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When You Learn Who You Really Are And What Is...

Anti-Poem Number Three 8/2/2022 Or, A Poem Your Proper Mother Wouldn't Write

That Once Respite Cave

We Are The Generators

Summer Storms / Electric Monsters

Talk To Me In The Dark 7/8/2022

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

His Bitter Chocolate Heart (refrigerator magnet poem)


In And In Between The Silence 6/21/2022

You Do As You Please 8/17/2005 found poem, readjusted 6/20/22

Each One Of Them Is Accounted For (And Matters)

The Fire Once Within Goes Cold From Lack

Like Books Full Of Stories Stacked Behind Her

Call It Grace (another Anti-poem)

Like A Small Street Dog Lured In By The Promise Of Meat


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)

Dr. Frankenstein's Surprise (Re-Galvanized)

When Mr. Bemish Lost His Last Good Pair of Glasses

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

My Grey Haired Love...La La Lullaby , La La Lullaby My Love


Your Candle Burning In the Wind

Certainly No Bread 3/16/2022

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

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the wonder that always shall be...

december is colder
for those who are alone
its darker
and the light wanes
nose pressed to the pane
don't you wonder
who those strangers are
seated around the table
firefly lights altering their faces
the flushing rosy -cheeked grin
of mutual admiration
all around
best all american family
making luxury of what they've got
which is each other

is there a memory
locked in my vault
a snapshot recalled
a silliness and sharing
somewhere to be internally reviewed
I could make do with those pictures

where do and did they go
forts in the snow
the singing zing of pucks on a board
a small Eskimos reward
the wild ride screaming ride down the hill
and the belief in temporary flight
and what might come tonight
under the tree
while the pinging of angels on bells
lilts and hangs in the air
child's eyes a opioid over-glazed stare
to think that a fat man eats the cookies
and delivers something for nothing
just because you are you

would a surprise polaroid do
the vision indellible
of the real jolly fat fellow
and the pawing of hooves
on the rooftop too

it must be diamonds or stars
glazing over the windows and ice
it must be the smells baking in the oven
the smell of fresh pine
that stolen piece of magic
the divinity will do

where do those christmases
go in their bright paper and bows
and the singing of carols
where your mother adores and cajoles
you to sing along with her too

what is this curiousity
this implausible long-lost city
gone from me
and remove

do I want to come back to you
revisit you
the ghost that is christmases past
come back to roost and subdue
the child that I was
the child that still is
the wonder that alwasy shall be.

and the words of my Grandfather
who is gonna love you like I do?

legal copyright for this poem 12/12/2021 5:19pm
and also for this writer  melissa a. howells and also for this
legally copyrighted and registered site title.
thank you for reading on my momentary lapse to the past.

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