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The Petty Player Who Rarely Sleeps

I'd Like A Taste (The Wolf Said)

The Crow Is A Black Bird

When I Start to Bloom

I'd Like To Be Your Shirt (when you wake up in the morning)



All Beings Considered

Words Between Edward And Jane

Nothing's Sadder Than A Rose

The Great Tsunami Of Our Growing Grief written 3/2.2021--retitled 3/14/2021

After Wide Sargasso Sea ( For Those of You Readers Who Have Empathy For the First Mrs. Rochester.)

WAITING ON THE WORLD (March/February 2021 poetry)

Wild and Unraveling

What Must Be

These Hands Exist July 4 2023 rei-edited 7/12/2023

I Am The Color Of Black

The Tide of Your Lies (2019-2023)

How I Wanted Your Pearls 6/24/2023 WRITTEN DIRECTLY TO THE PAGE

Love Wants What Love Wants re-edited 5/31/023

Winter's Been Too Long.... 4/18/2023 (LONGING)

The Dreaming Life ( A Series Of Dream Vignettes)

Like A Small Street Dog Lured In By The Promise Of Meat

This Is What Mermaids Dream Of

At Night, As I Dream of Vampires Who Have No Bad Intentions

And You Will Be Called Ashes As You Leave ( from a dream)

Certainly No Bread 3/16/2022

Someone Send Out A Search Party

THE FAN , AT NIGHT, GIVES GOOD ADVICE completely re-edited, an entirely different poem

What Is The Price For Your Touch? re-editied 5/31/2023

Where Is My Bed With The Pleasing Tree -Lined View(NOW REEDITED)

Oh What Fine Physics (Before Me ,Lies) re-edtited @4/17/2023

If Prejudice Were Dumb And Could Not Speak

THE COMPANY THAT WE KEEP WITH THE ONE WITHIN

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something better to run to...



its a stare down
yellowed glowing eyes
and grabbing octopus arms
I'm running down a hall
which never seems to end
and suddenly begins to telescope
backwards

he is waiting along a
long dark walkway
in the trees
a shadow I cannot
quite comprehend
he moves stealthily nearer but
I cannot

I am falling
hoping to fly
there are tree limbs within reach
but I have no hands
I flap my stumps and webbed feet
a gaping mouth yawns below
I feel its heated breath tickling my toes
and grab at the next branch with my teeth

I hear the snarl of
a great bear-dog-beast
of impossible pedigree and size
it has meat hook paws
a saliva'd mouth like foaming fondant candy
red eyes trained on me
sniffling snorting
I am running but can never seem
to out-distance what I hear
I am treed but he/it
is using an ax

several
masked creatures lean over me
drooling
I am masking-taped to a cold gurney
my mouth moves sideways like pulled taffy
a pile of bloodied teeth lay in a silver tray
beside me
they are slit eyed I hear them inside my head
whispering just loud enough
I would rather not listen
they use familiar voices of the long dead
my grandfather/mother, father and mother
I am not convinced
wake up number thirteen wake up I scream

draw your nightmares
make a sketchbook of your fears
see the pages speckled with dried tears
write them down for your own posterity
does the light illuminate
does the darkness seep in
little awfuls grow into big bad fears
see how they can cannibalize your nerves

so I draw my nightmares
to illustrate how you can face your fears

if you are no longer running
you will find something better to run to


Copyright 7/26/2014 All Rights Reserved By this Author
All Stories/Poetry/Ideas are the Legal Property of this Writer
Melissa A Howells/Meloo/Tilt-a-World
 





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