifted; hearts endeared.
We.

Hours passed apace -
Day on day, sec' on sec',
Time mounts as power 'til old timers we,
Bottling friendships on the cupboard shelf.
We.

Who then are we, as time spends its golden sheen
Into the wind's cold chalice.

Ten years have passed since then.
I think of soldiering man
Who spent his hours dark in drink;
Breathing not, nor thinking wild
Since wine had passed about the room
In chug or mug or helmet case.
For I have never seen again
Those dear old friends,
Those soldier men
From Michigan and Maryland
And fifty places much like them.
They're erased!
As if I died or they;
Never to be here again at the day's long end,
By their long returned home chum;
Their once upon a time, dear friend.

Edward C. Patterson


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## Carol Hanrahan (Mar 31, 2009)

Very nice poem, Ed!  I am really enjoying your Wed. poetry treat!
My daughter had a school assignment last night where she took a poem, and using it's cadence, wrote another.  I was mystified at how wonderful her poem turned out!
So my hat's off to you!


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

Thanks Carol:

The rhythmic pattern method was invented by a famous poet, Marianne Moore, who believed that the first lines of a poem set a specified rhythm to be followed throughout the work. It was sort of the Schoenberg 12-tone row system for writing. The results, however, are far more lyrical than Wozzeck (Berg) or Moses and Aaron.

Edward C. Patterson


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## Brenda Carroll (May 21, 2009)

Gertie Kindle 'Turn to Page 390' said:


> Are you saying limericks are poetry?
> 
> You were born a "port?" I was born a chianti.


I like zinfandel (sp?), I liked it before I even knew I liked it, before I even knew how to spell it. Mortism. Hey, Edward, can we post poems on your thread or is it just for your poems? I have written some doozies. 
I was born a chablis
On a brook so babbly
I drink all day
All night I play
And I sleep in between in a caskee. LOL


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

Perhaps we can start an author's poetry corner? This thread I like to keep pristinely devoted to the poetry of The Closet Clandestine. 

Edward C. Patterson


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## Brenda Carroll (May 21, 2009)

edwpat said:


> Perhaps we can start an author's poetry corner? This thread I like to keep pristinely devoted to the poetry of The Closet Clandestine.
> 
> Edward C. Patterson


I see your point, Edward. After sleeping and reading the below poem, I totally agree.  But if we make a new thread, let's make it Limericks only.


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## Carol Hanrahan (Mar 31, 2009)

Spoiler



You guys would be using this a lot in your limericks, no?


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## Brenda Carroll (May 21, 2009)

Carol Hanrahan said:


> Spoiler
> 
> 
> 
> You guys would be using this a lot in your limericks, no?


Since I used to be a sailor and sing bawdy songs all night long whilst dramming me grog, I'm afraid so.


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

Okay Brendan, go for it. Limerick central has been opened.

http://www.kboards.com/index.php/topic,9439.msg179606.html#msg179606

Ed Patterson


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

Wednesday Poem, June 10th 2009 from The Closet Clandestine by Edward C. Patterson

_*A Night with Rimbaud*_

Ring me with young hearts, 
Songs green with remembrance, 
But not so green to be mowed. 
Scarlet hussies 
With laughter on their breath, 
And liquor too, 
For they know what I have forgotten 
And I need to know again.

Ring me with fiery youth, 
Dancing boys who know their stuff, 
Who know what I know, 
That life is invincible 
And infinite.

And when I whisper the truth to them, 
They laugh at my failing body, 
But laugh with my seeking soul 
And hold me fast to the lies of youth 
Which I need to remember 
In this life of infinite laughter.



Edward C. Patterson


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## Carol Hanrahan (Mar 31, 2009)

Another nice one, Ed!  And I really like the cover art!


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

Thanks, Carolyn. Me an Photoshop are old friends, and I knew that Swan personally — a swan of infinite grace and wisdom.  

Edward C. Patterson


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

Wednesday's Poem: 6/17/09 from The Closet Clandestine

*Atop the Twin Towers*

From the top of the world of man
Steel arched and graced by girder,
I see the river race,
The placid calm of the market of mammon,
Coming afar about the island's tip,
Seeking trade in cargos gold,
For precious agate, amber rare,
Through old Palmyra's gates,
Dawning over Hecatompolis.

Mighty mistress on the flow,
Raising high the towers two,
Receive the caravans of man.
Bactria sends the dragon steeds;
Silken skeins from Serica come,
Glass as precious as your steel
Weighed in balance oft' maintained
By the greatness of your name.

Honor in the holy trade
In unhampered, commerce free,
Has now come to they scepter's twain
And past unto your dynasty.

_Note: This Poem was written in 1976 and published in the Poet_

Edward C. Patterson


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## Carol Hanrahan (Mar 31, 2009)

Ed,
Your Wednesday poems always brighten the day!  1976 - well, I was so young.......!!!  Still am...........


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

Thank you Carolyn. I first saw the World Trade Center as a model in 1965 at the New York World's Fair. When I first started working, the area was known as the Washington Market. When I came back from the Army, it was built. What many people do not realize (and I walked through the WTC every day from the New Jersey Transit Lines (the PATH), that a strange piece of sidewalk graffiti appeared in the 1980's and millions walked across it daily. It read: "You are now standing on ground Zero." _Chilling_.

Edward C. Patterson


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## Susan in VA (Apr 3, 2009)

edwpat said:


> a strange piece of sidewalk graffiti appeared in the 1980's and millions walked across it daily. It read: "You are now standing on ground Zero." _Chilling_.


Seriously? You mean with spraypaint or something like that? How long was it there before it got cleaned up (or was it ever)? Is it known what the original meaning or intent of the phrase was?

If this was known to New Yorkers, then presumably that's what first inspired the use of that phrase after 2001. I never saw a reference to this in any news item, though. Interesting.


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

Susan, it was well known to any New Yorker who walked over the spot. The graffiti was indelible and was never cleaned up, and no one ever attached any particular meaning to it. No doubt that's the reason the name "ground zero" stuck. I always thought it was put there by this homeless man who also wrote poetry on the sidewalk cross the street at St. John's. The ground zero target was in plain white, said "Your are standing on ground zero" it was about 100 feet from a modern sculpture by Caulder and about 60 yards from the entrance to Barnes & Nobles. 

Edward C. Patterson


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## Susan in VA (Apr 3, 2009)

Chilling indeed.  I'd bet that most non-New Yorkers are not aware of this.


