meloostraightfromhertilt-a-world

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Within The Green Wind Becomes The Fall

Open Lines

You Got Your Lilly Back

Errands (WHAT ARE YOUR UNOFFICIALLY APPOINTED ERRANDS?)

I Write This To Remember



Marinate On This

This Snake

What Could a Death Meet-Up Have To Offer?

Where The Dead Don't Mind...

Canis Latrans

I Wish God Had Better Magic

For Another Mean New Sun.

It Came To Me While Doing Laundry On A Sunday Looking For Some Blank Space To Write In Before It Was All Gone...

THE POCKET DOOR

Nameless

Night Train

HOME

Different

wandering the rolling hills ...(written for his model)

All You Have To Do Is Breathe....

Funny, Not Funny

cat speech

A Start Again...(I Green-Dreamed Again Last Night)

Checking Out

All The Changing....

two out of three people

Lonesome Love

A Dog Should Have His Tail...

Some Children Have Nightmares (tentative title)

Enough to Clear The Clouds Away 4/13/2019

Last Night

Only The Choice To Be

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Unknowing


Depression is a deep blue bowl
with old sour milk
in which the mouse nearly drowns
because he thinks only of how thirsty he is
and not how to climb out.

Sadness is that same blue bowl
with a wide crack
which is a means for the light to escape
and move on to a new place
the mouse,
doesn't even enter into the equation.
he's left the room to move on
and find his next piece of tasty cheese...
such is the difference between these two storylines.

The unknowing dream is a dream
in which there is a sticky thin sheet
so filmy I walk into it
and get caught.

I see Her
and find I cannot move on.

She's frail, precious and pale
a singular puff-cloud negotiating
a sky of darker clouds
wearing a sack-gown of daisy flannel

Sitting Indian-style
wide-eyed in front
of a box blaring inscrutable language
She's barely aware of me...
Hello isn't a word
which registers
until a new light enters into Her eyes.

But I  wait and I wait
and the gauzy film once thin
now grows opaque.

The incoming waves of Her thoughts
have cast me adrift off to sea...
She doesn't know me.

She is as Real As Flesh
to me
but I have no name
I am eclipsed
I have no address
for the Collapsed House
of All of Her Memory.


legal copyright for this poem
directly to the page
and also for this writer

Melissa A Howells
and also for this legally  copyrighted site title

Meloo Straight From Her Tilt-a-World
7:11am PST October 19th 2018.
9:56 PM final edit Friday October 19, 2018 PST





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