meloostraightfromhertilt-a-world

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Some Will

Home, Ghuey, Sweet Home

Please Don't Bring Me Flowers

No Woman's Friend

Sometimes I Hear Him



What If

Sometimes Love Comes With Electricity

A Little Bit of Harlem in Your Life

I Long For Stars

Every Time I Listen To the Wind.

Some People

She Is My Friend

Beware The Sign of Sagittarius

Need You (note of encouragement to self)

The Un-Promised Land

I Travel Every Time I Think Of You

Poem Untitled, But, If Not For You

If I Were Your Island....

(You're) Still Here

I Know Most Who I Am When You Are In The Room

From The Desert

As Sick As My Secrets

Not For The Bloom of Tears Cultivated These Last 100 Years

Then The Little Silver Fish Came

I Keep My Ray Bans Handy

Upwards Into The Swirling Sea Of White.

He's There

Oh, Now, The Pink Moon

And Even Stars Die

You Are Not My Audience, I Just Borrowed You For Awhile

why not ask the cat?

Odd Thoughts and Juxtapositions

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what makes a monster (sympathy for the monster)






in a kind of gloomy depth
or confusion
in a sort of self-inflicted
hazing of aloneness

in that cave or near the end of an
endless maze
the gangrenous sorrowing amplitude of loneliness
as It grows and grows then echoes
until Its all the monster knows
and bemoans

no wonder a monster becomes a monster

no one will or dares give
exactly what
the monster needs most to live

what It craves for most in the deepest of its dreams
what It pines for, whimper-cries for in its loudest screams
what Its banshee cries and wails for
hungry-toothed all bared for
in Its lair for

Its love

and so when the first person comes along
to listen to Its haunting song
and arrives at the entrance to its cave or tangled maze
its no small surprise when there's a frenzy of
gnashing, rending and blood letting
and breaking bone

while the monsters thrills at last
mine Mine MINE
not quite knowing
what It has done


Copyright May 31, 2016 All Rights Are Reserved By This Author
Melissa A Howells/Meloo Straight from her Tilt-a-World

all legal rights are reserved by this Writer/

this is a complex idea...which may take a little more time to develop
I believe we all have a bit of the old M in us...think on this

yes....I purposefully capitalized all the "it's"...wanting you to examine
what is the monster here in society...the monster Itself, the loneliness we impose
on those who are different...or....?????...I want you to really think about
the subject of humanity here and what makes a monster a monster and what separates us,
who are the real monsters and if things are really as hard and fast and
black and white as they seem... And why are we as a society so fascinated
with them...vampires, Frankenstein, zombies, ghouls, poltergeists, werewolves,
chupacabras, Mothman, Loch Ness, the Jersey Devil, ET's and abductions....
No, things are not so black and white...I don't think so. Where's the mirror
and who is really looking in?





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