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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)



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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Throne Of Stars

not all strong women are strong enough
to fall out of love
she whispered from the silvery screen
as if she really knew something important
worth memorizing

some women are strong
than other women are
and some men learn to be
strong differently

this was the dialog of an actress I admired
in a movie about a woman
at a crossroads
in a moment of dangerous opportunity

I was thinking then
in that moment:
if only ALL hearts
had regenerative properties
like those of the starfish
if I injured any part of my heart
would it not be a feat
if I could instantly regenerate it
and that I could regenerate any piece of it
whenever something went wrong...

statistically speaking
life and love do go wrong
being fraught
with occasional complications

I think some women have eyes like oceans
and stormy as seas
salt water flows from them endlessly
I've been that woman
at times
I have known men like this too
sensitive and open

tears can flavor poetry
as salt makes food palatable
and tears too
clean and clear the tangled
gardens of all hearts

I've been amid the ruin of a storm
enveloped in gales of tears
not knowing what island
is out there
a haven in which to land

tears are never wasted
just as a strong woman may cry many
just as a strong man may cry too

it matters if
no one notices
tears are not temporary inconveniences
but a necessity

why then do tears
sometimes receive inattention,
 a turn of the head

could it be we all don't possess
paddles and oars
the skill of navigating water?

tears spring
from the wounded soul
and provide the one who cries with

tenderness is a kind of mending
when  a soul is exposed
believes itself broken
tears stitch it back

how it takes great strength
great resolve
to cry
to undertake a perilous journey
and heave that line out onto
the ocean

how lucky I am
when I,
when this little star fish
found herself
attached to one and then another
star fish
and how we became not one
but part of a throne
of little stars

(how we've regenerated our hearts
navigating through life and love
we are a throne of stars...)

original copyright December 29 2017
for this work/poem and also for this
little star of an author
Melissa A. Howells and also for
this legally copyrighted site title
Meloo Straight From Her Tilt-a-World

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