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

THE GLASS BETWEEN MY SELVES

A Poem From The Dark

AND THE NIGHT SKY WOULD BECOME BLUE AGAIN

I Woke Up /// re-edited 2/2/2022 12:31PM



Granddad John James re-edited 10:05Pm 1/31/22

The Grapes (Lucious Grape/ August 31, 2005

TAKE YOUR PEN NOW AND SEE WHAT YOU WILL WRITE

You Taught Me...

Thank You For Being Your Own Treasure

How Hounds-tooth Became Her Friend

A Language You Can't Ignore.... re-edited 1/12/2022

They Say The Preying Mantis Is No Lady

You Can Oh Yes You Can (RE-EDITED 1/9/2021 12:07AM PST time and date stamped.)

HERSTORY...NOT A POEM BUT EXPERIENCE #ONE

I Saw A Star And Dared to Reach For It

The Invitation..( the message of .come as you are>>)

The Nature Of Water

THIS IS MY CORNER OF THE UNIVERSE, ENTER WITHIN

the wonder that always shall be...

Do You Gather Up Your Days The Way Others Collect Wild Butterflies?

The Man On The Red Bicycle (an ode) RE-EDITED 12/4/2021

Stray Cats and I have an understanding... 11/23/2021 copyright

If It Does Them Any Good At All 11/16/2021 date/time stamped

OUTSIDE-THE CROWS 11/14/2021

Still, More Time NOV 6 2021

The Wonder Cat

Little Bundle I Call Joy

AUGUST 1977 (IN THE REMEMBERING)

Wishing Them Onto Better Days

Seize This Day, The One You're With

Only Grief....

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Broken Things Are Beautiful


********************

broken things are beautiful
and between the cracks
we're all often too inscrutable
I've seen the beauty of being
a-being-broken
and in the lack of what shouldn't be
so-in-between

a bird I found
alone and frightened
feathers flopping
eyes are whitening
I reached for her and
knew she was gone

four kittens in an abandoned house
their Mother lifeless
lying on a tattered couch
I fed them with a dropper
and named them so that they might live

my brother with his wounded pride
his possessions in one truck
piled to the roof inside
the smell of fear and loss

a man lying with his face on the ground
asking for his Mother and for mercy
all around the crowd's screaming
he's in trouble
he can't breathe

am I a watcher
am I a hanger-on
do I suffer as I look on
does the world suffer or does it
turn away

broken things are beautiful
when we fall between the cracks
and life's meaning seems inscrutable
we've been the broken beauty of our being
known what's right and what's never should be
in between...

there is a chance
we all might be
irrevocably lost

there's a cost
to being broken and beautiful
being beautiful shouldn't have to hurt
pulling wings off a butterfly
and knowing what it takes to make a man cry
and to close your heart
and watch him die

that's a broken-ness
that cannot be fixed
a soul needs to be released from its cage
a people from their fears and their rage

until there's mending
there'll be no relief
resetting the scales while
also admitting this is all of ours to grieve

I don't want to sweep anymore
butterfly wings from the street
and fill up God's heavens with sad angels.


legal copyright for this poem 5:45pm PST April 16th 2021
time and date stamped and also for this poet/writer
MELISSA A. HOWELLS AND ALSO FOR THIS LEGALLY COPYRIGHTED AND REGISTERED
SITE TITLE: MELOO STRAIGHT FROM HER TILT-A-WORLD

STILL, LORD WE ARE IN TIMES NEW ROMAN AND THE MENU IS BLUE...BLUE...BLUE...












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