melissaahowells

      Poet's Home             All Poetry       Sign Up!  Login
© 2000-2022 Individual Authors of the Poetry. All rights reserved by authors.   518140 Poems Read.

Search for Poetry

   


Read Poetry
<< [Previous]

ANOTHER REFRIGERATOR POEM 7/2/2022

A NOT-S0-SILLY ANTI-POETRY DITTY

In And In Between The Silence 6/21/2022

Not Alone In the Darkness (As I Once Thought I Was)

Miss Tilt-a-World@



Each One Of Them Is Accounted For (And Matters)

Like Books Full Of Stories Stacked Behind Her

Call It Grace (another Anti-poem)

Lights Out

Saudade: the feeling of wanting to be near someone who is far and distant

That No One But I Will Know (anti-poetry)

To Be In The Way

For My Brother T. J. ( 7/15/2022)

That Once Respite Cave

Dr. Frankenstein's Surprise (Re-Galvanized)

A Stranger In a Strange And Angry Land.

Crimson Lake (From 2008, flashing forward to 2022/April 19)

Words Being Yours...Until The Grave 4/23/2022

The Fire Once Within Goes Cold From Lack

Summer Storms / Electric Monsters

Your Candle Burning In the Wind

On Sunny Days , As I Pose For The Skies 3/17/2022

You Are Not What You Think 3/7/2022 11:56Pm PST

We'll Decide That For YOU

Fisherman's Woman's Lament

That Time Love Took Off Running On Its Achilles Heels....

VALENTINE--WITHOUT YOU 2/19/2022

His Bitter Chocolate Heart (refrigerator magnet poem)

THE HOOVER DAM/NEWLY RE-CONSTRUCTED 2/19/2022

Tender Love New And Quick...

I COULD BECOME SOME KIND OF LUCKY 2/19/2022

UN-THREAD THE NEEDLE (OF TIME)

More Poetry >>

 
Features

  Sign Guestbook

Read Guestbook

 
   

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


they bloom like mushrooms
in the Spring
and seem to take over
everything
but
they're people
people like you and me
somebody's children
someone's older babies

they are problems
called eyesores all
and no one cares to hear
their calls
voiceless
useless eaters
when they can find a scrap
dumped into this heap of earth
called planet

have you ever roamed
had no bed to lie in
no safe place to call your own
be pushed around some
then some more
constantly turned on
and turned the cheek on
as if you'd be ignored
and perhaps were invisible
this is a country divisible
along the lines of the haves
and the haves some more
five schmucks in this world
own it all and want to keep it all to themselves
the key, the lock the very store
which might nourish us all
enough to more than just get by

I wonder what does God see when he looks down

I wonder why the well-off don't see
when they look around
I think
I believe
they are gluttonously greedy
deaf, mute and blind
and forever carrying the gavel in their mind
with their life and death judgements
those born on third base
thinking somehow they'd hit the home run

what a mess you've made of this world
are you happy with your meager contributions
your thoughtless accomplishments
is there enough stuffed into your tight little pockets

I hope the villagers gather
from their little tumbling down
fragile tent towns
and the bulk of us good people
and run you monsters out of town


very rough draft
written directly to the page
my city has become a stage for this kind of transition
transitory existence and big money venture capitalists billionaires
interests colliding...and the resulting uglieness and hopelessness
left in its wake.

LEGAL COPYRIGHT FOR THIS WORK/RANT/POEM AND ALSO FOR
THIS AUTHOR/WRITER MELISSA A HOWELLS
AND ALSO  FOR THIS LEGALLY COPYRIGHTED SITE TITLE
MELOO STRAIGHT FROM HER TILT-A-WORLD

11AM PST October 29 2017. IN 1984 I WAS HOMELESS
RIGHT OUT OF COLLEGE, DUE TO WHATEVER UNFORTUNATE CIRCUMSTANCES
ALONE, FRAGILE OCCASIONALLY COUCH SURFING BUT MOSTLY
LIVING ON THE ROUGH, I USED FAST FOOD RESTAURANT WASHROOMS EACH
MORNING TO GET READY FOR WORK. I RECALL A HIGHLY STRESSFUL TIME
IN MY LIFE. A SORT OF SURREALNESS. A SEPARATENESS. A FEELING OF
INVISIBILITY IN THE OPEN. I CAN ONLY BEGIN TO IMAGINE WHAT
THE HOMELESS FOLKS FEEL TODAY BEING TOLD THEY ARE A PROBLEM
AND NOT PEOPLE.






Vote for this poem