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Home, Ghuey, Sweet Home

Someone Send Out A Search Party

If I Were Your Island....

All Beings Considered

It Is The Rain

I Talk To A Machine In My Darkness

I Long For Stars

This Is It

Its Their Problem

If This Is Any Art For Which You Care

the life and times of Medusa

Max on the max

Your Next New Dying Black Swan

For the Years of Dancing (Dance Hall Days Gone)

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

Not For The Bloom of Tears Cultivated These Last 100 Years

Make (of) Me A Snow Angel

Someone Burned The Trees

Crowded Out

Sometimes Love Comes With Electricity

I Feel Fine(r)

Try To Have A Good Night

Better To Bend Than Be Broken (CHANGE)

A Promise Is

Something More...

STRAIGHT FROM MY TILT-A-WORLD (legal copyright Melissa A Howells 6/13/2018 10:01am PST time/date stamped)

Les Animaux

Ghost Fox

A Little Bad Romance

I See A World

Where None Should Grow

Live And Let Live

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

some days
the light goes on in the attic
the consciousness begins to grow
I am my lover's heart
I am my brother's keeper
and also the keeper
of the sister I've yet to know

we're one and all
sons and daughters with a legacy
one of addiction
one of pain, one of grief
we point the finger to outsiders
that surround us
saying we're so not like them
but that's a false-front belief

all of us are addicts
this I've learned to know
all addicted to something or someone
all with baggage we have to let go

look at all the people you see
the parade of people on the street
some look fancy some look dirty
inside they're all the same
they're trying to be invisible and discreet
no one wants to expose their secrets
no one wants to have their sins laid bare
no one wants to know the world is lonely
that there are judges every where

sometimes the light goes on in the attic
sometimes what's up there lays undiscovered
the dusty files lie unclaimed unrecognized
and rarely seen
the truth is that we all are addicts
and if you think not
you're lost more than you seem

point the finger at the others
at the problems
call and label them what you will
but the problem is in the attic
and that its dark there and for some
it always will
be that way

our problems are our ladders
our worries make us whole
our secrets are better shouted
our weaknesses give us soul

gather up all the broken people
gather up the broken planet
gather up and bring them to your attic
see how a little light
helps you see yourself and your relationship
to it all
and then you become a part of something
and you become someone
become the light that attracts
a whole new world.

Legal Copyright for this poem/work and also for this
writer/author Melissa A Howells and also for this
legally copyright site title
Meloo Straight From Her Tilt-a-World

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