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## Meredith Sinclair (May 21, 2009)

Susan in VA said:


> Chilling indeed. I'd bet that most non-New Yorkers are not aware of this.


Yes indeed, I got a weird feeling in the pit of my tummy reading that.


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## Brenda Carroll (May 21, 2009)

Meredith Sinclair said:


> Yes indeed, I got a weird feeling in the pit of my tummy reading that.


I have to agree with Miss Merry, Ed. That's an awesome piece of news to me as well. It made have chills top of my head. Quite extraordinary. Surely someone has written of it (of course you have, your pardon) but I mean has anyone else wrote anything or investigated? I want to know... now!  This could lend a lot of credence to the idea that time is a constant Now and the past, present and future doesn't really exist.


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

I don;t know. I no longer work in new York and most of my colleagues have moved out of my life. My sister in law remembers it. There's just some things you remember, but I don;t think anyone has written about it. Nice thing to pursue, but I can;t even visit the site without quaking - that is, I cannot visit the site. Too many ghosts. The night after the towers fell, I (who lived in NJ t the time) woke up in the middle of the night and could feel the spirits in the air. I walked around in a stupor for a month. You see, I used to go to the WTC often - to the top, on the roof at lunch time. It was a marvel to me, and it was such a hub of life and commerce. I watched the towers fall on TV and have a difficult time even writing this. So, I'm the last person likely to pursue it. The closest I've come was to republish today's poem in The Closet Clandestine, and since that happened post 9/11, I needed to indicate that I wrote it in 1976. You see, despite the loss of life, American still hasnt really realized exactly what they lost on that day. We shall never be the same.

Edwrd C. Patterson
Pace in terra


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## Susan in VA (Apr 3, 2009)

Ed, I'm sorry if my questions caused you to think about something again that you'd rather keep out of conscious thought.  And had I known you were personally affected, I would certainly not have sent you the link to that Towers-related poem that my friend Kate wrote.  My apologies.


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

Susan, you need never apologize to me, not ever fer asking me a question. I am just not inclined to pursue a search fo documentation on the graffiti. which you did imply. But this is an open thread, so someone would come up with it sooner or later. My feelings run deep on many issues, but I will never repulse a readeer or a friend from engaging those feelings. After all, that's why I write, to share those feelings. I think I'm preaching to the choir as you are one of my readers and I hope tht you feel the pulse of all my characters. 

Ed P

Didyou email me that link? I don;t believe I got it and would surely want to read the poem.


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## Susan in VA (Apr 3, 2009)

The pulse of your characters is indeed strong; so far every one of them seems amazingly "real".  I'll be returning to Book Two tonight, and as usual, reading until the next "spooky" part when I have to put it down until daylight.      


I think I posted the poem link here on KB, and you did read it and comment on it.  It's been a while, though.


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

Ah, The Third Peregrination is spookier than The Jade Owl, but my readers have told me that they loved it better. But I vill nicht spoil it fer yer.

Ed


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## Susan in VA (Apr 3, 2009)

Spookier?!? Uh-oh... It will take me much longer to read, then. I don't do spooky late at night. Have to read those parts when they won't give me dreams.

See, that was the only reason I started _Idolater_ when I did. I had reached the first spooky part in Book Two, but wasn't tired yet. 

Instead, _Idolater_ just brought back lots of memories. I swear that Kurt guy ran a movie theatre in Germany in the 70's, and I worked for him. Or maybe there are that many creeps like that... <shudder>


----------



## Meredith Sinclair (May 21, 2009)

Susan in VA said:


> Spookier?!? Uh-oh... It will take me much longer to read, then. I don't do spooky late at night. Have to read those parts when they won't give me dreams.
> 
> See, that was the only reason I started _Idolater_ when I did. I had reached the first spooky part in Book Two, but wasn't tired yet.
> 
> Instead, _Idolater_ just brought back lots of memories. I swear that Kurt guy ran a movie theatre in Germany in the 70's, and I worked for him. Or maybe there are that many creeps like that... <shudder>


Susan,
I am very much the same, if my hubby is not home, I dare not pick up a scary book... Freaks me out, I start hearing all sorts of creepy noises... and when he is gone I ask my girl if she would like to sleep with me... for _her_ comfort of course!


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

Well, usan, maybe spookier isn;t the word for it. More paranormal than The Jade Owl, in that the stakes are higher. Also we get to China outside the hotels in more deeply into "people places." 

Ed P


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## Susan in VA (Apr 3, 2009)

edwpat said:


> maybe spookier isn;t the word for it. More paranormal


Kinda the same thing to me.... I'm not usually a fan of weird inexplicable creepy stuff. I don't read King's books (one and a half were more than enough for me) and I don't watch horror movies of any sort. And I thought that the first basement scene in Book Two was _plenty_ spooky by my standards! (What can I say, I'm a wimp.)


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

Susan:

No fear. I'm no way as bizarre as King. I admire his writing stype (at times) and he's a mentor with technique, but I always ground my spooky into the characters, so the reader is never alone or abandonned.

Edward C. Patterson


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## Susan in VA (Apr 3, 2009)

Edward C. Patterson said:


> but I always ground my spooky into the characters, so the reader is never alone or abandonned.


I had to think about that... Do you mean that when it's a character that seems to embody spooky/creeepy qualities, it's not as disturbing to the reader as when the spookiness is just a disembodied part of the action? Now that I think about it, it makes perfect sense, but I had never even considered there might be a difference, and that this might be an intentional technique on a writer's part. Guess that's why I'm not an author. (Well, one of many reasons.  )


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

Wednesday Poem - June 24, 2009 from *The Closet Clandestine - a queer steps out*

*Write Me a Song *  ​
*Write me a song without cadence, 
Free to blow where I will. 
Wanton verses, blank and wind swept; 
Then, carry my home to my sleep.

Write me a song that lingers, 
Like the vale of a comet's path; 
A melody spinning golden yarn 
From morning to bedtime prayers.

Write me a gay song to sing to the world, 
A song so sweet they will hear, 
Proclaiming the love they would have us denied, 
But on hearing they'd melt and sigh.

Write me a song for my fallen, 
A song filled with hope for our fears; 
One overlade with comfort; 
One that will catch all our tears.

