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Home, Ghuey, Sweet Home

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

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

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they called

Theodore Sylvia and Anne
the Confessionalists

poets who said way too much about themselves
they were
those who opened all their doors
letting it all fall down
and spill over

words pushing forward with insistence
and flooding emotions
in times when emotions where analyzed
kept in check

when men and women had to wear
sedate 1950's disguises
so there were never bad dinner guests nor
unwelcome surprises

that's what the
Beat Poets were for

but then along came the
and opened
another wide door

they wrote what was most directly in their hearts
took their pens and stabbed themselves there
and used the vital ink to spill their words across
a blood-stained page

and filled it up with fury and hunger
and whimpering and longing and rage
and an ennui of troubling terrors

perhaps that is what killed them
in the end
and not simply just
the age

but another kind of ex-sanguination
a giving of all of themselves to
a public who may not have deserved them or
who often misunderstood them
as mildly disturbed

they gave up their wedded bliss to the word
and died like Romeo or Juliet did
on the dagger of their pain

wedded to their art

Honor them
I do

they are so much more to me
they are braver than the brave.

Copyright December 31, 2014 directly to the page last day of 2014
All Rights Are Reserved By This Author/ Meloo/Melissa A Howells
Copyright Site: Tilt-a-World (straight from her Tilt-a-World)

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