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


when I was eight
I had a magical closet
where I could live

there were books of poems
and drawing paper and pens
and at times a secret stash of
penny candy  like Red-Hots
and Bazooka Joe
and if I was lucky
M & M's

I'd bring a thermos
of coffee with cream
and my Father's camping flashlight
because it had a very high beam

I'd I read poetry
and Tales of Grimm
and I'd draw animals and people
and flowers and trees
in colors they
had never ever been

because---
everything looks different
in the dark

the closet books became hills
and mountains
the clothes above me
hanging clouds
and I knew there were trees
in the short distances
as I made whistling-wind noises
with my mouth

sometimes
I'd fall asleep
and it would be so quiet
a cocooning blanket of blissfulness
the night-world in the closet
a wonderful place of peace

little fairy people
would come to greet me
as they wove straw-flowers
into my hair
and a kind man who I thought
could've been Jesus
because he told me with his own eyes...
he cared

I called him the Seaweed Man--
his sallow face half-hidden
by long hanks of dark wavy hair
His gaze was soothing--
I felt it was in a rocking chair
and the waves of His smile
washed away all care

the colors of His eyes
varied from seaweed green to caramel brown
to azure blue

and I knew
I'd grow quieter...
no more wheezes, snores nor cries
I knew because
he said
it'd be alright

"Just be..."
He smiled...
"just be who you are...."
as His voice mixed with the waves
and my relief

and then came new belief
a lesson
my sacred task
later on, I had to learn this task-anew

the old lesson
was forgotten
until, last night
the Seaweed Man came back to ask me
"who are you?"

then I remembered the magical closet
and then I knew
then I knew...

"BLESSED ARE THE CLOSET CHILDREN."
for they shall inherit love.




Legal copyright for this poem 3.33PM PST///3/23/2021
TIME AND 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.
re-edited for clarity of metaphor 5>00pm PST 3/23/2021.
re-edited for tense, clarity and continuous metaphor 5:09am March 24th 2021






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