meloostraightfromhertilt-a-world

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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

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Odd Thoughts and Juxtapositions


whenever I discover a partially full
disposable coffee drinking cup
stranded on the street

I cannot resist the urge
to tip it
over

watch the coffee form into dark
rivulets imaginary rivers rushing down
sidewalks creating miniature streams

I like to watch the directions
the randomness in which
the liquid glides and turns and pools

I think to myself
life is that way
wild and rushing
haphazard unplanned-for
accidental

I like to give homeless people something
they like to eat or drink
but I ask them first about their
preferences
and couch them within my meager budget's reasonableness

random acts of kindness seem to satisfy and please
on both ends of the spectrum
creating rainbows within and without

people feel like people again
its a kind of transformation that a little
act of giving can do
making one another feel whole again
I feel like a person and hopefully
they do once more

too often they get pushed along
treated more or less worse than curbside furniture
or like prisoners of their unfortunate circumstances
and reminded for it as daily punishment

I don't think people start out choosing
to be homeless
anymore than that cup of coffee got left
behind by the bus stop

I pick up the coffee cup after I have
kicked it over for fun

who picks up the Homeless from their
street corners beside the police...

why am I putting these two ideas together
in my head?


legal Copyright 7/21/2015 written directly to the page from thoughts on the bus
All rights are reserved by this Author Meloo/Melissa A Howells
Straight from Her Tilt-a-World

editing (perhaps) later.

 All ideas/rants/poetry/prose are the expressed LEGAL PROPERTY
OF THIS WRITER/AUTHOR.

LEGAL PROPERTY/COPYRIGHT of this WORK AND THIS SITE TITLE
BY THIS Writer/Author.





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