meloostraightfromhertilt-a-world

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Unseen, The Lilacs And The Daffodils

Nothing's Sadder Than A Rose

A Man Of The Clouds

The Cruel In The World (Blue Bag Metaphor)

Somtimes in Surrender



Encounter Before Dawn

Shedding Your Skin

Liminality

A Smattering Of Mattering (How Do You Matter)

NEEDING /KNEADING MORE (sometimes)

WHAT WILL YOU THINK GENTLE READER, AFTER YOU'VE FINISHED READING THIS?...We Are All Star Children

Not My Season

I Will Return

Like The Wind In The Middle Of The Night

The Hoping

Better To Bend Than Be Broken (CHANGE)

Belle Du Jovan

The Hope Of All These Things Which Would Never Come In a Box

The Best Revenge (For All Your Critic's Critiques)

Informed Through Pain

All Too Clearly Now

The Birds Are Such Un-numbering Creatures of Distant Hitchcockian Past

Shrine

Silver-Tongued Devil

TONIGHT

The Factory of Resentments

Expect Yourself

They Grew (A Poem From The Imaginarium)

One Which Brings Me Unending Release

Where The Weird Actually Tried To Turn Pro

Accountants

Within The Green Wind Becomes The Fall

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All Too Clearly Now


most are pleased
having words dedicated to them
I'm fairly certain
you would not be
pleased

I see you
all too clearly
brother
it is as if someone turned off the sun
and made you the center of the universe
instead

I think you'd wish me dead
I'm the odds on favorite
You know the score
what are the odds
what is the pointspread
to wishing me dead...

I know I have been gone
or at least missing
for nearly as long as I have been alive

the problem then is
seeing you all too clearly
I'd rather not see you nearly
this well

the spit and polish of you melted away
the veneers between us worn thin
portending an expanding emptiness
the eventual super nova
darkness
and then decay

you regale in how you believe
I never knew you
well I almost wish I never knew you too
at least the person you've become

I will concur
I don't have to be demure to say
I'm not one wit like you

best to declare our irreconciable
differences
that is what the difference is
between us
you so ready to give up
me the ghost and all her memories

the truth is a songbird
singing far off and flown away
and you are tuneless
no song of love for me today
or any other day
your heart no longer hears mine beating

like bad weather
I cannot wish you and your
clouds away
like part of my past and blood
I can not
exsanguinate you*


legal copyright for this poem/work
12:41pm July 3 2018/time date stamped
and also for this writer Melissa A Howells
and also for this legally copyrighted site title
Meloo Straight From Her Tilt-a-World

*when something is exsanguinated...the blood is removed...
completely drained...when it comes to ties of blood; however,
the blood is much more difficult to remove





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