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Home, Ghuey, Sweet Home

All Beings Considered

I Long For Stars

The Best Revenge (For All Your Critic's Critiques)

Your Next New Dying Black Swan

The Dreaming Life ( A Series Of Dream Vignettes)

Nothing's Sadder Than A Rose

Not For The Bloom of Tears Cultivated These Last 100 Years

All Too Clearly Now

If This Is Any Art For Which You Care

Informed Through Pain

Sometimes In Losing I Have Gained A Lot

A Man Of The Clouds

The Birds Are Such Un-numbering Creatures of Distant Hitchcockian Past



Didn't You Learn That First Lesson In Kindergarten?

They Grew (A Poem From The Imaginarium)

Cuba Libre


Max on the max

The Little Bird Said

The Factory of Resentments

When My Blues Are Gone

Expect Yourself



Silver-Tongued Devil

Within The Green Wind Becomes The Fall

Think On This--IF YOU WOULD

Open Lines

You Got Your Lilly Back

More Poetry >>


Bus conversations
often seem idle chatter
you, he says
are so easily flattered
the sun shines
and it brings a smile
legions of green
miles of northwest emerald isles
no matter
the weather
you fellows adapt
not so with me
I often snap
two toothless friends
jaws receding
don't care about life's gaps
life is worth living, leading
the rest
can live with tooth-filled frowns
the small shall have their ups and
you, he says
he grins
he teases
he is wise though worn
he has the ways of reason
yes, you
are too easily flattered,
no, this is not
I sense
I believe
idle bus time chatter

Copyright May 21st 2011...all rights reserved ....Meloo/Melissa A Howells Tilt-a-World

a rewrite off a scrap of paper on the way to the Twilight Rummage Sale.
You can learn a lot riding the bus. Here I learn about gratitude, what it truly means.

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