meloostraightfromhertilt-a-world

      Poet's Home             All Poetry       Sign Up!  Login
© 2000-2017 Individual Authors of the Poetry. All rights reserved by authors.   263751 Poems Read.

Search for Poetry

   


Read Poetry
Coming Off Small

Counting The Long Days, Tilling The Greens

All Tarted Up

Don't Tread On Me.

why We celebrate the losers



Home, Ghuey, Sweet Home

what makes a monster (sympathy for the monster)

I Long For Stars

If This Is Any Art For Which You Care

All Beings Considered

Little Water Bug ( learning the lesson of true pain)

Hope You Enjoyed The Eclipse While It Lasted

Written For My Father Who Isn't Here To Know

And Even Stars Die

Crowded Out

I Feel Fine(r)

Make (of) Me A Snow Angel

Used to Think I Could Fix Them.

Sometimes Love Comes With Electricity

Into The Swirling Sea Of White.

Max on the max

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

Boy Restored

The Light Goes On In The Attic (WeAll Have Addictons)

Life's A Candle

Malla Batsick

(A Prayer of Intercession--Brief Joy)

Love A Cat

Cuba Libre

Fragile Shell Of Morning

Disappear

A Little Bit of Harlem in Your Life

More Poetry >>

 
Features

  Sign Guestbook

Read Guestbook

 
   

And Even Stars Die


*****
***
*

the end of the day
arrives exhausted

do you look into the faces of others
who surround you
if they let you in

don't we all hide something inside
which keeps us apart
and separates us
maintains the distances

oh how the strain of daily cares
that one has to buttress oneself
up against
the shock and awe
of daily life

couldn't it all be simpler
why do we do so complicate matters

when we could chose to relax
and breathe

glance up from the ground
take a wider look around
notice birds, flowers, clouds calibrating the sky
and the newness of Spring
or of anything
why not
let our smiles creep into our faces
in spite of ourselves

yet
here we are
with our elaborate masks
sunglasses to hide who we really are
a tiring assignment, a daily task...
the fact our eyes don't match our smiles

our clothes, manners and expectations
frustrations
a panoply of uniform disguise manifestations
truly put-ons
smoke signals and distractions
from any real interactions

why do we sabotage
be the saboteur
with our mal odor about life

and when we surmise
how our dreams are now or not ever yet realized
time becomes a commodity we waste
and hence is wasted on us

forget that we are all made
of the same stardust
and in the end,
how even stars die

*****
***
*

legal copyright for this work
and also by this writer Melissa A Howells
and also for this site title
Meloo Straight from her Tilt-a-World
March 11 2017 5:15pm PST

directly to the page/edited later
re-edited March 13th, 2017 4am.

this isn't a simple, no-brainer poem.
there's a lot more complexity than meets the eye,
double and triple entendre's.
if you haven't found a meaning here
than perhaps you can read it again.
if you haven't thought about this,
or come to a part of your life
where you look at your inherent frailty
the frailties of those close to you,
or the frailties of the world
 or perhaps you haven't
had this thought yet nor this experience.
I hope you don't. But, believe me
you will some day.
I time and date stamp all of my writing.
I was writing this at 4am.
That might give some of those who
don't understand a clue.

re-edited briefly April 12, 2017 8:19pm PST





Vote for this poem

Please Comment On This Poem

Comments

 Email Address

 

Vote for this poem