Write me a song to march to 
As I proclaim to the world 
The fire I know refined in the glow 
And I'll walk with my pride, 
Comrades at my side; 
And they'll know, 
When you write me that song. *

*Edward C. Patterson*


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## Carol Hanrahan (Mar 31, 2009)

Ed,
Thanks for another great poem!  Wed. already!


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

Ja Ja ist Odin's day.

Thanks Carol

Ed P


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

Wednesday Poem for July 1, 2009 - from The Closet Clandestine

*Romeo*

*Village scamp, who roams Verona's hearth, 
Brimming laughter and prankish spark, 
Living life as a lover's lark; 
Dear youth, who never wished to fall 
For quarrel's blight; 
Sapling fair, who filtered Juliet's hair 
And held hilt on Mercutio's sword, 
Filled you were on balcony pride, 
But caused a crimson tide 
To spill about your teens. 
Sorrow was never yours to know, 
For in your dying breath's release, 
You meant to meet your love again 
In youthful camps of green.

Now from the graves of martyred pair, 
Sobs Capulet and Montague arise, 
For 'neath their callous, jealous pain, 
Fair youth by old age has been slain. 
But whenever there is youth's affection, 
There be our Romeo's resurrection. *

Edward C. Patterson


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## Carol Hanrahan (Mar 31, 2009)

Ed,
Do you just have the one poetry book?
I do enjoy your Wed. poems.


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

I have two.

The Closet Clandestine - a queer steps out which has 190 poems in it.

and

Come, Wewoka & Diary of Medicine Flower which had poems from the Trail of Tear and also some Cherokee prose wisdom

Thank you
Edward C. Patterson


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## cat616 (Nov 4, 2008)

Ed, I could not resist purchasing







.

My Great-Grandfather claimed to be half Cherokee, but then again he also claimed to have fought with the Roughriders and I can't find his name on those lists. I find Native American Culture fascinating, it is one of those things that I feel a visceral connection to. Maybe there is some truth to Great-Gandpa's claims after all.


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

Thank you Cat. I hope you enjoy it.

Edward C. Patterson
(Nv-wo-di A-ge-lv s-gi)
Medicine Flower


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

Wednesday's Poem (7/8/09) - from the Closet Clanestine

*They Crowd the Sky*

They crowd the sky, the birds,
Each trying to find a domain spot
Above the pines, their circling lot
Squaring out their own -
Their little territory
Claimed by none but birds.

If chance another feather mussed
The air in hapless accident
Within the circle charted,
He'd be ignored for errant claim,
But pecked and clawed for truancy
Until he passed away.

And thus they scrap and caw all day
Until the world is won.
And they may selfish dominate
And Empires begun,
Which spreads from where the orb does rise
To where there sets the sun.

But, give them just one autumn rain;
One winter calling fate
And every selfish winger
Charges forth: evacuate.

So, what are all these ravings for,
These petty sins in herds,
For when the snow sounds clarion's call,
They crowd the sky - the birds.

Edward C. Patterson


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

I was sick Yesterday and missed Wednesday's Poetry entry, but here it is late. It is given in honor of my new book (as it is on the same subject) Look Away Silence

*Ties and Rings*

_for my fallen _

Here you are 
Sewn into this quilt, 
My love, my own, my world . . . 
A part of this huge monument, 
This memorial to shame, 
Stretched out beneath all memorials to shame.

I spelled your name with your old ties. 
See there, the purple one -
That ugly, hideous purple tie. 
When you would wear it I would laugh 
And you would punch me. 
And there, the crimson one; 
The rich, creamy crimson one I bought you 
And loved to see you wear. 
I tied the knot myself and slipped it to your chin and kissed your cheek 
The day you went on that job interview. 
You got the job, 
And that evening we went to dinner and got drunk; 
Came back and made love all night long... 
So, I go to my knees before this quilt 
And from my pocket retrieve a needle, two rings and more thread 
And complete this work, 
Sewing the symbols of our holy love and life together 
On to that ugly, purple tie, 
So the world will know I am forever tied to you.

Yet, I feel the shame. 
Was I quiet in our plight? 
Did I speak less than I might? 
For with life there are no sequels, 
And we all know what silence equals.

_Washington, Oct. 1992_


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

Wednesday Poem, July 29, 2009 from The Closet Clandestine by Edward C. Patterson
===============================================================

*When the Voices Come  * ​
When the voices come to me at evening, 
When I least expect, they say: 
"We are all still with you. 
Come away, oh come away."

They steal my mind to faces, 
Smiles of angels in the dusk,
Angels to protect me 
As I lulled them off to sleep, 
Saying to them, "go before me 
Clear the way, oh clear the way."

And when I hear the voices, 
I am stirred into an action 
And cannot lose another 
To the fire of this thing. 
So, I sing all their songs for them, 
Every hour of every day. 
Ribboned chants of "mark my say" 
_Forget-me-not_ tunes of "lead the way."

Edward C. Patterson
who thus wrote Look Away Silence, a _forget-me-not_ work so we will never forget them.


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## Carol Hanrahan (Mar 31, 2009)

Ed,

I have enjoyed these poems you give us each Wed.
Ties and Rings did it.  I'm off to 1-click!


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

Thanks Carol. The Closet landestine never sells, which supports the concept that Poetry is a labor of love. 

Thanks   This might me the month where I've sold at least one copy of my 13 books. (Come, Wewoka manages at least 1 a month)

Edward C. Patterson


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

Wednesday Poem (a day late - busy, busy). From The Closset Clandestine, a treasury of 180 poems. With all the political shennanigans ongoing and the Nazi media implosion typical of FOX News, I thought this old poem was apropos:

*Masse Politicus *   
Election time; op' up the flue.
_Kyrie eleison. _ 
Graft their histories personal 
Into contexts never meant 
To hold more sin than common.

A faction in the twelve; 
Contracts signed by Pharisees, 
Briars of judicial say, 
In anterooms of stealth. 
_Dona nobis pacem._

Follies fly against the tide; 
Kingfishers swoop to catch their prey; 
Lords of tree and shore alike, 
Patroons of the water locks, 
Gates precluding truth.

They clot here for a brace of years, 
Feathers nesting for their kin, 
Until the clouds bring forth the rain 
And it's election time again; 
Then the villains don array 
And tell us they are _agnus dei._


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## Brenda Carroll (May 21, 2009)

As you might know, Edward, I am a fan of Fox News and I love conspiracy theories... all of them, but I do believe that you were napping on a rath when you composed this one.  Yikes!  Love the play on words and the image it brings to mind:  Huge cathedral, one beautiful voice ringing out in the great space, rising to the rafters.  Gives me chills to imagine it.  I'm a great fan of Mozart's religious works.  And you know what a little rogue he was.  I'm sure he would have loved this one and set it to music for the Archbishop of Salzburg!


