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From The Point Of A Star

WRAPPING IT UP RAP... July 9 2018

All Too Clearly Now

Home, Ghuey, Sweet Home

Someone Send Out A Search Party



If I Were Your Island....

All Beings Considered

It Is The Rain

I Talk To A Machine In My Darkness

I Long For Stars

This Is It

Its Their Problem

If This Is Any Art For Which You Care

the life and times of Medusa

Max on the max

Your Next New Dying Black Swan

For the Years of Dancing (Dance Hall Days Gone)

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

Not For The Bloom of Tears Cultivated These Last 100 Years

Make (of) Me A Snow Angel

Someone Burned The Trees

Crowded Out

Sometimes Love Comes With Electricity

I Feel Fine(r)

Try To Have A Good Night

Better To Bend Than Be Broken (CHANGE)

A Promise Is

Something More...

STRAIGHT FROM MY TILT-A-WORLD (legal copyright Melissa A Howells 6/13/2018 10:01am PST time/date stamped)

Les Animaux

Ghost Fox

A Little Bad Romance

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Used to Think I Could Fix Them.


Used to think I could fix her.
Change the weeping of my Mother's heart.
Mend the break in my Mother's mind.
"Can you ever forgive me," she asked.
My Mother lay like crumpled paper
on her bedroom floor.
I carried her to her bed,
gently said "rest now."
Whispered: "let all cares cease."
My sad pronouncement of peace.
I sat and watched until she
tumbled into accordion slumber.
Rest now, Mother.
I can't fix you.
Don't know if I ever will or can.
Still I prayed the prayer of
the undelivered.
It must have been bad medicine.
The cure didn't take.
It was my mistake
to believe.
Used to think I could fix him.
Behave so he'd come home for supper.
Endure when he beat me and when he didn't.
Forgave him for his blackouts.
Still, I took the blame.
It was my call,
the one that lost him everything.
Voluntary treatment didn't save him.
But soon he declared his life transformed-
with the advent of Leo Bascaglia
and the mightier power of amends.
And amends to his Mother
became the carrot of his existence...
Yes, he was going to fix it,
his past, that is.
The day before we were to leave
to see her
his Mother died.
Another prayer
for the undelivered.
I held my Father close.
Though I never knew him well,
I could never let a stranger cry.
After the funeral
he went back to the bottle.
Yes, it was my mistake to believe.
Used to think I could fix them.

Legal Copyright March 5 for this work by this author
, 2010 All Rights Reserved By this Author
Melissa A. Howells  and also legal copyright for this site
Meloo straight from her Tilt-a-World





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