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Hope Is Sometimes The Best Of All You've Got (definition poem)

Enough to Clear The Clouds Away 4/13/2019


Checking Out

Home, Ghuey, Sweet Home

Someone Send Out A Search Party

Crows...writing exercise in honor of April /National Poetry month


Only The Choice To Be

When People Go

The Day You Left (Words From A Half-Remembered Dream)

Wake Wake Wake

It Is In The Rain

Dream Goblins Of The Night

Wake And Remember

Unwelcomed Like So Much Unfinished Business

In March (Finally, Spring 2016)

All For Algernon

Weak In The Knees

The Finisher's Song

Nothing's Sadder Than A Rose

All Beings Considered

This Is It

Max on the max

I Long For Stars

Falling Leaf, Falling Man/Woman, Rising Star

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

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

Not For The Bloom of Tears Cultivated These Last 100 Years

If This Is Any Art For Which You Care

If I Could Be The Sky...

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

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Black Hole Singularity

Where's God?
I'm floundering.
On this murderous road atlas.
Earth shifts. Birth to Death.
A sensory canvas of
growing into our shoes
and then doddering on to

Still life and photography
affecting, grainy
in/out of focus.
We dumb-hope for paternal
maternal fraternal romantic
love.  Sigh.
Experience its failures.
Hope for some more hope
even when the facts do not add up.

Sometimes enlightened,
we are
when we're lucky.
Sometimes we muddle in mud.
Wishing for a full whale tale
and adventure.
Wishing our stories would be
convincing, though we are  

Agonized and honestly spent
our worn coping
fills us with humor, pain,
doubt, a kind of debt.

Above we see a sky of shining stars.
Are they gifts to wish on?
Basking in their twinkling night skies
of profundity...
we lean in towards the prospect

Copyright June 22, 2013 All Rights Reserved
By this Author.
Melissa A. Howells Meloo/Tilt-a-World

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