meloostraightfromhertilt-a-world

      Poet's Home             All Poetry       Sign Up!  Login
© 2000-2020 Individual Authors of the Poetry. All rights reserved by authors.   352534 Poems Read.

Search for Poetry

   


Read Poetry
Wisdom of the Infinite

If Prejudice Were Dumb And Could Not Speak

The Differences

The Springtime Shadows Play Games Upon The Wall

A Little Bit of Harlem in Your Life



The Voice Lost In the Wires

Home, Ghuey, Sweet Home

All Beings Considered

After Wide Sargasso Sea

Great Big Waterproof World

The Storm

I Turn Forward

Patch-Worked Trilogy

And Then It Wasn't Hard To Be Eight Years Old

Prairie Town Progress

Beyond Door Number Three

Great Spirit

Elise, Elise

The Make-Up of Molecules

Someone Send Out A Search Party

Make (of) Me A Snow Angel

Threading Myself Through The River Called Night

Not For The Bloom of Tears Cultivated These Last 100 Years

The Dreaming Life ( A Series Of Dream Vignettes)

Dragons

HOW

EVENTUALLY...

THERE WILL BE MORE ...

At Night I Dream of Vampires Who Have No Bad Intentions

morning thoughts (begin again)

Human History is Pockmarked With Tragedy

Unseen, The Lilacs And The Daffodils

More Poetry >>

 
Features

  Sign Guestbook

Read Guestbook

 
   

I Would Be Happy, Yes I Would


I would be happy to be a bird
a sparrow
whenever I see
the brown mottled fellow
I can not help but smile
maybe its way of moving
flitting around
it seems so cheerful
affirming life

I would be happy to be a tree
in a deep forest
in the protected lands
at the beginning of time
a fragrant red giant reaching my arms
towards heaven

I would be happy to be a stream
rushing on to feel
the flowing itch of pebbles and rocks
as I polish and wear their uneven edges down
wind my way to create wider rivers, gorges
rage on forward to meet
the salted spew of the sea

I would be happy to be a hypnotic cloud
a pendulous dream in the wishful blue deep
sacred as hours
calibrating moments as silence speaks
wordless nameless floating
with a sigh

a small dark voice whispers
words of hating:

aren't we all
formed once then dissipated?
then one-time happy,
eventually next-time changed.
soon enough swallowed whole
with the passing of time...
chasing what we once were only
in dreams and nightmares.

Into every happiness, a bit of darkness tries
to enter in.


Copyright 5/13/105 All Rights Are Reserved By This Author
Meloo/Melissa A Howells Straight from her Tilt-a-World
Written straight to the page in the afternoon at The Belmont.





Vote for this poem

Please Comment On This Poem

Comments

 Email Address

 

Vote for this poem