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The Petty Player Who Rarely Sleeps

I'd Like A Taste (The Wolf Said)

The Crow Is A Black Bird

When I Start to Bloom

I'd Like To Be Your Shirt (when you wake up in the morning)



All Beings Considered

Words Between Edward And Jane

Nothing's Sadder Than A Rose

The Great Tsunami Of Our Growing Grief written 3/2.2021--retitled 3/14/2021

After Wide Sargasso Sea ( For Those of You Readers Who Have Empathy For the First Mrs. Rochester.)

WAITING ON THE WORLD (March/February 2021 poetry)

Wild and Unraveling

What Must Be

These Hands Exist July 4 2023 rei-edited 7/12/2023

I Am The Color Of Black

The Tide of Your Lies (2019-2023)

How I Wanted Your Pearls 6/24/2023 WRITTEN DIRECTLY TO THE PAGE

Love Wants What Love Wants re-edited 5/31/023

Winter's Been Too Long.... 4/18/2023 (LONGING)

The Dreaming Life ( A Series Of Dream Vignettes)

Like A Small Street Dog Lured In By The Promise Of Meat

This Is What Mermaids Dream Of

At Night, As I Dream of Vampires Who Have No Bad Intentions

And You Will Be Called Ashes As You Leave ( from a dream)

Certainly No Bread 3/16/2022

Someone Send Out A Search Party

THE FAN , AT NIGHT, GIVES GOOD ADVICE completely re-edited, an entirely different poem

What Is The Price For Your Touch? re-editied 5/31/2023

Where Is My Bed With The Pleasing Tree -Lined View(NOW REEDITED)

Oh What Fine Physics (Before Me ,Lies) re-edtited @4/17/2023

If Prejudice Were Dumb And Could Not Speak

THE COMPANY THAT WE KEEP WITH THE ONE WITHIN

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The Seven Billion


there are seven billion of us here
crawling
over taking the earth
so many
yet there are many
who feel alone
it makes me wonder
me like one of the billions of stars
in one large expanding galaxy
separate
yet part of a whole
but not seeing it
until a supernova
obliterates
but not the silence
space has no noise
loneliness does
it is the ticking of a clock echoing
it is the thrumming hum of the refrigerator
and in the drone of stranger's voices on the television
all of them mechanical
leaving us to feel our differentness
the passage of time
and those who are no longer here
what of the seven billion
they are not here
somewhere out there
in their own separate universe

why is it then that there is
an inheritance of such great loneliness
this pandemic of grieving and grief
when we share so much more
than not
differences so miniscule
you can count them in molecules
this is what my heart says to me
how it informs me
when I look into the faces
of others
none the stranger than me

who do you see when
you gaze into a mirror
I see me
multiplied
into seven billion faces
 



I believe in random acts of kindness
it is a necessity

written from the originating thought
directly to the page
legal copyright for this work/poem
and also for this writer Melissa A Howells
and also for this legally copyrighted site title
Meloo Straight From Her Tilt-a-World

I trust all is well for you
in your universe...

January 24 2018/9:55pm PST
written on the eve of my paternal
Grandfather's birthday
and for all of those few in my life
that matter to me





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