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Sometimes I Hear Him

Beware The Sign of Sagittarius

No Woman's Friend

Be Like The Clouds

Home, Ghuey, Sweet Home



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

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

Some Meaningful Proof For A Hopeful Dreamer's Eyes

Ramada

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No Woman's Friend


a mirror
I've heard
is no woman's friend
especially not in a small room where there's
much room for comparing

comparing is a poor habit
one that one ought never begin
and soon becomes apparent
is a necessity to break

the whole world compares
and often come up wanting
to be more
men mostly do this

comparing is the progenitor of
all competition
it creates pandemics of ugliness:
envy, bullying, disputes, wars

women reluctantly enter this parlor game
and when they do
fully aware of its complications
and pitfalls

its a game of cards
where guile and deceit reign
in torrents
and errors

some seem to be winners
while others don't quite have the cards
some never show their hand
keeping them hidden

there's no need to bluff
I'm who I am
and mirrors reflect what the seer sees
there's always some distortion
vanity,
regret,
inner love,
outer vanity

the mirror isn't a woman's friend
especially
when she leaves it up to others
and plays at the parlor game of comparison

these are not games
about who we are

its better to just breathe
and let live

breaking the mirror
might bring you luck,

unending bliss

(in truth
Alice was no great friend of mirrors
she was, in fact
disposed only
to make good use of them...
dear Alice,
clever girl...)



legal copyright for this work/poem
June 19 2017 eleven fifty-six am PST
and also for this writer Melissa A Howells
and also for this legally copyrighted site title
Meloo straight from her Tilt-a-World





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