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The Petty Player Who Rarely Sleeps

I'd Like A Taste (The Wolf Said)

The Crow Is A Black Bird

When I Start to Bloom

I'd Like To Be Your Shirt (when you wake up in the morning)



All Beings Considered

Words Between Edward And Jane

Nothing's Sadder Than A Rose

The Great Tsunami Of Our Growing Grief written 3/2.2021--retitled 3/14/2021

After Wide Sargasso Sea ( For Those of You Readers Who Have Empathy For the First Mrs. Rochester.)

WAITING ON THE WORLD (March/February 2021 poetry)

Wild and Unraveling

What Must Be

These Hands Exist July 4 2023 rei-edited 7/12/2023

I Am The Color Of Black

The Tide of Your Lies (2019-2023)

How I Wanted Your Pearls 6/24/2023 WRITTEN DIRECTLY TO THE PAGE

Love Wants What Love Wants re-edited 5/31/023

Winter's Been Too Long.... 4/18/2023 (LONGING)

The Dreaming Life ( A Series Of Dream Vignettes)

Like A Small Street Dog Lured In By The Promise Of Meat

This Is What Mermaids Dream Of

At Night, As I Dream of Vampires Who Have No Bad Intentions

And You Will Be Called Ashes As You Leave ( from a dream)

Certainly No Bread 3/16/2022

Someone Send Out A Search Party

THE FAN , AT NIGHT, GIVES GOOD ADVICE completely re-edited, an entirely different poem

What Is The Price For Your Touch? re-editied 5/31/2023

Where Is My Bed With The Pleasing Tree -Lined View(NOW REEDITED)

Oh What Fine Physics (Before Me ,Lies) re-edtited @4/17/2023

If Prejudice Were Dumb And Could Not Speak

THE COMPANY THAT WE KEEP WITH THE ONE WITHIN

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Dream Goblins Of The Night



In a dream
I saw secrets,
the shadows
that were not
supposed to show.

All the people
became much smaller,
like little lies,
which when they try to escape,
have no place to go.

I saw them in their smallness
and their meanness.
And when I tried to hold them
they begged to be left alone.

As if I had some control.
As if I had some power.
As if I was a Behemoth
with great strength
and vitriol.

But I had none of this
and they unraveled from my grasp
as ones attention unravels
in a dream.

Their disappearance dismissed me
the air filled with the hissing
and spitting of their long litany
of lies
as they scurried off like rats
into the darker corners
of my mind.

Sitting up now gives me
new perspective.
Sitting up brings in new light.
As does
rubbing out the seeds of their
dark magic from within
the corners of my eyes.


(A dream poem which came to me later on in the morning...
during second sleep. I want to remember this, so I wrote it
down for the remembering.)


legal copyright for this poem 3/21/2019 6:27AM PST time/date stamped
and also for this writer/author/poet Melissa A. Howells and also for
this legally copyrighted site title: Meloo Straight From Her Tilt-a-World













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