meloostraightfromhertilt-a-world

      Poet's Home             All Poetry       Sign Up!  Login
© 2000-2019 Individual Authors of the Poetry. All rights reserved by authors.   338300 Poems Read.

Search for Poetry

   


Read Poetry
Home, Ghuey, Sweet Home

All Beings Considered

I Long For Stars

The Best Revenge (For All Your Critic's Critiques)

Your Next New Dying Black Swan



The Dreaming Life ( A Series Of Dream Vignettes)

Nothing's Sadder Than A Rose

Not For The Bloom of Tears Cultivated These Last 100 Years

All Too Clearly Now

If This Is Any Art For Which You Care

Informed Through Pain

Sometimes In Losing I Have Gained A Lot

A Man Of The Clouds

The Birds Are Such Un-numbering Creatures of Distant Hitchcockian Past

Accountants

Shrine

Didn't You Learn That First Lesson In Kindergarten?

They Grew (A Poem From The Imaginarium)

Cuba Libre

Dragons

Max on the max

The Little Bird Said

The Factory of Resentments

When My Blues Are Gone

Expect Yourself

TONIGHT

I WILL RETURN

Silver-Tongued Devil

Within The Green Wind Becomes The Fall

Think On This--IF YOU WOULD

Open Lines

You Got Your Lilly Back

More Poetry >>

 
Features

  Sign Guestbook

Read Guestbook

 
   

Where The Weird Actually Tried To Turn Pro


*************

ever wake up
in a puddle of drool
your face
sticking to your pillow
back of your shirt
glued to the back of your neck

ever wonder where all that sweat
came from?

ever wrestle with a problem in your sleep
have the problem you take on
grow some muscled arms, long legs
one very large torso
then some sharp claws on its hands and feet

you become a Wrestler
center ring battling your Nemesis
you are not Magnifico,
but someone
wearing briefs and a tutu
doing your utmost to win
the title belt

why would anyone
need a belt
to wear a tutu with bikini breifs?

nothing makes sense
you'd rather be dancing in a ballroom
NOT prancing here
shucking and diving in a
roped-in ring

ding
the bell sounds
but you're not quite ready
for the seven foot hairy-backed monster
in the chartruese cape

its round three
or is it round three-hundred-thirty-three?

you've got on high heels with flesh-toned hose
a get-up, you'd never be caught dead in if you were awake
he's wearing coiled springs on his feet
and he's gonna be awful hard to take

you're protection is Casper mask
he's wearing hockey gear
he's gonna kick your ash
was that a trickle of sweat
or a trickle of fear?

the audience all has bad breath
they've been drinking cheap beer
they're throwing pennies instead of cash
its hazy but its all a little bit too clear
you are gonna loose
then they all are gonna laugh

its all too close for comfort
its really getting hot in here
the battle's has begun once more
when you hear the referee shout
YOU
Hey, Twinkle-Toes
limp on over here--
haven't you had enough?

then
you wake up in a puddle of drool
you think
that was rough
you think I ought to have had
a much better name
maybe then you could've
better defended yourself

when  you realize
hey, I didn't choose it
who's to blame
it the ones who named you
your doting parents
thanks

and, aren't
we through and done
with the stuff of childhood
yet?



LEGAL COPYRIGHT  FOR THIS SILLY WILL 6:24PM PST
SEPTEMBER 13 2019/ IS THIS FRIDAY THE 13TH???
AND ALSO FOR THIS POET MELISSA A. HOWELLS
AND ALSO FOR THIS LEGALLY COPYRIGHTED SITE TITLE
MELOO STRAIGHT FROM HER TILT-A-WORLD

WRITTEN DIRECTLY TO THE PAGE
BUT THIS WAS AN ACTUAL REAL DREAM

re-edited to correct errors and to make more sense
9-17-2019 8:14pm PST





Vote for this poem

Please Comment On This Poem

Comments

 Email Address

 

Vote for this poem