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there are some regrets

that cannot be fixed

giving yourself away

for one

is a tragic mistake

it is better

to be your own


than to give yourself away

and still be solo

life is a gift

open it

every gift is different

every canvas

requires a different stroke

the familiarity of peace

the moment of flow


is a warm hug

conversations understood

being owned

shuts down

the faucet of words

we are less lonely

being our own

than wearing a mask

to please someone else


is less of a task

and more an unfolding

a potter’s…

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when the music plays

a lovely love song

and someone asks you to dance

if the dance

is stiff

and difficult to meet

rather than a melt into flow

then you know

why the sun rises in the east

and sets in the west

we are created for certain things

and where synchronicity exists

the music is best

and our dance

becomes a life in perfect rhyme

where a gaze says eternity

and our hearts spin

across the floor

swaying as one

yet hearing the music

through different doors

always two

magenta and cyan create blue

the sea and the sky

blur into the horizon

melting into one

the perfect dance

the light shimmering


a reflection of the sun

the dance

when soulmates fly


yet two

— patty

oil painting “mutable boundary” by kate kelly

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i long to take off

not plant and wither

it is in our bloom

to create something new

seeds blowing into spring

to love an idea

nurture it

in the winds of change

innovations of the mind

launched like a kite

and when conditions are right

watch it soar on

into the night

holding the string

give and take

not too tight

a flow of failures

then to go

the velocity of a whim

taking off

into the unknown

but intricately felt

in the synchronicity of time

unraveling the mystery

of imperfect scale

or perfect fail

like a kite struggling

in clashing sea breezes

it’s perfectly designed tail

stabilizing the launch

the weighted

awaited first flight

— -patty


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i think i knew you before

the water lapping at your skirts

the sun in the winter

falling haphazardly

on cobblestone streets

iron gates

opening to eden

a rainbow of color in spring

you are a contradiction for me

a luring to be

yet an uncertainty

a comfortable porch swing

gazing at marsh grasses

shimmering golden green

but a history discerning

who lives free

do you flow with the tides

or hunker on the dark side


i knew you before

and our mystery

in a whim

comes off the sea

for a moment or so

blows through trees

sadly recedes

i am not there

and yet it looks for me

— patty

“dawn’s early light” oil by jacki newell

the world

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i don’t remember

the world feeling quite so fragile

the shakiness of every spin

the doom

the gloom

the anxiety of every room

the distorted faces

of miserable people

why have our lives

become a living tomb

the human ruin

broken hearts

and empty lives

that never seem to arrive

a dying planet

spining blue and green

against eternity

a garden

a snake

a flower

a bloom

love becomes hate

time ticks

the slow motion kill

sadly for us

time will not wait

when our moment goes still

— patty

art by smeccea


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there are moments

that end discussions

doors slam

and worlds separate

the moment of clarity

when time has become betrayal

and love a misunderstanding

and all that has been done

seems cheap

and shallow

just a beggars cup

all preconceived

moments of nothing

that seemly disappear

in the emptiness of air

a blank stare

and a period

the wilting of despair.

— patty

photograph by inna mosina

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have you ever felt

that some places

just have

too many ghosts

everywhere we look

we see them

walking down streets

looking at the stars

opening doors

falling on their knees

it’s a clean slate

we often need

a chance to begin again

no baggage

from who knows when

where tears

still fall from trees

and weeds return

with every passing spring

words so often said

echoing sound waves

make it difficult to leave

maybe a new space

is all we need

a little blue

a little brown

window boxes

filled with green

a quaint small town

where no one

knows who we are

or where we've been

not even the ghosts

who still linger there

and the only echo

is the rustling of leaves

a lonely


kind of breeze

an owl hooting

in the almost barren trees

— patty

art — spirit tree by victor roschkov

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we are imperfect

life is imperfect

blackberries hide in thorns

roses too

they bloom against the scorn

in our perfect place

of dreams

our reality

is an imperfect love

paragraphs of imperfect words

we search for good

in imperfect places

hidden away

waiting for weeds

to be pruned away

we are imperfect gardeners

growing imperfect blooms

that bloom


wither away


nostalgically in

our imperfect rhyme

the art of the mind

in life’s chaotic fray

beautiful remains

hearts that stay


longer than a day

— patty

art - deliberation by mario sanchez nevado

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a broken heart

is hard to reconcile

to wake every day

and feel the ache

the longing

that will not go away

and yet to move

through the world

as if all is okay

i contemplate

how many people

live their entire lives

with a broken heart

and tell no one

they carry it around

day upon day

dreams upon dreams

an extension

of souls

unrequited desires

somewhat like lighthouses

out at sea

the mystery of somewhere

we’ve never seen

but in another time

knew it well

so familiar

lighting our way

yet strong undercurrents

keep us at bay

life chips away


our lives

are hollowed out

like a barbie doll

yet dreams remain

the ache in our chest

keeps us restless

pacing by

the shores of tomorrow

as our lighthouses

fade away

— patty

painting- ekaterinakovaleva@etsy

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and the sun appeared

blue in my sky

a cold breeze

moving clouds across the sky

nestled by the creek

after days of gray

a single daffodil

held up its lovely face

hope in all of my whys

— patty

Patty Brown

Founder studiO

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