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

When I'm home in NJ my father had


Spoiler



Fux


 News blaring all the time and I want to slit my wrists. So much so that I now keep my own TV off for the most part and rely principally n my download NY Times. Of conspiracy theories, I believe that the media in the US today has taken their cue from the Japanese during the WWII. Although being a Sinologist, I recognize this breed to propaganda through Xin Hua, the People's news organ (and organ it is). BTW, Xin Hua in Mandarin means, New Speak, shades of Orwell, and no kiddin'. As for this poem, I looked more to my poetic mentor, W.S. Gilbert than Mozart, _Ave verum_.

Edward Cliffe Patterson


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## Brenda Carroll (May 21, 2009)

Edward C. Patterson said:


> When I'm home in NJ my father had
> 
> 
> Spoiler
> ...


Errr, ahhh, is that a typo or your subconscious showing, Edward?


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

We shall never know, will we?


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## Carol Hanrahan (Mar 31, 2009)

Ed?
<a little elbow in the side...>


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

Just recieved an elbow on a Thursday - so her'es the Wednesday poem fron The Closet Clandestine (180 poems in one place) by Edward C. Patterson

A New Life Together

A new life together they began, the boys, 
Without a care for the commentary, 
The


Spoiler



bullshit


 lies floating on lakes of appeal. 
They just did it. 
No money, no livings; 
Just love to guide them 
And the star of a poet to mend the way.

Magnets pull at these, 
Lovers wanting and knowing, but feeling by rote 
And learning by pain, 
Not unlike all lovers now and since 
Despite their congruent counterpane. 
Yet, somehow beyond the shout, 
Beyond the tricks they need for cash, 
They still love each other truly, 
'though distanced by the world.

Now they cross the broom, 
Throw their teens away, 
Much wiser, but too late, 
Love worn to a hopeful heart stir,
Yet, there for each other always 
As they start a new life apart.

Edward C. Patterson


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

Late again. Wednesday Poem for August 20th (wow the month is flying) from The Closet Clandestine

*When the Half of Us is Gone * 

*When the half of us is gone 
In the morning's filtered light 
The love wake of his heart 
Keeps me fast this day. 
And I have no illusions 
As he has no illusions of my weakness;
Of my power; 
Of my book and my bouquet.

I long in those dim hours 
To be whole again as we had begun; 
To be solid and not water falling 
Broke by separation. 
His picture graces blotter,
Mind pictures every hour 
Until the clock's door opens 
And I can edge toward home.

Home aromas, 
Baking pie, 
After-shave and laundry strewn, 
His hair spray and the tender touch 
The most precious hymn of all to hear. 
Simply: "I am home again, dear." *

Edward C. Patterson


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

Does anyne else have a poetry book on there for sale?

Edward C. Patterson


----------



## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

This collection contains 190 poems in 7 books and is quite a bargain, if I must say so myself.

Edward C. Patterson


----------



## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

This collection of 180 poems (200 pages worth) first appeared in 1990 as *The Best Part of Me*.

Edward C. Patterson


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

The last section of this 7 book collection, called *Songs: Not Just Survival* was written at the Tampa Gay & Lesbian Choral Festival where I met Maya Anjelou, who served as a rhythmic inspiration for the book.

Ed Patterson


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

*I'm a Jersey Poet*

I'm a Jersey Poet now,
Caught in the blast of a Monmouth breeze,
Kept by Hopatcong,
Swept by the dells;
Meadows and pleasures nearby all my life
Known only now since my secret rebirth.

Cupped by the gentle down by the pool,
My appetite whets on the edge of the dunes,
From Brielle to Sussex, from deep Essex Fells,
I hear the new song of a people in me,
Who whisper the secrets behind the sweet bogs,
And shout on the virtues from Hook-line to Gap;
That a new day has dawned for an urban plagued man,
Who was raised under brick in the Empire's lap.

So, I'll pipe the flute silly
On my careless find
As a new Jersey poet
Leaving Gotham behind.

Edward C. Patterson​


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

This is my Premium Book of Poetry - 180 pieces. That's 3 cents a poem.  

Edward C. Patterson


----------



## Betsy the Quilter (Oct 27, 2008)

Ed, I'm looking for a Bargain Basement Book of Poetry. Got any?  

Betsy


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

Well, my favoite poetry *IS* bargain basement. That would be from the great lady of Amherst, herself, and since I sell vey few volumes of my poetry (poetry just doesn't attract the crowds, you know, unless it's "beans, n]beans, the musical fruit), I'll hijack my own thread and plug her poetry here.











*$ .99*

Edward C. Patterson


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

This book is a labor of love and passion, because poetry doesn;t sell. Unless . . . 


Ed Patterson


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

The true learning cruve for an author is their ability to write poetry. If your prose doesn;t sparkle, it's because your poetry sucks toadstools. I'm proud to say that my poetry stands with the best of them - and I sell as much . . . NOT. Be brave. Come read a poem today, or maybe 180.  

Ed Patterson

"Novels sell like vintage wine,
While poetry, like raisins, dry on the vine."


----------



## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

Happy Holidays for all you Poetry lovers out there, and also Thanks to the over 100 readers who downloaded *Come, Wewoka * yesterday.


----------



## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

*A Holiday Cyber Special for One-Week Only (12/2/09 to 12/09/09)

The Closet Clandestine
Seven Books of Verse 
by Edward C. Patterson

FREE at Smashwords
http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/94
use Coupon Code YL39Z*​
Enjoy


----------



## angel_b (Nov 18, 2009)

Awesome, Edward. I don't read poetry at all but will download this and give it a try.


----------



## Carol Hanrahan (Mar 31, 2009)

I bought this awhile back, after Ed posted some of the poems.  I thought they were wonderful!  Too bad more people aren't into poetry...


----------



## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

Thank you Carol. This set of poetry (200 pages of it) was collected under the title *The Best Part of Me * and available on the web in variuos formats since the early 1990's. It was always popular. I'm delighted you enjoy them.

Ed Patterson


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## Carol Hanrahan (Mar 31, 2009)

Ed, did you read Harvey's daughter's poem?
He posted it over in the Not Quite Kindle section.


