meloostraightfromhertilt-a-world

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Home, Ghuey, Sweet Home

Call This Our Autumn

Nothing's Sadder Than A Rose

It Feels Better To Be Unfinished (Wish-Unspoken, But With My Eyes)

Evidence



Afterwards...

Falling Leaf, Falling Man/Woman, Rising Star

It Comes At Night

The Hot Seasons

Perhaps I Too, Was Frozen

You Are (I'm Here With You)

Joyce Will Soon Be Seventy-Something

All Too Clearly Now

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

Oh What A Fall

Last In Class

If This Is Any Art For Which You Care

Its About Waking In The Middle Of The Night And Having To Write It All Down

in-EFFECTIVE (Fragile)

I Long For Stars

From The Point Of A Star

Someone Send Out A Search Party

This Is It

If I Were Your Island....

Spokes Spoken

Plain Speakin' (Lyrical Poem)

All Beings Considered

It Is The Rain

Like a Small Child Tucked Into

I Talk To A Machine In My Darkness

Its Their Problem

Not For The Bloom of Tears Cultivated These Last 100 Years

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Time Does Not Recognize Me


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time has no definite shape
though it feels somewhat like the formation of clouds
massing and then dissipating
building up billowing anvils in the sky
and then discharging great energy
I breathe the same air
recycled for billions of years
I am borrowing it
from the trees and animals which
were the first respirators of this new earth
this is why I owe this world
a debt
a debt of gratitude
a debt of responsibility to leave it as I used it
a debt to even the notion of time
a human construct
that the ages will not even recognize
time does not recognize me

even though I was here
I too shall be recycled
in time

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legal copyright for this poem
and also for this writer
Melissa A Howells
and also for this legally copyrighted site title
Meloo Straight From Her Tilt-a-World
11/10/2017 2:06pm PST time/date stamped





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