meloostraightfromhertilt-a-world

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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

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

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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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