----------



## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

Carol:

I couldn't find it. Could you link me up?

Thanks
Ed P


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## Ann in Arlington (Oct 27, 2008)

Edward C. Patterson said:


> I couldn't find it. Could you link me up?
> 
> Ed P


http://www.kboards.com/index.php/topic,16263.0.html


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## Carol Hanrahan (Mar 31, 2009)

Ann beat me too it.  Not that I COULD have linked it - I would have tried.....


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

A very beautiful poem.

Ed Patterson


----------



## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

FREE Offer ends tomorrow. ome get your copy. 200 pages of poetry, but not just your run of the mill stuff - I promise you.

Ed Patterson


----------



## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

Price reduced to $ .99 on *The Closet Clandestine*

Ed Patterson

And a timely 5-star review:

Review by: Sharon E. Cathcart on Jan. 05, 2010 : 
As always, Ed Patterson's poetry is outstanding for its vocabulary and meter. I liked some poems better than others, but that is frequently the case with an epic anthology of this sort. I found Ed's treatment of issues surrounding "coming out" to be very sensitive.

Not for younger readers due to subject matter and occasional vulgar language.


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

from Supense from Anne

http://suspensebyanne.blogspot.com/2009/11/operation-ebook-drop-show-your-support.html

Ed Patterson


----------



## jrluzader (Jan 7, 2010)

Hey Ed,

I'm glad I found this thread.  I've been looking for a new book of poetry to grab.  I'll plan on grabbing this as soon as my kindle 2 replacement comes in (my screen broke today-- talk about worse day ever, right?).


I found your comment about the importance of being a good poet if you want to write good prose very interesting.  In my own experience, the two skill sets have always seemed somewhat separate, but I will admit that being able to write with clarity of idea (as is necessary for good poetry) does come in handy when writing prose.

Anyway, it is refreshing to find another poet on the board.  I have been feeling cut of from the poetry world since I left my writers' group when I graduated last spring.  I'm hoping that reading the fresh works I find here can keep me going until I (hopefully) start work on my MFA in the fall (tmi?).

Ultra thanks,

Justin


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

Thank you jrluzader:

One of the finest poets of all times is Charles Dickens, nd his poetry sings in his prose. I will often create a word in prose which sings poetic and return later to thrash around for the correct word to match the "sound and sense." To engage the reader's mind, all you need is "the facts, m'am - the fact." But to engage their soul, you need poetry, something that whispers in their ear and coaxes them into the character beyond the usual "blah, blah, blah." I have come across wonderful stretches of poetry in tephen king, believe it or not - passages that hug you and spit you out on the other side . . . changed.

Edward C. Patterson


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

I should write more poetry and publish them, I should. So many words and not enough time - but the volume offered here, has 7 of my 8 Poetry volumes under one head. 

Ed Patterson


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

"Got Poems?"

Ed Patterson


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## Carol Hanrahan (Mar 31, 2009)

Been reading some of these poems.  last night.
Yesterday I bought A Shropshire Lad and read some of it.  Then I read some of The Closet Clandestine.
The wonderful thing about poetry is:  it's there for you when you need it!

Ed, I just love your poetry.  Are you writing any more?  You should be!


----------



## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

Well, thank you Carol. Of course, there's always Come, Wewoka, but I haven;t written anymore poetry except for verses in my novels where appropriate. I believe strongly that poetry should nestle beneath prose into order to kidnle a readers soul as well as their mind, so you'll find a poetic spirit in almost everything I write.

Thans again

Ed Patterson


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

I'm not adverse to verse.  

Edward C. Patterson


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

This is the last word in poetry.

Ed Patterson


----------



## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

Somebody in the Book Corner called for Poetry. Here's Mine.

Ed Patterson


----------



## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

Like a whale, my poetry has come up for air. 



Ed Patterson


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## RonnellDPorter (Apr 20, 2010)

Wow. I ROFL'd hard just at the title. I don't read into poetry but I might have to take a gander into this one.


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

Try it, you'll like it.  

Ed Patterson


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

There was a call for poetry last week. Well here is 190 pages of prime, grade A Patterson poems.

Ed Patterson


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

Some people say - Poetry, yuck! However, I've been told that these poems will convert ya! I don;t know. They converted me.

Edward C. Patterson


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

I've been writing poetry since age 12, and one of those poems is in this collection. However, mostly these date from 1975 - present.

Edward C. Patteson


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

One of favorite Chaptbook is the Provincetown Poems - nice for reading on the porch at any beach your hiney sits.

Edward C. Patterson


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

Do you like my cover, even if you hate poetry? I knew the bird personally.  

Ed Patterson


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

No one answered my question and it's been a week. Hmmm. Everyone hates the cover. Well, even the cover chases the poetry in the soul away, eh?  

Edward C. Patterson


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

Lots of verse here. Lots of my radical views too.  

Ed Patterson


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

Adopt a poem today - here's 190 of them.

Edward C. Patterson


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

It's that time of the week when the Poetry's pumped.

Edward C. Patterson
Long Live Robert Herrick, my ancestor
(whoops - he's dead)


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

*Autumn Ride *

We view the world from a closed cab,
Drawn by a simple steed; 
The world, in fall, sees us not, 
For he and I are wrapped in arms, 
Cheering the love we share - 
A love beyond compare.

There is a world in the bronze cathedral 
With steeples and stacks -
Gables and gardens - 
And as the carriage clops the stones below, 
The wind's tale wings the maple's clothes 
Into the lap, like a prayer book.

There is a hymn on the leaf of gold - 
With stanzas and clefs - 
Chords and chorales; 
As we read the veins and the crackling tips, 
The fox nips at the horse's hooves, 
While a cricket makes home in a leaf pile. ​
*Come read more in The Closet Clandestine
Edward C. Patterson*


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

Poetry flows in my veins. I am a descendamt of Robert Herrick, the famous British poet and when members of my family compare their poetic inventions, they have a particular stamp, and reflect our ancestor lock, stock and rhythm.

Ed Patterson


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

Poetry from Patterson (lots of it)

Ed Patterson


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## Guest (Aug 31, 2010)

Are they the kind of poems that rhyme Ed?  or is it the other kind?


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

Some rhyme. And some are the other kind. There's 188 of them.


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## Guest (Aug 31, 2010)

lmao  ED  you are a riot!


