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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

Wild and Unraveling

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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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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