meloostraightfromhertilt-a-world

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No Addmittance/Doors Shut

Poem Untitled, But, If Not For You

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

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As Sick As My Secrets


I think I wear a cloak
of invisibility
I have a set of masks
I do a lot of tasks
which are diversions
they are my big prestige
voila my dears
don't really look at me

you are only as sick as
your secrets

I've amassed plenty
as many or more than
my years
perhaps enough to match
the tears I've cried

I deal them out
like carefully played hands
and whisper of them with only
those who might have the time
to understand
because so many don't
and so many crave perfection even though
many have their secrets too

there are so many people hiding
in plain sight
trembling
right in front of you.



written directly to the page
(WELL ACTUALLY ON A SCRAP OF NAPKIN)
May 1, 2017 11:39am PST date time stamped
LEGAL COPYRIGHT FOR THIS WORK/POEM
AND ALSO FOR THIS WRITER/AUTHOR MELISSA A HOWELLS
AND ALSO FOR THIS LEGALLY COPYRIGHTED SITE TITLE:
MELOO STRAIGHT  FROM HER TILT-A-WORLD





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