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

I save most of my poetry for my prose, but when I am my most passionate and my most ribald, I break into verse. I am of the opinion that an author who cannot write poetry only skims the edges of a reader's soul. Those that do, dances away with a reader to the 2 am rondevouz that keeps the impassioned away from their slumbers.

Ed Patterson


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

a poem I wrote in the seventies and published in 1976 and is now included in _*The Closet Clandestine*_.

*Atop the Twin Towers*​
by Edward C. Patterson

From the top of the world of man
Steel arched and graced by girder,
I see the river race,
The placid calm of the market of mammon,
Coming afar about the island's tip,
Seeking trade in cargos gold,
For precious agate, amber rare,
Through old Palmyra's gates,
Dawning over Hecatompolis.

Mighty mistress on the flow,
Raising high the towers two,
Receive the caravans of man.
Bactria sends the dragon steeds;
Silken skeins from Serica come,
Glass as precious as your steel
Weighed in balance oft' maintained
By the greatness of your name.

Honor in the holy trade
In unhampered, commerce free,
Has now come to they scepter's twain
And past unto your dynasty.​
*Note: This Poem was written in 1976 and published in the Poet*


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## vminniti (Aug 26, 2010)

Looks awesome, very best to you!


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

Life without Poetry is PROSE.

Edward C. Patterson


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

My poetry is a tad different as I am a decesendant of obert Herrick.

Edward C. Patterson


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

here's a sample

*I've Made Acquaintances in My Time

I've made acquaintances in my time,
Serviced in Franconia's keep;
Far from home in country's want,
Lost in reverie's gilded days.
Good friends were they
Lost in reverie's gilded days.
They drank in solace with my shade,
Minds were cast across the sea
As if in some dim middle passage
Returned we home as mere debris.
We.
Cognac spun us
Over midnight's candle
Chirping drunk about the roofs,
Like Maryland and Michigan and Breukelen,
Wafting smoke in waking cheer.
Glasses lifted; hearts endeared.
We.
Hours passed apace -
Day on day, sec' on sec',
Time mounts as power 'til old timers we,
Bottling friendships on the cupboard shelf.
We.
Who then are we, as time spends its golden sheen
Into the wind's cold chalice.
Ten years have passed since then.
I think of soldiering man
Who spent his hours dark in drink;
Breathing not, nor thinking wild
Since wine had passed about the room
In chug or mug or helmet case.
For I have never seen again
Those dear old friends,
Those soldier men
From Michigan and Maryland
And fifty places much like them.
They're erased!
As if I died or they;
Never to be here again at the day's long end,
By their long returned home chum;
Their once upon a time, dear friend.*​
Edward C. Patterson


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

At the base of all good writing is . . . poetry. Come sample the source.

Edward C. Patterson


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

Here's an excerpt _*The Closet Clandestine*_, from the chapbook, _Ties and Rings_

*Ties and Rings*
_for my fallen _

Here you are 
Sewn into this quilt, 
My love, my own, my world . . . 
A part of this huge monument, 
This memorial to shame, 
Stretched out beneath all memorials to shame.

I spelled your name with your old ties. 
See there, the purple one -
That ugly, hideous purple tie. 
When you would wear it I would laugh 
And you would punch me. 
And there, the crimson one; 
The rich, creamy crimson one I bought you 
And loved to see you wear. 
I tied the knot myself and slipped it to your chin and kissed your cheek 
The day you went on that job interview. 
You got the job, 
And that evening we went to dinner and got drunk; 
Came back and made love all night long... 
So, I go to my knees before this quilt 
And from my pocket retrieve a needle, two rings and more thread 
And complete this work, 
Sewing the symbols of our holy love and life together 
On to that ugly, purple tie, 
So the world will know I am forever tied to you.

Yet, I feel the shame. 
Was I quiet in our plight? 
Did I speak less than I might? 
For with life there are no sequels, 
And we all know what silence equals.

_Washington, Oct. 1992_

Edward C. Patterson


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

This collection has 180 poems set in 7 separate chapbooks. 

Edward C. Patterson


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

What happens when a poet turns to prose? Well, he sells books. But the poetry behind the craft still stands untarnished, so why not get yourself a big handful of verse and challenge your New Year with the secrets of the closet.

Edward C. Patterson


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

There are many kinds of closets, but the only way to truly feel them is through verse.

Edward C. Patterson


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## Carol Hanrahan (Mar 31, 2009)

I bought this after you posted one of your poems, Ed.  I just love your poems!  They give me goosebumps!


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

Thank you, Carol. I believe that a the base of all authoring stands a mastery of poetic form.

Edward C. Patterson


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

Here's an excerpt from _*The Closet Clandestine*_
*Tarawa*

Rat-tat-tat-tat, 
A children's game, 
Behind the ash cans and over stoop. 
Zoom! On bicycle Fokker D's
They swoop on the peak-a-boo enemies. 
A ten year old is Johnny now, 
And as I rove in my silent haunt, 
I see him hide from plastic guns 
Reveling in the glory of the fight. 
Rat-tat-tat-tat!

I sit on the ledge and watch their war. 
Their squealing bleats and bubbling twangs. 
I shake my head at Johnny's hope 
And a lump in my ghostly throat gives up 
A quiver for my son. 
It's been ten years 
Since the world came to the brink, 
The holy war I fought, 
Yet it seems just yesterday 
When I upon the mortars play, 
Fell beneath the banyan tree 
And wept for three long days.

Mary Lou, help! 
Where in the field of golden autumn elms 
Is the balm that soothed my childhood days 
Into the rays of manhood's sun, 
Those autumn elms could tell. 
They never found my bones; 
My headstone's but a memory - 
A banyan tree; a twisted monster, 
Who craves my soul and tears my heart. 
Each vein entwines 
Laughing the whole long while.

Mary Lou why? 
Why do I sit here now, 
While you're away to work 
And our little son's a foot-loose scamp 
Playing the game my childhood knew, 
But my manhood killed 
And the elms could tell, 
The tarnished gold of autumn piles. 
Mary Lou, why?"

And it weeps, 
The Banyan that has been me. 
It laughs at times for the more-of-me 
To finish the game 
And don the stripes and find my bones - 
Rat-tat-tat-tat!!


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

There has been a call for poetry lately here at KB. Well, here you go. 180 pieces for ninety-nine cents. How much is that by the pound.

Edward C. Patterson


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

My Fifth Published Book.

