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ANOTHER REFRIGERATOR POEM 7/2/2022

A NOT-S0-SILLY ANTI-POETRY DITTY

In And In Between The Silence 6/21/2022

Not Alone In the Darkness (As I Once Thought I Was)

Miss Tilt-a-World@



Each One Of Them Is Accounted For (And Matters)

Like Books Full Of Stories Stacked Behind Her

Call It Grace (another Anti-poem)

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)

That Once Respite Cave

Dr. Frankenstein's Surprise (Re-Galvanized)

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

The Fire Once Within Goes Cold From Lack

Summer Storms / Electric Monsters

Your Candle Burning In the Wind

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

You Are Not What You Think 3/7/2022 11:56Pm PST

We'll Decide That For YOU

Fisherman's Woman's Lament

That Time Love Took Off Running On Its Achilles Heels....

VALENTINE--WITHOUT YOU 2/19/2022

His Bitter Chocolate Heart (refrigerator magnet poem)

THE HOOVER DAM/NEWLY RE-CONSTRUCTED 2/19/2022

Tender Love New And Quick...

I COULD BECOME SOME KIND OF LUCKY 2/19/2022

UN-THREAD THE NEEDLE (OF TIME)

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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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