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The Petty Player Who Rarely Sleeps

I'd Like A Taste (The Wolf Said)

The Crow Is A Black Bird

When I Start to Bloom

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



All Beings Considered

Words Between Edward And Jane

Nothing's Sadder Than A Rose

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

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

WAITING ON THE WORLD (March/February 2021 poetry)

Wild and Unraveling

What Must Be

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

I Am The Color Of Black

The Tide of Your Lies (2019-2023)

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

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

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

The Dreaming Life ( A Series Of Dream Vignettes)

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

This Is What Mermaids Dream Of

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

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

Certainly No Bread 3/16/2022

Someone Send Out A Search Party

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

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

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

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

If Prejudice Were Dumb And Could Not Speak

THE COMPANY THAT WE KEEP WITH THE ONE WITHIN

More Poetry >>

This Is A Serious Poem

I've always known what I wanted to say
but I took too much time and
used too many words to say it.
Maybe they weren't listening.
Maybe I wasn't deserving.
(But, I was.)
Maybe there wasn't enough time for me.
(But. there was.)
The world said:
Economy was a virtue.
Excess was a vice.
Good-bye world!
I won't cry twice.
Society said:
Bad girls threw tantrums.
Good girls defined nice.
So long society, good-bye to you, I'm not your child.
I'm not attending the party.
This failed debutante is through.
(But not finished.)
This is a serious poem,
the kind that needs to be read.
I know who I am.
I ain't yet dead.
I'm not nice. Don't even trust in the word.


For much too long we've been tidying up the language.
Using pretty new-fangled words when a fine four lettered one
would do.
All so sensibilities don't get singed,
so we would all be more pleasant to listen to.
I've had much too much pleasantry...
seems it coming out of my a**.
For much too long there's been a hitch in our get-a-longs,
instead of pushing forward our getting to's.

Our Eden is in sorrowful need of tending to.
The Tenders, especially those elected,
aren't attending to what they intended to.
Cow-towing and glad-handing is what their business has been rendered to.


You're outta luck if you can't take care of yourself,
for the world does not take care of you.
The World Does Not Teach Itself To Sing.
Separated by oceans, mountains, rivers of ignorance,
and a failure to understand the common-ness of despair,
the new world chorus is fast becoming
a cacophony of I don't care.
But they say...with fingers crossed,
I care. I'm sorry. Have a nice day!
How did the world get this way?
Hollowed out.
Off-Center.
Tilted away.
Forgotten are the needs of people, animals, and the planet.
And when you DO have a problem,
pick a selection, push a button, wait on line...
and panic.
Sorry, but we do not have the time...
to treat you as a person,
(and you might just get disconnected.)
We are much too busy making money
and lying and lying and lying and lying and lying.
The government doesn't govern.
Our "leaders" do not lead.
Their sole stimulation is profit and greed.
Dems and Reps are two peas in a pod.
Outcasts and anarchists are peddling a new
vision of God.
I've had my fill
of the swill
of sermonizing and politicizing.
This is a serious poem.
Zut Alor! (Get Out!)
I've known what to say
all along.




Copyright Melissa A Howells/ Meloo of Tilt-a-World
All Rights Reserved by Author written over time but finally written down on
Thursday October 27 2011









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