meloostraightfromhertilt-a-world

      Poet's Home             All Poetry       Sign Up!  Login
© 2000-2020 Individual Authors of the Poetry. All rights reserved by authors.   353009 Poems Read.

Search for Poetry

   


Read Poetry
Not Someone's Grand Illusion

Wisdom of the Infinite

If Prejudice Were Dumb And Could Not Speak

The Differences

The Springtime Shadows Play Games Upon The Wall



A Little Bit of Harlem in Your Life

The Voice Lost In the Wires

Home, Ghuey, Sweet Home

All Beings Considered

After Wide Sargasso Sea

Great Big Waterproof World

The Storm

I Turn Forward

Patch-Worked Trilogy

And Then It Wasn't Hard To Be Eight Years Old

Prairie Town Progress

Beyond Door Number Three

Great Spirit

Elise, Elise

The Make-Up of Molecules

Someone Send Out A Search Party

Make (of) Me A Snow Angel

Threading Myself Through The River Called Night

Not For The Bloom of Tears Cultivated These Last 100 Years

The Dreaming Life ( A Series Of Dream Vignettes)

Dragons

HOW

EVENTUALLY...

THERE WILL BE MORE ...

At Night I Dream of Vampires Who Have No Bad Intentions

morning thoughts (begin again)

Human History is Pockmarked With Tragedy

More Poetry >>

 
Features

  Sign Guestbook

Read Guestbook

 
   

To The Myth-Makers Liars & Self-Deceivers I Am Now A Non-Believer


You may be right
but
you may be wrong.
You may never have known me never ever,
all along.
And you don't get to say anything.
Anymore.
You are silence.
Not even squeaking.
Words you thought you were speaking
are nothings.
Just a momentary stirrings of the air.
You will be gone.


You were wrong.
Never right.
Thinking, whining,
opining you knew me.
We're not even strangers passing
through the dark night of the soul.


I was a nothing nothing
in your tiny tiny minds.
Made it so easy-peasy for you all to be
more than unkind.
All of the wailing hurricanes of hate you blew
were putrid.


There will be such a peace when you all
have gone.
My emotional sense of self is wise and strong.
I know I know what's stink on stink.
And when a rose bush is a thorn bramble.


Standing it all alone in my own small light
that was the problem, wasn't it?
That was my fight,
the one you all objected to.
You stood together in one long line
and swallowed gulping darkness
then belched it out.
All of you were drowning in
your residual lake of anger
and the
swirling doubts about who you were.
You tried to drown me
as you were drowning.


You think  of me as a glimmer.
A dim reflection.
An annoying glare.
You misunderstand and misunderstood,
were not aware.
Or should I say
were un-enlightened?
The light caught you by surprise.
It made you angry.


Now it takes too much of me
to hate the whole of you.
May your regiments soldier on
into your bad night
and hate me as you will. Your
cognitive dissonance does not inform,
it only wounds and confounds.
Together or separately,
you may continue to all fall down,
lick your pretended hurts.
I'm not listening.

I will no longer be your just deserts.





Copyright March 4, 2013  All Rights Reserved By This Author
Melissa A Howells/Meloo Straight from her Tilt-a-World









Vote for this poem

Please Comment On This Poem

Comments

 Email Address

 

Vote for this poem