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In The Sanctuary Of My Head

The Broken-Winged Birds and People (re-edited 4/5/2323 3:03PM PST) (re-edited 11:14am PST 2/23/2023)

The Hell Of Winter (re-edited 4:27pm PST 3/9/2023)

My Grey Haired Love...La La Lullaby , La La Lullaby My Love

THE HEART IS AN ORGAN ON FIRE



When Mr. Bemish Lost His Last Good Pair of Glasses

Kathy Brown Kathy Brown

Something Not Quite Right About Here (Vortex) re-edited 1/26/2023

THE COOL TILES BENEATH MY FEET REMIND ME

The Way Of The Crow

DO YOU TURN THE LIGHTS SO YOU CAN SLEEP?

The Springtime Shadows Play Games Upon The Wall

CHRONICLER OF DREAMS

YET ANOTHER ANTI-POETRY POEM ( re-edited 11/2/2022)

You Do As You Please 8/17/2005 found poem, readjusted 6/20/22

HERE WE SIT AT OUR TABLE 2/19/2022

Much Better Than This ( A Conversation With The Universe)

The Straight Story (What Happens When The Writer Inserts You Into Her Story)

THE TIDE CALLED LONELINESS

A Girl Always Leaning Forward Looking for A Breeze

Entanglements

Have You Ever... (DECEMBER 4/2021)

Appetites

How I Still Love You

The Smile Which Eludes @

He Says To Me, I Think Too Much (and hence dream too much as well)

When You Learn Who You Really Are And What Is...

Anti-Poem Number Three 8/2/2022 Or, A Poem Your Proper Mother Wouldn't Write

Breathing On My Own

A Girl Is More Than a Beautiful Box re-edited 10:15pm PST 1/31/22

I LOVE YOU ALWAYS ANYWAY AND INSTEAD

Talk To Me In The Dark 7/8/2022

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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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