meloostraightfromhertilt-a-world

      Poet's Home             All Poetry       Sign Up!  Login
© 2000-2018 Individual Authors of the Poetry. All rights reserved by authors.   295678 Poems Read.

Search for Poetry

   


Read Poetry
All My Children ( CATS ARE PEOPLE TOO)

Unknowing

Home, Ghuey, Sweet Home

Call This Our Autumn

Nothing's Sadder Than A Rose



It Feels Better To Be Unfinished (Wish-Unspoken, But With My Eyes)

Evidence

Afterwards...

Falling Leaf, Falling Man/Woman, Rising Star

It Comes At Night

The Hot Seasons

Perhaps I Too, Was Frozen

You Are (I'm Here With You)

Joyce Will Soon Be Seventy-Something

All Too Clearly Now

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

Oh What A Fall

Last In Class

If This Is Any Art For Which You Care

Its About Waking In The Middle Of The Night And Having To Write It All Down

in-EFFECTIVE (Fragile)

I Long For Stars

From The Point Of A Star

Someone Send Out A Search Party

This Is It

If I Were Your Island....

Spokes Spoken

Plain Speakin' (Lyrical Poem)

All Beings Considered

It Is The Rain

Like a Small Child Tucked Into

I Talk To A Machine In My Darkness

More Poetry >>

 
Features

  Sign Guestbook

Read Guestbook

 
   

Try To Have A Good Night


The light bulb created convenience.
Turning on, turning off our world.
What if there were no switch.
The giant grid going out...
would sure be quite the hitch.


We, plunged into our darkness.
Would our hearts then, in turn,
turn heartless?


Doing more than we normally would
when no longer discovered by the light.
Its why I keep one small bulb shining on
all through the long long night?
And then the flag at my door?
For whatever reason(s) did He invent
incandescent bulbs for?


Was he thinking of safety? Or the reading of books?
Or the all-too-human need to peruse and admire (much longer) our looks?
Or of simply not bumping into walls. I wonder about his focus,
and if, back then, it had been that small,
his locus.
I wonder then, if we had little to fear
from our neighbors
at all?


Or did we?
Or do we,
now?


We might turn off the lights, to see.
(Instead.)
How ironic could one situation be?
Darkness reveals more
of the  truth
than the light.
So turn off the switch.
(in your head?)

Try to have a good night.



Copyright July 19 2012 All Rights Reserved by Author
Melissa A Howells
Meloo from her Tilt-a-World


P.S. Thinking forward to December 21, 2012..;
and all the doom-sayers
and the nay-sayers over the Mayan Calendar.
Really got me to thinking.
And of course there are those pesky solar flares
that could wipe out the grid...
or was the giant sun spots...I've forgotten.
Best to live in the present. Yes? Yes....





Vote for this poem

Please Comment On This Poem

Comments

 Email Address

 

Vote for this poem