meloostraightfromhertilt-a-world

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Home, Ghuey, Sweet Home

Call This 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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I Am Time


the face in the mirror
won't answer me
"I have questions..." I say
"I demand answers."
the face remains silent, resolute
the lips embroidered with purple silk
the eyes are barriers of defiance
the brows twin broods of resolve
the hair malignant and writhing
corkscrewed tines in disarray
"Hello!" I say.
picking up a brick from my stack to shatter
the reflection
hers
the face in the mirror collapses
the shoulders hunch like two folding bridges
the hands rise as if to fend off a blow
the purple silken seam dissolves
as the hands pull on the embroidery threads
"There's no need for impatience,
nor insolence..." She says.
the face speaks
she responds as if I am slow-witted
"I am Time..." She declares.
"I answer all."
"I know what becomes of us..."


legal copyright for this poem
and also for this author
Melissa A. Howells
and also for this legally copyrighted site title
Meloo Straight From Her Tilt-a-World
December 7. 2017 2017 11:47Am PST date/time stamped
author retains all legal copyrights





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