meloostraightfromhertilt-a-world

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Home, Ghuey, Sweet Home

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)



Like a Small Child Tucked Into

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)

From The Point Of A Star

Someone Send Out A Search Party

If I Were Your Island....

Spokes Spoken

Plain Speakin' (Lyrical Poem)

All Beings Considered

It Is The Rain

I Talk To A Machine In My Darkness

I Long For Stars

This Is It

Its Their Problem

Not For The Bloom of Tears Cultivated These Last 100 Years

the life and times of Medusa

Max on the max

Your Next New Dying Black Swan

For the Years of Dancing (Dance Hall Days Gone)

Make (of) Me A Snow Angel

Someone Burned The Trees

Crowded Out

Sometimes Love Comes With Electricity

I Feel Fine(r)

Try To Have A Good Night

Better To Bend Than Be Broken (CHANGE)

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Ghost Fox


in the dream
I have four white socked feet
with delicate black-painted toes
my coat is lustrous
dappled with radiant multi-hues
of the blazing sun

I slink into the edges
of the scenery
I am chicanery
I am sly-wise
but, I am hated
despised for who I am
though I don't know or care to know why
I am what I am
and I like me...

one very singular creature
no one quite like me
how my collective molecules
reek with what's unique
let them ridicule my natural nature

I will smile
and
I will eat grapes
I will gorge on chickens
sucking bloody marrow out of their fragile bones
just before it thickens
then devour a full clutch of their raw progeny
I am SO artful at Dodgery

it gives me glee

I see into their darkness
and then I flee
saying good-bye to all of their misunderstandings
and misinformed hatred of me

see how I run

scrambling away
with a satisfied sniff
leaving no trace but toe deep footprints
not even a whiff
of my artful presence  

the ghost fox
in white socks
the black masked marauder
and illustrious carmine colored thief
and happily-mad plotter
I am so well-pleased being me

I might never wake up.

date/time stamped May 1 2018/5:55pm PST
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





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