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The Inner String

The Hoping

Home, Ghuey, Sweet Home

Some Children Have Nightmares (tentative title)

Night Train


wandering the rolling hills ...(written for his model)

All The Changing....


Lonesome Love

two out of three people

A Start Again...(I Green-Dreamed Again Last Night)

The Little Bird Said

cat speech

Funny, Not Funny

All You Have To Do Is Breathe....


A Dog Should Have His Tail...

Enough to Clear The Clouds Away 4/13/2019

Checking Out


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

Last Night

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

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how do
you keep our secrets
as they slip out
you hide our whimpers
and whispers.

sometimes it is as if
God is our only witness
we feel estranged
from ourselves.

you are Father Confessor
yet not a man of the cloth
but a man of vast belief
we feel relief
in your presence.

you are a witness.

the Skinwalker
treads here in this distant
arid piece of land
brutalizing dark our senses
working hard to reign
by emotional attrition.

upon their arrival
the Gormans were greeted by
a giant wolf sidling pastureland
slinking more like a man

("what is that?")

the beast seized the family's cat
and attempted to drag it through
the slats of the corral fence

Mr. Gorman
aimed a 350 then an aught six
the one shot-gun bullet making its mark
but the animal
persisted unflinching.

shocked, the family
didn't understand what they
were witnessing.
the bullet finally connecting
leaving a hunk of smoldered
reeking black flesh.

they haven't learned to understand
the secrets
the stories
that are so old
they are ancient.

so many people knew of
the trickster history of this place
and its eerie past

it was evilly intentional...

the experiencing was
a grocery list of
the surreal and
fear-producing exponential...

animal mutilations,
silent, distant silver objects in the sky,
the basketball blue orbs,
the four-foot tall wolves,
the freakish flights of birds,
the invisible voices speaking in
mocking derisive tones
household objects disappearing
and reappearing in a new homes
and giant blackening shadows

did whatever was here
what no one else to share
its space

all recording devices
were violently destroyed
each time they were replace
with large red eyes detected below
on the cameras before
they were gutted.

the Mormans, the Utes,
have always remembered to
avoid this vile thatch
of earth
calling It
the realm of the

one morning,
after a daylight
mutilation of an 80 pound calf,
not even the professional Tracker could
find trace of It.

Written after listening to George Knapp
and Colm Kelleher who were guests on
the Coast-to-Coast program with
George Noory...this is factual information included
this is my fictionalized interpretation.
Gorman is not the name of the family as they have
felt terrorized and the accounting of the tale is
protecting their anonymity.

Copyright October 24, 2013
Melissa A Howells
Meloo Tilt-a-World
Author Retains All Copyrights

written hastily to the page after listening
will go back and edit later on...

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