meloostraightfromhertilt-a-world

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Home, Ghuey, Sweet Home

Uncovered

Burying the Dark

Great Big Waterproof World

After Wide Sargasso Sea



If Prejudice Were Dumb And Could Not Speak

All Beings Considered

Not For The Bloom of Tears Cultivated These Last 100 Years

A Little Bit of Harlem in Your Life

So Glad I Met You

Being Ourselves...

Knock, Then Come Through

In My Humble Opinion

I Turn Forward

Beyond Door Number Three

Little Man Orange--My Mister Peanut Butter Trout

Someone Send Out A Search Party

The Blue Buffalo

THE STITCH IN THE TELEPHONE WIRES

The Springtime Shadows Play Games Upon The Wall

The Differences

Wisdom of the Infinite

Not Someone's Grand Illusion

The Storm

Patch-Worked Trilogy

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

Prairie Town Progress

Great Spirit

Elise, Elise

The Make-Up of Molecules

Make (of) Me A Snow Angel

Threading Myself Through The River Called Night

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Uncovered


what is in a name
may not often be in the face

I didn't choose mine
it was given to me
would I claim it as my own
how could they have known
who I was
the day I was born

truth be told
they barely knew themselves
nor the experiment called parenthood

does the soul choose
does it have prescience
could it really know
who its been paired up with
and would they be good caretakers or
is it the toss of coin
how the guff opens up
and drops a soul
into this void called earth
and how this soul must grasp it
with all its might
because grasping means life

is it familiarity or familial
how I do have the eyes of my Dad
or how I'm like my Mother
always sad
I see things others don't
and might choose not to

and what makes me want to do
what I ought not do
and defy every attempt to control
I must have dropped from the darkest hole
from the sky
my soul maybe wanted to fly alone
for awhile
and not get attached
so I could be better prepared
before I came hatched into
this unkind world
who didn't choose to know me

I was old before the years caught up
I was old and never tied the knot of
childhood
I was the parent not the child
my parents didn't get the directions
nor possess the leanings nor have
the attention span that makes
a little one grow up and not be wild
at odds with the world
let me tell you the one little pearl
or two that must be passed unto
the soul of a little child

never improve them
nor ask them to fall into line
with your own false image
of who you want them to be

always reassure them when they're hurt
telling them
it will be alright again--
and how the worst gets over
and at the end of darkness
is a prescient morning dawn

teach them they have within them
all the ingredients to be
and to carry on

show them how
a soul's life can be serene
and that life doesn't have to be mean

and all WHO they need
they will find within themselves
and that
with time,
all can and will be revealed
healed and persevere
as it is uncovered
(within yourself, my child, within yourself, little soul.)




random thoughts organized directly to the page
LEGAL COPYRIGHT FOR THIS POEM 10:53pm SEPT 1 2020
TIME AND DATE STAMPED AND ALSO FOR THIS WRITER
MELISSA A. HOWELLS AND ALSO FOR THIS LEGALLY COPYRIGHTED AND REGISTERED
SITE TITLE: MELOO STRAIGHT FROM HER TILT-A-WORLD











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