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Forgive Me (GHUEY-BOY)

The Loving Art

OUTER SHELL

The Stars Go Out

Soothe (re-edited 1:40Pm 8/17/21 for clarity for me as a five year old)



No One--I Know Who I Am

At My Gnarled Feet 7/27/2021

Here, After?

Burning The Trees Into Ghosts

Only The Lonely.... (its not about what you may think...)

And The Next, And The Next..... (written directly to page, will return later for edits)

My Truth Is Out There (re-edited for clarity of thought and image later)

All My Friends Are Dead, It Seems....

The Better Poem

Crimson Crush (Re-edited and Mispellings Corrected 6/11/2021)

For Boiled Eggs and Mountains

The Last Shall be Trace-less 5/25/2021

Beware When The White Night Calls // re-edited 5/25/2020

The Thing You Move Out Of Your Way (writing exercise) 5/22/2021

BUYING LIES 5/22/2021

IN THE WILDERNESS CALLED YOU

TIME IS OF THE NONSENSICAL

The Future I'm Caught Up In...RE-EDITED 5/22/2021

Broken Things Are Beautiful

Cool Pea-Green New Leaves....(Imaginarium)

Sharp Sticks For The Cinderella's

A Long Long Time Ago

OFTEN I'VE WONDERED AS I LISTENED TO TRAINS

My Heart Knows.....(TO THOSE WHOSE HEARTS LIVE IN SPRING)

I REMEMBER THIS DAY AS IF IT HAD BEEN RECORDED IN A BOOK

Odd Things, Odd Thing.....

The Magical Closet( re-edited for clarity of metaphor)

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


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feathered sentries
in parking lots
pretended looters
fighting with others
who are not their brothers
over what?

could it be over
what they ain't got...
tiny discarded crumbs
the meagerest ones
too small
to be over-looked
by anyone
except for birds...

they try to choke down
discarded dried up gum
unheathily scattered amongst
the litter
I've even seen them eat
ineatible wrappers
and peck heartily at
holiday glitter

it has been written
it has been read
words of wisdom
that God has said
He that looks out for hungry birds
intrepid little friendless fellow
each and every one

then why so desperate
dashing-diving amid the trash
feathered ones are low on cash

who then has been forgotten
when so many birds
are becoming part of the past
their seasons are nearly done

little birds woebegone
forgotten
among the hulking industry
of man
and robots so fun


when the birds started disappearing
I thought
soon enough with modernity
man/woman wil be done.

the birds are such
un-numbering creatures
unravelings
of distant nightmares
of Hitchcockian past

when you don't treasure
that which is God's
and call it mans'
it will never last

good-bye birds
I am sad
I am nostalgically desperate
see how the feathers fall...

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WHO HAS CREATED THIS DYSTOPIA?
ASK THE CORPORATIONS
ASK THE CHEMICAL COMPANIES
DO YOU WANT A SILENT SPRING?
LEGAL COPYRIGHT FOR THIS POEM
12:47am PST NOVEMBER 25 2019
AND ALSO FOR THIS WRITER/POET
MELISSA A HOWELLS AND ALSO FOR THIS
LEGALLY COPYRIGHTED SITE TITLE
MELOO STRAIGHT FROM HER TILT-A-WORLD






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