melissaahowells

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No One--I Know Who I Am

At My Gnarled Feet 7/27/2021

Burning The Trees Into Ghosts

Here, After?

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)

The Better Poem

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

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

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

BUYING LIES 5/22/2021

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

IN THE WILDERNESS CALLED YOU

Broken Things Are Beautiful

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

Sharp Sticks For The Cinderella's

If Prejudice Were Dumb And Could Not Speak

It No Longer Surprises Me...

THE HEART IS AN ORGAN ON FIRE

Odd Things, Odd Thing.....

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

The Great Tsunami Of Our Growing Grief written 3/2.2021--retitled 3/14/2021

WAITING ON THE WORLD (March/February 2021 poetry)

The Legacy List

WE SHARE... march 2021 poetry

This Firestorm Of Dying Lights..

The Threshold To The Other World...(March 2021/Feb 2021)

(MELISSA'S) ALL---TRUE---ISMS....3/3/2021 4:51 pm PACIFIC STANDARD TIME

I Long For Stars

February 11, 2012 / Today The Storm...

MOLECULES

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Burning The Trees Into Ghosts


the night sounds are changed

no echoing trains

no stretched traffic sounds

we are all within

the boundaries

of un-civilization

and packed in tight

smoldering

and choked in proximity

I wonder if the crickets

have all moved to the country

or a distant star

this world is not the one

I remember and grew up in

and it was noisy back then

and all I longed for was silence

and the absence of shouts

and voices in conflict and disregard

its so much harder now to listen

that I block my ears to nod out

and put on waves

or thunderstorms

that are electronic

I think its become

almost demonic

how we can not count

on rain

nor an apology

or the coolness of a breeze

that does not spread fires

and burn the trees into ghosts

rooted to the ground

we're on

shaking un-common ground

I long for the past

and the peace I thought I didn't have

to live in.





LEGAL COPYRIGHT FOR THIS POEM 3:32PM 7/21/2021 TIME AND DATE STAMPED
AND ALSO FOR THIS WRITER/POET MELISSA A. HOWELLS
AND ALSO FOR THIS LEGALLY COPYRIGHT FOR THIS REGISTERED SITE TITLE
MELOO STRAIGHT FROM HER TILT-A-WORLD








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