meloostraightfromhertilt-a-world

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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

Accountants

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I Will Return


********

where've I been?
--some place
not so new,
distant,
but endlessly old,
changing, yet changeless...

that's where I've been
I long to return there...
as those ancient amphibians did
long ago
those eventually evolved into
what I am today--
an animal who thinks

or,
perhaps,
I might be a starfish
gazing up into my brilliant night sky
wondering when I would belong there
or
I might be one of the white grains
of softened sand
trampled along the shore
or
I might be a shell
no longer occupied
noticing how I've been emptied
or
I might be the ocean swells
claiming all that crosses my path
greedily
and finding myself wantinng of more
and more

I would live here
in my heart
I would divine what is in my soul
to return again and often
and even do so as I sleep in my dreams
my will so strong it would
grant all my wishes for this
permanently opened door.
 
****************************************

I have been to the ocean and have found it difficult
to return to the life of land-lovers
--the city is a place to get by in
not a place in which to thrive.
The ocean is a living place. A breathing space.
Fresh and ever-changing and alive. I will make it
my mission to return as often as I/we are able.


LEGAL COPYRIGHT FOR THIS POEM/REMINISCENCE
3:59/10/21/2019 TIME/DATE STAMPED
AND ALSO FOR THIS POET MELISSA A HOWELLS
AND ALSO FOR THIS LEGALLY COPYRIGHTED SITE TITLE
MELOO STRAIGHT FROM HER TILT-A-WORLD





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