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Wisdom of the Infinite

If Prejudice Were Dumb And Could Not Speak

The Differences

The Springtime Shadows Play Games Upon The Wall

A Little Bit of Harlem in Your Life

The Voice Lost In the Wires

Home, Ghuey, Sweet Home

All Beings Considered

After Wide Sargasso Sea

Great Big Waterproof World

The Storm

I Turn Forward

Patch-Worked Trilogy

And Then It Wasn't Hard To Be Eight Years Old

Prairie Town Progress

Beyond Door Number Three

Great Spirit

Elise, Elise

The Make-Up of Molecules

Someone Send Out A Search Party

Make (of) Me A Snow Angel

Threading Myself Through The River Called Night

Not For The Bloom of Tears Cultivated These Last 100 Years

The Dreaming Life ( A Series Of Dream Vignettes)





At Night I Dream of Vampires Who Have No Bad Intentions

morning thoughts (begin again)

Human History is Pockmarked With Tragedy

Unseen, The Lilacs And The Daffodils

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What It Means To Go Missing

How can I elaborate on
something gone
but not quite here

most parts oxygen
not resembling air
but floating away
far far from itself

what view would describe it
this incalculable thing?

once it was someone
now its become a thing
far far removed
as if it lived in a tower
on a rocky island
in a narrow narrow inlet
surrounded by a Salton sea
once whole but no longer a part
of the whole
a mere farthing of reality

why do people look
but do not examine
don't move too near
its too dear a prospect
to get too close

this specimen doesn't like proximity
nor spectators with spectacles near
this being was once varied and real
but has been altered

some spring in her sprung
and now merely falters

the experience of seeing her is
like looking down into the well of a sink
as something shimmers down its pipes
or is it more like
staring up into a rosy-pink morning
trying to recall a distant night...

was there ever, youth
how I/you/we feel so-so removed
from myself/ourselves
I've become a stranger gaping
but not daring,
to look in

they say I've always led with my shins
then fallen down
gotten bruised
I never healed well

did they/do they know
you can't stop the deep snows from coming
or what it means to go missing
from your life
as well,
ah, these are truly not

Not everything is required to make absolute sense;
however, this makes sense to me and to many I know, now.
And that makes all the difference, to me.

legal copyright for this poem/work/manifesto
and also for this author/writer/poet
Melissa A. Howells and also for this legally
copyrighted site title: Meloo Straight From Her Tilt-a-World

time/date stamped 3:45pm PST February 27, 2018

thank you for reading and constructive

Re-edited for clarity/punctuation/spelling
on 4/17/2018 2:18PM PST and time date stamped
 and legally copyrighted

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