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After Wide Sargasso Sea

Unseen, The Lilacs And The Daffodils

If This Is Any Art For Which You Care

Home, Ghuey, Sweet Home

Liminality



My Heart Knows Him Still ( For TLP)

On the Wings Of A Bird

Shedding Your Skin

Great Spirit

Encounter Before Dawn

The Cruel In The World (Blue Bag Metaphor)

Somtimes in Surrender

Not My Season

WHAT WILL YOU THINK GENTLE READER, AFTER YOU'VE FINISHED READING THIS?...We Are All Star Children

NEEDING /KNEADING MORE (sometimes)

The Hope Of All These Things Which Would Never Come In a Box

Belle Du Jovan

All Beings Considered

I Long For Stars

I Talk To A Machine In My Darkness

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

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

Max on the max

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

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WHAT WILL YOU THINK GENTLE READER, AFTER YOU'VE FINISHED READING THIS?...We Are All Star Children


sometimes I wonder about
my significance and insignificance
the largeness of the universe
and if
I am a universe of one

this mostly happens
when I'm amplified by pain

the pain blots all
other realties out
and asserts itself
as the ruling factor
leaving me to face it
on my own

no one else can be inside my body
wrestling with it
whether it be physical
or mental
the grip of it now
can be unrelenting

which brings me back to
the beginning
and my beginnings

then how is it
that I am significant
and insignificant
in a universe
of unfathomable size
when the pain I experience
itself
is unfathomable
and only the understanding of it
happens when I succumb to it
or surrender
after much bargaining
and soothing
and mindfulness
and attempts at acceptance

growing old
means losing things
parts of myself
I no longer have
its a kind of grieving
that is a universe unto itself
and it is this universe
which looms so large
because of its literal power
to alter and carve away

yet I am stubborn
and resigned to stay
til the end
I do not care for bitterness
and its taste which is unkind

perhaps in the expression of who I am
and how I feel
I might draw other universes closer to me
so that they might see a part of themselves
and see how really
we are so much alike

what will you think,
then,
gentle reader
after you have finished
reading this

will you judge me
will you judge yourself
or will you begin to understand
what makes a universe
and the great distances in between

or will you slowly realize...
with your own sunrise,
how
we are all
star children?


LEGAL COPYRIGHT FOR THIS POEM 4:50PM 12/23/2019 TIME DATE STAMPED
AND ALSO FOR THIS WRITER MELISSA A. HOWELLS
AND ALSO FOR THIS LEGALLY COPYRIGHTED SITE TITLE
MELOO STRAIGHT FROM HER TILT-A-WORLD





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