meloostraightfromhertilt-a-world

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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

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

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The Hoping


she sleeps wrapped
silent
as a bouquet of black flowers
editing the pauses between
her thoughts

the fan whispers
a language
all of its own
tremulous
breathless
mimicking the outside
rising whistling wind

a cloud looms and floats
within her mind
the thought of returning home
to a place
she's yet to discover

next to her,
sonorous
and snoring
he is...
tossed on the waves
of his breath-filled sleep
he wrestles with formless phantoms
cunning, they are and
how do they know how
to read his thoughts?

kissing his cheek
murmuring
she half-speaks:

"you're alright sweet pea,
I'm here..."

knowing
they both need their days
in the sun
to evaporate their fear

when I'm on the outside
looking in
I think
where's my path...
where do I fit?

there's gaps in my  breathing
as I lie awake in your bed
small gasps
restlessness
questions
the hoping for better
and mixed in the gratitude
for some days
just how it is

knowing the fine regard
how they share for one other
is the saving glue
the glimmer of light
which turns blackness
into sunrise
and dawning pink-tinged blue.


LEGAL COPYRIGHT FOR THIS POEM 4;49PM PST TIME/DATE STAMPED
AND ALSO FOR THIS AUTHOR/WRITER/POET MELISSA A. HOWELLS
AND ALSO FOR THIS LEGALLY COPYRIGHTED SITE TITLE
MELOO STRAIGHT FROM  HER TILT-A-WORLD









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