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Laughing Maid

TO BE AN ANGEL...

Some Women/Some Woman

The Knowledge...

Time Does Not Recognize Me



I'm A Slug

Home, Ghuey, Sweet Home

If This Is Any Art For Which You Care

I Talk To A Machine In My Darkness

I Long For Stars

And Even Stars Die

Crowded Out

So You Do (May 10, 2010 written for June 1987)

All Beings Considered

Storms

what makes a monster (sympathy for the monster)

Max on the max

why We celebrate the losers

Make (of) Me A Snow Angel

The Times Have Come Back Of Great Want And Lack, This Is The New Great Depression

The Light Goes On In The Attic (WeAll Have Addictons)

Little Water Bug ( learning the lesson of true pain)

Hope You Enjoyed The Eclipse While It Lasted

Written For My Father Who Isn't Here To Know

I Feel Fine(r)

And With Words I Let Them Go

Used to Think I Could Fix Them.

Sometimes Love Comes With Electricity

Into The Swirling Sea Of White.

Boy Restored

Life's A Candle

Malla Batsick

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Butterfly Girls Like Me Were Meant To Fly


I was born
a child of the sixties
but minus two short years
I could have been a wild wild-child
from the start
a bright wide-eyed hippie girl

but my bad intentions
taught me to listen
and behave
when I should have been
making friend with much better times
and NOT fine manners
only to have become their slave

and when I tried to settle into
that much narrower space
that didn't match
it was to a sin of true
self-omission
to which I had married and attached

in my past
I was too busy denying
my lightest freer self
and eking out a living with those
malingering on the dustier shelves

but now I know
I was meant for better things
like shedding my old skin and
spreading out my newly colored wings

butterfly girls like me
were always
(in all ways)
meant to fly


LEGAL COPYRIGHT DECEMBER 11 2016
8;10 PM PST FOR THIS WORK BY THIS
AUTHOR FOR THIS SITE TITLE
MELOO STRAIGHT FROM HER TILT-A-WORLD
MELISSA A HOWELLS/ VINTAGE 1958
GIRL OF DECEMBER

THANK YOU FOR READING MY POETRY












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