meloostraightfromhertilt-a-world

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The Best Revenge (For All Your Critic's Critiques)

Home, Ghuey, Sweet Home

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Not For The Bloom of Tears Cultivated These Last 100 Years



All Too Clearly Now

Informed Through Pain

Sometimes In Losing I Have Gained A Lot

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Expect Yourself

TONIGHT

I WILL RETURN

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Within The Green Wind Becomes The Fall

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You Got Your Lilly Back

I Write This To Remember

Errands (WHAT ARE YOUR UNOFFICIALLY APPOINTED ERRANDS?)

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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.





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