meloostraightfromhertilt-a-world

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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

Accountants

Shrine

Didn't You Learn That First Lesson In Kindergarten?

They Grew (A Poem From The Imaginarium)

Cuba Libre

Dragons

Max on the max

The Little Bird Said

The Factory of Resentments

When My Blues Are Gone

Expect Yourself

TONIGHT

I WILL RETURN

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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random thoughts on a brilliant sunny day


Brilliance.
Shining days...
I used to hide away from it.

Being more a creature of
the night,
starlight and dance lights
provided me with all my necessary
illumination.

Now I walk amongst
the creatures of the
day and attempt to feel human.

The minutes sparkle,
but the rays are trickery, maybe
another kind of false light.

I notice that people
or their facsimile rarely look directly
at/or into one
another.
Too busy, they are, glued to other things.
Yet, not really, other people. How could it be,
in the clear light of day, that people
seem blinded in this way? Its a wonder, they're
not bumping into one another. Stepping on toes.

I cannot help but note the irony.

And how, sometimes, I still feel more alive, and live more
happily...walking in a field or by a river with one friend or
all alone. I know, I am better with people, one-by-one.

Being crowded out is not my thing.

And...Daylight brings with it visions of a maddening crowd.
People squawking like birds
into gadgets. Spraying and displaying their thoughts all around.

Somehow, this makes me crave the distances,
the covered-ness of night.

This thought does not make me
some kind of monster...
I simply know who I am.



Copyright December 4,2013
All Rights Reserved By This Author
Melissa A. Howells/Meloo
Tilt-a-World





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