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A Start Again...(I Green-Dreamed Again Last Night)

two out of three people

Lonesome Love

All The Changing....


Night Train

Some Children Have Nightmares (tentative title)

Home, Ghuey, Sweet Home

A Dog Should Have His Tail...

Enough to Clear The Clouds Away 4/13/2019

Checking Out


Hope Is Sometimes The Best Of All You've Got (definition poem)

Last Night

Someone Send Out A Search Party

Crows...writing exercise in honor of April /National Poetry month


Only The Choice To Be

When People Go

The Day You Left (Words From A Half-Remembered Dream)

Wake Wake Wake

It Is In The Rain

Dream Goblins Of The Night

Wake And Remember

Unwelcomed Like So Much Unfinished Business

In March (Finally, Spring 2016)

All For Algernon

Weak In The Knees

The Finisher's Song

Nothing's Sadder Than A Rose

All Beings Considered

This Is It

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We All Fall Down

see the photo above the mantle

three children pose in the sunlight
wearing their best
on Easter morning

in the center
the eldest girl
wearing a pale pink cape
a creation her mother has sewn
to improve her appearance

on one side stands
the youngest boy
freckle-faced and squinty-eyed
wearing a plaid jacket
sewn also by the mother
a project more complicated and challenging
and hence more suitable for her favored one

on the left side
but meaning something more sinister
in the real true sense
leans the middle son
the first son born only favored of the Father
his face filled with laughter
his mouth a raucous twisting smile
he is bent backwards in a grimace of joy
he's not looking into the camera
he wears a navy blue vest and a red bowtie
the armor of the fool and the clown

see how the curtains are closed in the house behind them
hiding all of the little horrors within
away from the prying eyes of neighbors

what do you see

do you notice how two of them are
holding hands on one side
and how one child stands slightly apart
barely smiles

this will tell you something
about the future

Copyright June 19 2016 All Rights Reserved
By this AUTHUR
Meloo Melissa A Howells straight from her
This Writer Reserves and Retains all
WRITTEN JUNE 19 2016 at 12:06PM PST

I have refashioned this poem as a result
of a negative experience at one of those little
cheese and wine affairs a poetry meet-up.

I did not think it needed clarification
but because of the piling on that took place
at a poetry meet up I have nipped and tucked this in
surgically. It still suits my sensibilities in the end.
Which it should since I am the writer and
this is my story. Some critics insists on being
right and when they have a little too much wine
obtuse about their behavours. A little too much
alcohol only seems to make some people's demons
that much more shiny. Alcohol doesn't turn
people into demons. There is no such thing
as demon alcohol. It is the other way around.

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