Edward C. Patterson


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

Week 3 of the Smashword summer FREE sale.

http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/EdwardCPatterson for list of books. For this one use code SSWSF for FREE copy.

Edward C. Patterson


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

Coming into the stretch on the Smashword's Sale on this book (FREE).

http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/EdwardCPatterson for list of books. For this one use code SSWSF for FREE copy.

Edward C. Patterson


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

The Poetry your Mama warned you about.  

Edward C. Patterson


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

This is the Poetry that your Mom warned you about.

Edward C. Patterson


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

I believe that all authors need to be grounded in poetry if they are to understand the _craft of words_.

Edward C. Patterson


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

Come Out, Come Out where ever you are . . . Kansas she says is the name of her star.

Edward C. Patterson


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

This is the poetry your parent told you to avoid.     Deep in the soul, but high in the hand.

Edward C. Patterson


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

Hurrah for National Poetry Month

Edward C. Patterson


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## Gertie Kindle (Nov 6, 2008)

Edward C. Patterson said:


> Hurrah for National Poetry Month
> 
> Edward C. Patterson


Thanks for the warning, Ed. I shall be on my guard for stray bits of verse that might attack my sensitive ears.

For those of you who don't know, poetry puts me to sleep.


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

There once an author named Gertie,
Who found _ars _ poesy unsturdy,
She'd made up her mind,
To the fires consign,
All verse, both precise and the wordy,
Even those sung by the birdie.

(Please tweat and retweat) 

Thanks Gertie
Edward C. Patterson


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

'tis the poetry you folks warned you not to read.    

Edward C. Patterson


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

Provincetown Poems is part of The Clset Clandestine - a Chapbooks.

Edward C. Patterson


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

The Closet Clandestine - 7 Chapbooks

Edward C. Patterson


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

Includes The Festival at Thebes and 6 other Chapbooks

Edward C. Patterson


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

The Awakening
Catherine and Other Poems
The Festival at Thebes
Ties and Rings
Gay October
Provincetown Poems
Songs: Not Just Survival

Edward C. Patterson


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

Includes Songs, Not Just Survival and Provincetown Poems

Edward C. Patterson


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

The Closet Clandestine: June is Gay Pride Month and these Show me Ever Proud

Edward C. Patterson


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

from Songs: Not Just Survival

*When We are All Free *

When we are all free, 
I'll sleep the sleep of freedom; 
And not before. 
The mist cloaks dark beauty, 
Fires lit by fairies on the bar 
Leading freedom's ferry into night's stealth. 
I will sleep the sleep 
When the lover's creed becomes law 
And men and womyn can call each other 
By a lover's law;
A law writ' by living angels,
Who know the sleep of freedom 
And stay awake to guide us, 
Holding high the lantern, 
Showing us the way 
To our rightful rest. 
Then, I'll sleep the sleep of freedom; 
And not before.

Edward C. Patterson


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

*FREE Today and Tomorrow September 13th and 14th at Amazon**
The Closet Clandestine:a queer steps out
by
Edward C. Patterson

A Journey from the Darkness Into the Light

*​*

The closet is a dark and airless place, so when I emerged from it, what else could I do but extol truth's glory over systemic lies - life's beauty in its infinite variety over societal servitude in its deafening prejudice.

The Closet Clandestine is a paean to existance beyond the closet - seven peans, in fact - chapbooks dedicated to my OUTbound journey. Sensitive, bold, Gay and sometimes shocking, these are the lyrics of my journey from darkness to twilight to sunshine.

Included - seven chapbooks:

The Awakening
Catherine and Other Poems
The Festival at Thebes
Ties and Rings
Gay October
Provincetown Poems, and 
Songs: Not Just Survival.

"Rage girls in fiery green - that I will never retreat into the closet clandestine again."
198 pages

Edward C. Patterson
*


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

*FREE Today and Tomorrow October 24th and 25th at Amazon **
The Closet Clandestine:a queer steps out
by
Edward C. Patterson

A Journey from the Darkness Into the Light

*​*

The closet is a dark and airless place, so when I emerged from it, what else could I do but extol truth's glory over systemic lies - life's beauty in its infinite variety over societal servitude in its deafening prejudice.

The Closet Clandestine is a paean to existance beyond the closet - seven peans, in fact - chapbooks dedicated to my OUTbound journey. Sensitive, bold, Gay and sometimes shocking, these are the lyrics of my journey from darkness to twilight to sunshine.

Included - seven chapbooks:

The Awakening
Catherine and Other Poems
The Festival at Thebes
Ties and Rings
Gay October
Provincetown Poems, and 
Songs: Not Just Survival.

"Rage girls in fiery green - that I will never retreat into the closet clandestine again."
198 pages

Edward C. Patterson
*


----------



## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

*FREE Today ONLY November 12th at Amazon **
The Closet Clandestine:a queer steps out
by
Edward C. Patterson

A Journey from the Darkness Into the Light

*​*

The closet is a dark and airless place, so when I emerged from it, what else could I do but extol truth's glory over systemic lies - life's beauty in its infinite variety over societal servitude in its deafening prejudice.

The Closet Clandestine is a paean to existance beyond the closet - seven peans, in fact - chapbooks dedicated to my OUTbound journey. Sensitive, bold, Gay and sometimes shocking, these are the lyrics of my journey from darkness to twilight to sunshine.

Included - seven chapbooks:

The Awakening
Catherine and Other Poems
The Festival at Thebes
Ties and Rings
Gay October
Provincetown Poems, and 
Songs: Not Just Survival.

from Songs: Not Just Survival

A Night with Rimbaud
--------------------
for Anthony

Ring me with young hearts, 
Songs green with remembrance, 
But not so green to be mowed. 
Scarlet hussies 
With laughter on their breath, 
And liquor too, 
For they know what I have forgotten 
And I need to know again.

Ring me with fiery youth, 
Dancing boys who know their stuff, 
Who know what I know, 
That life is invincible 
And infinite. 
And when I whisper the truth to them, 
They laugh at my failing body, 
But laugh with my seeking soul 
And hold me fast to the lies of youth 
Which I need to remember 
In this life of infinite laughter.

198 pages

Edward C. Patterson
*


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

*FREE Today and Tomorrow December 17th and 18th at Amazon**
The Closet Clandestine:a queer steps out
by
Edward C. Patterson

A Journey from the Darkness Into the Light

*​*

The closet is a dark and airless place, so when I emerged from it, what else could I do but extol truth's glory over systemic lies - life's beauty in its infinite variety over societal servitude in its deafening prejudice.

