melissaahowells

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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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Share Your Warm Cookie(s)


This is a true story
from beginning to end:

I had a hot cookie
a piping hot cookie
but it was for somebody else...

Along came a woman,
literally covered in sores,
begging for a bowl of cereal and milk.
I gave her the cookie
and she thanked me heartily.
But, in honesty, I had first,turned my back on her,
thinking, I had nothing to offer.
I knew that one cookie wouldn't help her.
But for that one moment,
maybe, my acknowledging her need might.

Hunger is a powerful enemy.
Loneliness coupled with it makes it a more powerful one.
Put them together in the same shaker
and don't you have a great big barrel of fun.
You got lots of trouble.
and I've been there,
way down.


The problem is as I see it,
we don't often wear each others shoes.
Don't know what it feels like to be in them.
Perhaps the problem is that we want
not to be bothered or to have to look at or see people,
but to blame or say that's the life they choose...
yet we don't know the why's and how's of how it got
to be that way.

I've been hungry and I've been lonely.
It can be a near-deadly combination.

To survive you got to do things you wouldn't do...
I've taken bean dip, Hostess pies and stuffed them
deep into my hole-filled pockets.
I've stalked apple trees and porches filled with refund-bottles.
I've haunted dumpsters searching for pizza crusts
and seconds tossed and anything that didn't look too bad.

When you are hungry,
you would be surprised what is and looks edible.

Because I was had just moved in with my Dad and he had gone
on a business trip and promised to return,
I spent my whole college grant/scholarship on his bills
thinking he'd come back...
well, he didn't...
and then my Mother (they were newly divorced) was so angry
with me that she didn't care if I had any money to eat.

Later on Dad sent his refund to deposit in the bank.
Poor decision-making led me to deposit it into his account;
therefore, I had no choice but to forge his signature to pay bills
but soon realized I could only pay myself five dollars a day...
after eating day old bread and condensed soup for 3 months solid,
I discovered a succulent fruitcake sent by my Aunt wrapped in holiday
foil nestled in the bottom of the barren refrigerator.
This cake saved me just in time for college finals.

So this story is part poem,
part narration,
all truth,
no fabrication.
I did what I had to do...
hunger made me do it all.

Should God help those who do not have enough to eat?

No, we ought to.
And in doing so, we offer them our friendship too.

Remember that
the next time you have a warm cookie.


Copyright January 24, 2015 All Rights Are Reserved By This Author
Straight from her Tilt-a-World Meloo/Melissa Howells Copyright
All Poetry/Prose/Ideas/Rants are the legal property of this writer.

Thank You for Reading
Written Directly to the Page.





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