Poet's Home             All Poetry       Sign Up!  Login
© 2000-2021 Individual Authors of the Poetry. All rights reserved by authors.   400102 Poems Read.

Search for Poetry


Read Poetry
<< [Previous]

Knock, Then Come Through

Elise, Elise

Great Big Waterproof World

The Blue Buffalo

Little Man Orange--My Mister Peanut Butter Trout

Wisdom of the Infinite


The Differences

The Springtime Shadows Play Games Upon The Wall

I Turn Forward

The Storm

Prairie Town Progress

Beyond Door Number Three

The Make-Up of Molecules

I Will Return

Marinate On This

A Smattering Of Mattering (How Do You Matter)

Threading Myself Through The River Called Night

And Then It Wasn't Hard To Be Eight Years Old

from the tomb of three days sleeping

So You Do (May 10, 2010 written for June 1987)

Lemonade Days and Rhubarb Pies

Life Among Clouds




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

A Man Of The Clouds

The Cruel In The World (Blue Bag Metaphor)

More Poetry >>


  Sign Guestbook

Read Guestbook


For Another Mean New Sun.

heavy is the air
heavy are her steps
pinned to the pavement
un-slagging heat
strangles every beat of life

desert flower girl lost
her petals drooped and torn
no sign of rain
no gesture of kindness
no heaven sighing
no filled drinking cup
down to her last lick of luck

handmade sign begs mercy
nothing forthcoming
skin burnished brick
but not the sort made of shelter
not for her nor her dog--
little protection between her
and some one who might do her harm

each day the same
recycled like hash
thumb out by the highway
shouts of derision
beguiled and belittled
thought less than recycled trash

fitful sleep in the night
next day to be be again undone
rising and shining in the morning
for another mean new sun

legal copyright for this poem August 4 2019 5:00PM PST
time date stamped and also for this poet Melissa A Howells
and also for this legally copyrighted site title

living closer to the standard at which you are comfortable at.
Generosity begins with attitudes and the heart...
and comes back to you in good will and karma.

The person you sneer at on the highway might be the next new
Bob Dylan or Georgia O'Keefe or Frank LLoyd Wright
that you zoom on by without a second thought.

People are being put in cages in prisons/super maxes funded through
the dollars you spend on Amazon. Families are separated, being
abused and put in cages at our borders.  
Don't think of people in terms of "groups"...think
of them as individuals with lives and people who love them.
It might be less possible then to ignore their pain and
get outside of yours to help out in some small...but meaningful way.
That is why you were put here. To be of service when you can.


Vote for this poem

Please Comment On This Poem


 Email Address


Vote for this poem