meloostraightfromhertilt-a-world

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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

They Grew (A Poem From The Imaginarium)

One Which Brings Me Unending Release

Where The Weird Actually Tried To Turn Pro

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********

inside this cell
(where I live)
I type away
inside this little cave
(my heart)
and there are many more like me--
of my kind
in equal cells and caves
who scribble or type
and pound away
on little clicking keys
punch on clacking plastic making words
sentences for ourselves to read
and trying to make sense of it all--

but who will read us
who will care
this is not even a page
it cannot be burnt
nor is it indellible

all words fade away as I age
I've seen those living in little cells
I've witness words pouring from caves
streaming out from fading eyes
crumbling pie-crust dreams

the unspoken hopes of sputtered-out youth
the long agos of what could have been

what is now
within this little cell
inside my tiny cave
and in
the smaller places where I dwell

the large pains I share with the few
I manage to hold onto now
I do my best to share
using clicking keys
to write brief sentences
which could never contain within them
an entire life

how does it come to this
this smallness
this meanness
this estimation of one's life?

********

LEGAL COPYRIGHT FOR THIS POEM WRITTEN FROM THE HEART DIRECTLY TO THE KEYS
7:52 pm  PACIFIC STANDARD TIME--TIME AND DATE STAMPED AND ALSO FOR THIS
FADING POET MELISSA A. HOWELLS AND ALSO FOR THIS LEGALL COPYRIGHTED SITE TITLE
IF IT DOES ANY GOOD AT ALL...ONE MORE CHECK IN FROM
MELOO STRAIGHT FROM HER TILT-A-WORLD

edits 11:26AM PST 9/13/2019 I think this will make much more sense
to those who previously did not understand.





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