The Closet Clandestine is a paean to existance beyond the closet - seven peans, in fact - chapbooks dedicated to my OUTbound journey. Sensitive, bold, Gay and sometimes shocking, these are the lyrics of my journey from darkness to twilight to sunshine.

Included - seven chapbooks:

The Awakening
Catherine and Other Poems
The Festival at Thebes
Ties and Rings
Gay October
Provincetown Poems, and 
Songs: Not Just Survival.

from Songs: Not Just Survival

Write Me a Song 
---------------

Write me a song without cadence, 
Free to blow where I will. 
Wanton verses, blank and wind swept; 
Then, carry my home to my sleep.

Write me a song that lingers, 
Like the vale of a comet's path; 
A melody spinning golden yarn 
From morning to bedtime prayers.

Write me a gay song to sing to the world, 
A song so sweet they will hear, 
Proclaiming the love they would have us denied, 
But on hearing they'd melt and sigh.

Write me a song for my fallen, 
A song filled with hope for our fears; 
One overlade with comfort; 
One that will catch all our tears.

Write me a song to march to 
As I proclaim to the world 
The fire I know refined in the glow 
And I'll walk with my pride, 
Comrades at my side; 
And they'll know, 
When you write me that song. 
----------------------------

198 pages

Edward C. Patterson
*


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

*FREE Today and Tomorrow January 21st & 22nd at Amazon**
The Closet Clandestine:a queer steps out
by
Edward C. Patterson

A Journey from the Darkness Into the Light

*​*

The closet is a dark and airless place, so when I emerged from it, what else could I do but extol truth's glory over systemic lies - life's beauty in its infinite variety over societal servitude in its deafening prejudice.

The Closet Clandestine is a paean to existance beyond the closet - seven peans, in fact - chapbooks dedicated to my OUTbound journey. Sensitive, bold, Gay and sometimes shocking, these are the lyrics of my journey from darkness to twilight to sunshine.

Included - seven chapbooks:

The Awakening
Catherine and Other Poems
The Festival at Thebes
Ties and Rings
Gay October
Provincetown Poems, and 
Songs: Not Just Survival.

from Catherine and Other Poems

Catherine
---------

Tears trickle down her canyon cheeks from waning eyes; 
Eyes knowing; yet, blind to why. 
Wind fashioned eyes, brown as hair; 
Grey'd by grief. 
No solace found in well drawn salty brine, 
For, Kate and endless sorrow are old friends. 
Life's end dims her; the raging flees.

Oaks give up their leaves as golden harvest to dust - 
A whirling dust, voiding dreams, 
Careless thoughts; bartered woes. 
Boughs burst resigned to mulch the earth.

The wind within her balks, 
A pass, a dim defile blocked by fact's anoint; 
Confusion lost to a lonely stare; 
No guardians by cloud-eyes 
Where no one can see reason.

Now, rain browner than sod 
Flows as a last chord over sill, 
Seeking river's cascade end; 
A parting on the lifeless stones.

Oak sleeps now on sandy bed; 
Dust has claimed one silken head. 
Silent thunder claps its hand on knotted trunk 
As Kate parts from her passing friend.

----------------------------

198 pages

Edward C. Patterson
*


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

*FREE Today and Tomorrow - March 18th & 19th at Amazon**
The Closet Clandestine:a queer steps out
by
Edward C. Patterson

A Journey from the Darkness Into the Light

*​*

The closet is a dark and airless place, so when I emerged from it, what else could I do but extol truth's glory over systemic lies - life's beauty in its infinite variety over societal servitude in its deafening prejudice.

The Closet Clandestine is a paean to existance beyond the closet - seven peans, in fact - chapbooks dedicated to my OUTbound journey. Sensitive, bold, Gay and sometimes shocking, these are the lyrics of my journey from darkness to twilight to sunshine.

Included - seven chapbooks:

The Awakening
Catherine and Other Poems
The Festival at Thebes
Ties and Rings
Gay October
Provincetown Poems, and 
Songs: Not Just Survival.

---------------------------------
from Catherine and Other Poems

In My Heart there Lives a Dream

Here in my heart there lives a dream, 
He, like the autumn wind 
With auburn hair, hugs my soul 
And drifts by my fire lit.

In my morning, there he, 
Like summer's lilt, 
Gives me rest from clutter 
In our cottage by the sea.

And the breakers come and wake me
Deep from my heart and its sigh; 
And a tear wells, as he, 
Like spring's promise or 
Winter's waning dream, 
Fades in the morning breaker's mist. 
----------------------------

198 pages

Edward C. Patterson
*


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## Edward C. Patterson (Mar 28, 2009)

*FREE Monday thru Wednesday - May 5, 6 & 7 at Amazon**
The Closet Clandestine:a queer steps out
by
Edward C. Patterson

A Journey from the Darkness Into the Light

*​*

The closet is a dark and airless place, so when I emerged from it, what else could I do but extol truth's glory over systemic lies - life's beauty in its infinite variety over societal servitude in its deafening prejudice.

The Closet Clandestine is a paean to existance beyond the closet - seven peans, in fact - chapbooks dedicated to my OUTbound journey. Sensitive, bold, Gay and sometimes shocking, these are the lyrics of my journey from darkness to twilight to sunshine.

Included - seven chapbooks:

The Awakening
Catherine and Other Poems
The Festival at Thebes
Ties and Rings
Gay October
Provincetown Poems, and 
Songs: Not Just Survival.

---------------------------------
from The Awakening
================
Come to My Heart
================

Come to my heart, dear friend.
Come to my side this very day,
For I mean to pledge my friendship to thee,
To worship at your holy shrine,
Beyond the strawberry love,
Beyond the fading promise in the wave.

There I am, at your side,
At the altar to your beauty,
Despite the envious throngs;
The harvest you could reap.

Here I am, watching o'er your dreams
By your bedside in the bleakness,
Standing at your doorstep when the winter winds take warning.
Calling by your trumpet when a whisper goes unnoticed,
Holding all your secrets when the roses cease to flourish;
A mirror to your living,
Seeing you as in these moments
When the nighttime steals upon us,
Coursing you forever
Beyond the stroke of the sweetest hour.
So, see me as the friendship, vigilant beside you;
We the old, old soul-mates,
Sweet mists clung to the morning sea.

----------------------------

198 pages

Edward C. Patterson
*


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