meloostraightfromhertilt-a-world

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A Little Bit of Harlem in Your Life

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

Just Beyond The Door

Great Spirit

Elise, Elise



MOLECULES

Someone Send Out A Search Party

Make (of) Me A Snow Angel

threading myself through the river of night

After Wide Sargasso Sea

Not For The Bloom of Tears Cultivated These Last 100 Years

The Dreaming Life ( A Series Of Dream Vignettes)

Dragons

HOW

EVENTUALLY...

THERE WILL BE MORE ...

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

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

How Does It, 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

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It Feels Better To Be Unfinished (Wish-Unspoken, But With My Eyes)


I saw a sign
it read:
to be understood
is good,
but I thought...
its better to fly
from all interpretations.

The wind today
is smooth and light,
as it barely stipples my face.
I feel alive
quickened by its touch.

I wish I could soar,
glide the thermals
to somewhere more
somewhere new--
to be distant
and with the distances.

I often feel my best self
only with and in the wind.

Some days, though,
I feel lonely and alone.
Yet, the wind moves me.

Some days I stand tall,
resolute...
but still not completely straight.
Pelted by the rain
while the wind pushes me.

I'm not the pebble who knows
when it is time to move,
nor be moved

Some nights I lie awake
listening to the roaring sea.
Its thrashing
sounds like desperation
and restlessness.

In my shoulders
I feel an itch
the growing pain
of a fledgling's wings.

I have skies and mountains to cross,
and more oceans to see,
and many distances yet
to travel.

It feels better
to be unfinished,
even at times
to unravel.

Please:
Let us never tell one another
what to do...
but be patient enough
to listen...

(thank you)

legal copyright for this poem
August 27 2018...4:00pm PST time date stamped
and also for this Author/Poet/Writer
Melissa A Howells
and also for this legally copyrighted site title
Meloo Straight From Her Tilt-A-World
Re-edited 11:32A>M> December 5, 2018





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