melissaahowells


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o The Petty Player Who Rarely Sleeps

o I'd Like A Taste (The Wolf Said)

o The Crow Is A Black Bird

o When I Start to Bloom

o I'd Like To Be Your Shirt (when you wake up in the morning)



o All Beings Considered

o Words Between Edward And Jane

o Nothing's Sadder Than A Rose

o The Great Tsunami Of Our Growing Grief written 3/2.2021--retitled 3/14/2021

o After Wide Sargasso Sea ( For Those of You Readers Who Have Empathy For the First Mrs. Rochester.)

o WAITING ON THE WORLD (March/February 2021 poetry)

o Wild and Unraveling

o What Must Be

o These Hands Exist July 4 2023 rei-edited 7/12/2023

o I Am The Color Of Black

o The Tide of Your Lies (2019-2023)

o How I Wanted Your Pearls 6/24/2023 WRITTEN DIRECTLY TO THE PAGE

o Love Wants What Love Wants re-edited 5/31/023

o Winter's Been Too Long.... 4/18/2023 (LONGING)

o The Dreaming Life ( A Series Of Dream Vignettes)

o Like A Small Street Dog Lured In By The Promise Of Meat

o This Is What Mermaids Dream Of

o At Night, As I Dream of Vampires Who Have No Bad Intentions

o And You Will Be Called Ashes As You Leave ( from a dream)

o Certainly No Bread 3/16/2022

o Someone Send Out A Search Party

o THE FAN , AT NIGHT, GIVES GOOD ADVICE completely re-edited, an entirely different poem

o What Is The Price For Your Touch? re-editied 5/31/2023

o Where Is My Bed With The Pleasing Tree -Lined View(NOW REEDITED)

o Oh What Fine Physics (Before Me ,Lies) re-edtited @4/17/2023

o If Prejudice Were Dumb And Could Not Speak

o THE COMPANY THAT WE KEEP WITH THE ONE WITHIN



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The Surplus Population

One man's kitchen
is the next man's garbage stop
Some folks got to be seen
eating at all the right spots.
Our
old cheese nips and backwash brandy,
soda pop
is all we got handy.
It's the best we can do.
It'll do in a pinch.
For the next day or two
feel your empty stomach clench.
You soon find out
food kitchen preparation,
isn't part or parcel of God's creation.
They're not filling big holes.
But unjustly subletting lost souls.
See how the surplus population succumbs.
Ah, these sniveling crumbs.
A day's worth of asking can't cover
a fraction of what's been spent.
Doomed to damnation,
the poor are readily sent.
Redemption's usurped.
Terror lurks under raw city lights.
One dirty blanket over cardboard,
small comfort on cold nights.
What you'd give for a room with a window
to simply look out?
It's an impossible dream.
And with each new day,
learning how not to die.


Copyright 2009
Meloo/Melissa A. Howells
A work in progress...an observation of long standing.





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