melissaahowells

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When You Learn Who You Really Are And What Is...

Anti-Poem Number Three 8/2/2022 Or, A Poem Your Proper Mother Wouldn't Write

That Once Respite Cave

We Are The Generators

Summer Storms / Electric Monsters



Talk To Me In The Dark 7/8/2022

Always Deep Blue (written 7/3-7/6/2022)

His Bitter Chocolate Heart (refrigerator magnet poem)

ANOTHER REFRIGERATOR POEM 7/2/2022

In And In Between The Silence 6/21/2022

You Do As You Please 8/17/2005 found poem, readjusted 6/20/22

Each One Of Them Is Accounted For (And Matters)

The Fire Once Within Goes Cold From Lack

Like Books Full Of Stories Stacked Behind Her

Call It Grace (another Anti-poem)

Like A Small Street Dog Lured In By The Promise Of Meat

A NOT-S0-SILLY ANTI-POETRY DITTY

Lights Out

Saudade: the feeling of wanting to be near someone who is far and distant

That No One But I Will Know (anti-poetry)

To Be In The Way

For My Brother T. J. ( 7/15/2022)

Dr. Frankenstein's Surprise (Re-Galvanized)

When Mr. Bemish Lost His Last Good Pair of Glasses

A Stranger In a Strange And Angry Land.

Crimson Lake (From 2008, flashing forward to 2022/April 19)

Words Being Yours...Until The Grave 4/23/2022

My Grey Haired Love...La La Lullaby , La La Lullaby My Love

I LOVE YOU ALWAYS ANYWAY AND INSTEAD

Your Candle Burning In the Wind

Certainly No Bread 3/16/2022

On Sunny Days , As I Pose For The Skies 3/17/2022

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After Wide Sargasso Sea


And is it like me...
this dark inner paradise
and is it like me
these rising tides
and crashing waves
the seas-a-rolling
and is it like me
these inner darkening clouds
and is it like me
this tempest
this anvil-shaped heart
this inner insistence growing...

I have been
tossed high up into the mountains
hidden deep dark down in the gloom and the green
I am the moss and the moldering
I am the loss and the feigned innocence now
from a time when power was cruel
and decays with the graves and the dust
I am the ashes and the damp-blood clay
trampled beneath bared feet
I am the fading light of my failed reflection
Why am I Not
this money-tempted man's rued distraction?

high in the cardboard rooms
cloistered as a nun
the sun now lost to me
only the flames of the candles burn
the sun not even a memory to me

author/poet retains all legal copyright for this poem/work
5:33pm PST April 8 2020 time/date stamped
and also for this legally copyrighted site title
Meloo Straight From Her Tilt-a-World
by this poet/author Melissa A. Howells

I am for the Underdog, the Lost, the Unrequited and Forgotten.
Written after a third and thorough reading of Jean RHYS's  timeless
classic Wide Sargasso Sea...a reworking of Jane Eyre and the deemed less-
than-heroic of Heroines, Antoinette, AKA by her Mother's name Bertha.





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