melissaahowells

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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

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feeling the rain


the world, my world
seemed altered afterwards
in so many numbered ways.

for me the grey mantle of grief
became my familiar and my
tears were as plentiful
as rain, though they bore no flower
but the growth of despair.

the cancer was all I had
focused on and now with his death
it, and him, were both gone.
(where?)

battle-weary, I was,
not knowing how to disarm
myself after the war.

where do people go when they die?
I think at the moment of death
the world is forever altered, never to be
the same again. change and death being
the only constants.

if I had extra-sensitive perception  (*)
could I see these lightning bits of flux?
and could I have captured that lightning bolt (his)?
witnessed its flash at the moment
of his death?

would that have made a difference?
would I feel any less rain?


I have several people and critters in mind
as I write this. Animals are akin to people
in my book. Their biggest disadvantage being
the lack of speech. Their greatest advantage
being their unconditional love.

Copyright Tuesday October 2, 2013
All Rights Reserved By This Author
Melissa A Howells Meloo/ Tilt-a-World

(*)-- I do mean extra-sensitive, not
extra-sensory...its alright to invent
new ways of saying things.

interesting and odd, how in death,
that death itself seems to be a kind of
cancer to those witnessing it, while,
perhaps, to the dying it is a relief.





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