meloostraightfromhertilt-a-world

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The Un-Promised Land

Home, Ghuey, Sweet Home

(You're) Still Here

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

I Travel Every Time I Think Of You



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

Some Meaningful Proof For A Hopeful Dreamer's Eyes

Ramada

If This Is Any Art For Which You Care

Beauty

Make (of) Me A Snow Angel

So You Do (May 10, 2010 written for June 1987)

the life and times of Medusa

I Talk To A Machine In My Darkness

A Man Called Tsuris

Tuesday afternoon in the jewelry box

All Beings Considered

Disappear

Woman Of A Certain Age

Better Than A Cyanide Capsule

The Life of Tigger

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Now I Am The One Who Chooses To Chose


I am the newest
the stranger
I am the dirt on the street
I am the first and last beaten
I am the one you ignore
and you cheat
I am the ugly duckling
the sad secret
I am the fleeing runner from wolves
I am the hider in my bleak room
I am the darkness who knows
I am the least, most forgotten
I am the fool purest of heart
I am the one found under definitions of misbegotten
I am the one tending to startle and start
I am the loneliest and shunned
I am the one whose coming to earth was a sin
I am an unpleasant reminder of a trap you say that you're in
I am the one who strives to be kinder
I am the one who'd like to know love
I am the one who sees too often
I am the one who begs in silence to the Above
I am the one insolent punchy and bruised
I am the one who'd run away nightly
I am the one maligned, misconstrued
I am the one who breathes of necessity, quietly
I am the one who fears open doorways in June
I am the one defined by dulled ignorance

after all of these years of false definitions
Now I am the one who chooses to chose



after a rough couple of nights of dreams
and old mixed up messages in memories...I wrote this down
to be rid of it...
a compilation of what I would've said
had I used my voice more often as a child.



LEGAL COPYRIGHT JANUARY 25 2017
6;40 AM PST
ALL LEGAL RIGHTS ARE RESERVED BY THIS AUTHOR/WRITER
MELISSA A HOWELLS FOR THIS WORK
FOR THIS SITE TITLE
MELOO STRAIGHT FROM HER TILT-A-WORLD








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