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In The Sanctuary Of My Head

The Broken-Winged Birds and People (re-edited 4/5/2323 3:03PM PST) (re-edited 11:14am PST 2/23/2023)

The Hell Of Winter (re-edited 4:27pm PST 3/9/2023)

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

THE HEART IS AN ORGAN ON FIRE



When Mr. Bemish Lost His Last Good Pair of Glasses

Kathy Brown Kathy Brown

Something Not Quite Right About Here (Vortex) re-edited 1/26/2023

THE COOL TILES BENEATH MY FEET REMIND ME

The Way Of The Crow

DO YOU TURN THE LIGHTS SO YOU CAN SLEEP?

The Springtime Shadows Play Games Upon The Wall

CHRONICLER OF DREAMS

YET ANOTHER ANTI-POETRY POEM ( re-edited 11/2/2022)

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

HERE WE SIT AT OUR TABLE 2/19/2022

Much Better Than This ( A Conversation With The Universe)

The Straight Story (What Happens When The Writer Inserts You Into Her Story)

THE TIDE CALLED LONELINESS

A Girl Always Leaning Forward Looking for A Breeze

Entanglements

Have You Ever... (DECEMBER 4/2021)

Appetites

How I Still Love You

The Smile Which Eludes @

He Says To Me, I Think Too Much (and hence dream too much as well)

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

Breathing On My Own

A Girl Is More Than a Beautiful Box re-edited 10:15pm PST 1/31/22

I LOVE YOU ALWAYS ANYWAY AND INSTEAD

Talk To Me In The Dark 7/8/2022

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And Then It Wasn't Hard To Be Eight Years Old


what I had was not much
a bike that clanked when I rode

but it had a blue straw basket
for traveling

my mother, my father, my brothers
noticed me only when there was a problem
I was a problem
my feelings were

so when I would disappear
temporarily
it didn't matter much

the bags I packed were essential
only to me
flashlight, TP, pbj sandwich, thermos of milky coffee
sleeping bag, OFF, latest book, drawing pad,
pens, lined paper,
a knife, a tomato to slice, a pre-buttered muffin

they all fit in my pack
and tied to the basket

made up a story
I got good at that
'going to a friends'
then took off pedaling
to the south side of town

camped by the Red River
scared like the Dickens
fell asleep exhausted
and slept almost til noon

no watch to tell the time
but the sun was high
and then I'd rise
and stretch
feeling the damp ease from my body

often I'd yell my Tarzan scream
no one but the birds to hear me
this is the part that cheered me
and then it wasn't so hard
to be eight years old


Yes, this is a true story..mine
from younger days long ago...one that I will always remember..
I was good at temporarily running away...and no one ever cared or knew.


LEGAL COPYRIGHT FOR THIS POEM 12;40 PM PST TIME/DATE STAMPED
AND ALSO FOR THIS WRITER/POET MELISSA A. HOWELLS AND ALSO FOR
THIS LEGALLY COPYRIGHTED AND REGISTERED SITE TITLE
MELOO STRAIGHT FROM HER TILT-A-WORLD





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