melissaahowells

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Only Grief....

Forgive Me (GHUEY-BOY)

The Loving Art

OUTER SHELL

The Stars Go Out



Soothe (re-edited 1:40Pm 8/17/21 for clarity for me as a five year old)

No One--I Know Who I Am

At My Gnarled Feet 7/27/2021

Here, After?

Burning The Trees Into Ghosts

Only The Lonely.... (its not about what you may think...)

And The Next, And The Next..... (written directly to page, will return later for edits)

My Truth Is Out There (re-edited for clarity of thought and image later)

All My Friends Are Dead, It Seems....

The Better Poem

Crimson Crush (Re-edited and Mispellings Corrected 6/11/2021)

For Boiled Eggs and Mountains

The Last Shall be Trace-less 5/25/2021

Beware When The White Night Calls // re-edited 5/25/2020

The Thing You Move Out Of Your Way (writing exercise) 5/22/2021

BUYING LIES 5/22/2021

IN THE WILDERNESS CALLED YOU

TIME IS OF THE NONSENSICAL

The Future I'm Caught Up In...RE-EDITED 5/22/2021

Broken Things Are Beautiful

Cool Pea-Green New Leaves....(Imaginarium)

Sharp Sticks For The Cinderella's

A Long Long Time Ago

OFTEN I'VE WONDERED AS I LISTENED TO TRAINS

My Heart Knows.....(TO THOSE WHOSE HEARTS LIVE IN SPRING)

I REMEMBER THIS DAY AS IF IT HAD BEEN RECORDED IN A BOOK

Odd Things, Odd Thing.....

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Wild and Unraveling


I prefer the night
the smooth skin of it
the deceptiveness,
the savory peace that comes with
restlessness

there's not a flowering field
nor an ascending plateau
nor roiling ocean of stars
I've not plied
with my mind

I paint them all differently
the moon is sliver of austere green
the sky, navy-blue and shimmering
with iridescent light
strings of pearls
the outlines of ancient tales
of long dead Goddesses and Gods

I'd never be pale nor waning
but round and flush-pleasing
a transfiguration of altering
re-framed within the limitless
heart and mind of a hopeful child

its best to be untamed
and to let my hair winnow in the air
and unravel the pleasure that comes
with knowing I am always  wild

I know of nothing
like the boxing of the ears
and the means of holding back
with leashes, bridles, bits and jeers

I've developed a singular language
of my own
I've built my nest
I borrowed nothing
it could be a lair within the ground
an aerie in the clouds
wherever I am
will be home.



LEGAL copyright for this poem 8:53PM PST May 4, 2021/TIME 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

NOT QUITE SATISFIED WITH TITLE. THIS IS A POEM WRITTEN DIRECTLY TO THE PAGE.
MAY RETHINK SOME OF IT LATER...IS A SORTA/KINDA MANIFESTO









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