meloostraightfromhertilt-a-world

      Poet's Home             All Poetry       Sign Up!  Login
© 2000-2019 Individual Authors of the Poetry. All rights reserved by authors.   310686 Poems Read.

Search for Poetry

   


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

Enough to Clear The Clouds Away 4/13/2019

Devious

Checking Out

Home, Ghuey, Sweet Home



Someone Send Out A Search Party

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

Words

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)

More Poetry >>

 
Features

  Sign Guestbook

Read Guestbook

 
   

Fifty-Five Needs to Be A Whole Lot Cockier


some say
if I think
therefore I am not
does that mean
thinking erases me?

would I rather run like color runs
in water
the liquidness of the movement
languid,
effortless and endless

thinking can be as dangerous
as a cage
like the limits of 9 x 11
page

and the limits of space/time
the hour glass has tipped
you who are getting older
know of what I write and speak

help me out of here
I'm trapped
set me free to roam far and wide
with the wind

have you ever felt you were too
strapped in?

that you've lived and thought
too long a certain way
this contorts and distorts me

the highway of life has
projects that have stalled along the way

I've tinkered with them only long enough
to cause a ripple or no change within
nor promise or hope

I feel I've been adrift
self-sacrificing for mere
curiosity or
mediocrity

if I were a cat
nearly all nine lives
would be gone

so what's left?
experience or defeat
something in between?

depends on the perspective

now, the limit has been
posted at 55
and what's beyond it
could be exhausting

its a wake up call
on a wind up alarm clock
its an old song
blasting
in my head

I can't drive
this hoopty no more
its 55 and to the floor
and look at me
the age I am

screw you all
this is where you're eventually
coming to
we all follow this road map
to our own ends

it took some real doing
to get here
you better believe
me
didn't it?

55 should be
needs to be
a whole lot cockier

this Hen has got some
crowing to do.


Copyright August 27, 2014 Wednesday 9:37 pm
All Rights Reserved By This Author
All Rants/Ideas/Poetry/Stories are The Legal Property of This Writer
Meloo/Melissa A Howells
straight from her Tilt-a-World


"Do Not Go Gently Into That Good Night."
"Rage Against The Machine" of Public Opinion





Vote for this poem

Please Comment On This Poem

Comments

 Email Address

 

Vote for this poem