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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

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To Be Just Like You.

We turned the twinkling lights on
a Mid-July evening
a super nova of color
too early to be Christmas
but we felt like it anyway.
The Hoppa Crab tree dancing, animated,
while the cars lined up curbside for the show,
I said "You are so unusual."
And we laughed.
You said "We surprise ourselves sometimes and
isn't that wonderful."
We sipped hot cocoa instead of cool iced pink lemonade,
using the 4th of July marshmallows.
I felt proud to be your daughter, then.
You were an invention.
I liked the idea of you
and your long list of idiosyncrasies.
On that day,
I wanted to be just like you.

Copyright November 15, 2012 All Rights Reserved By Author
Melissa A Howells////Meloo straight from her Tilt-a-World

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To Be Just Like You.



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