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The Petty Player Who Rarely Sleeps

I'd Like A Taste (The Wolf Said)

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I'd Like To Be Your Shirt (when you wake up in the morning)



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Nothing's Sadder Than A Rose

The Great Tsunami Of Our Growing Grief written 3/2.2021--retitled 3/14/2021

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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)

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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

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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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Time-Time (or Leading With My Chin)




twelve hours the clock has
and I stand near the top of the hour

there are those that would
surmise I'm nearly out of time
I wonder if I've got
enough some days
left to stand in

time is precious
so then, why would I really need to stop
or to dream about how
I've paid for the stuff
or wasted it

why do I stop at all

while these last precious bits
sift through my fingers

haven't I squandered enough

I'll do it no longer

I can't call the moments back
except to recall them

and in some ways
the memory brings bitterness
sometimes a wearying trickle of sadness

but worse at night
comes a uninvited
gnawing anxious fear
a feeling of wasting

it leaves me feeling
scooped out
un-human
staring specter-like
into a darkness which seems to expand

I wanted for something more and
couldn't put my fingers 'round it

what's unsettling is
I might've played it safe
so safe that I
kept controversy to myself
not wanting to make any current
until I'd had enough

if I were braver
instead had ridden the crest of the waves

these words come quite easily now
with experience and age
so much that swimming against the tide
is now my past-time

who are these people who seem to
live their lives so effortlessly
while I wear my struggle
an armadillo

I know
I am who I was
mostly
leading with my chin

always been told that
I haven't learned
and how to begin
but never would follow another's direction

I have
my own

I see clearly now
for once
that I've taken it


(the mirror reflects
 at times,
back to me,
the deeper scars where I lead
with my chin.)



Copyright directly to the page September 5 2015
All Legal Rights Are Reserved By This Author
Meloo/Melissa A Howells Straight From Her Tilt-a-World

All ideas, rants, poetry/prose are the expressed legal property of this writer/author

Edits made September 9, 2015 for greater clarity





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