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A NOT-S0-SILLY ANTI-POETRY DITTY

In And In Between The Silence 6/21/2022

Not Alone In the Darkness (As I Once Thought I Was)

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)

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)

HERE WE SIT AT OUR TABLE 2/19/2022

To Be In The Way

For My Brother T. J. ( 7/15/2022)

That Once Respite Cave

Dr. Frankenstein's Surprise (Re-Galvanized)

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

Summer Storms / Electric Monsters

Your Candle Burning In the Wind

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

You Are Not What You Think 3/7/2022 11:56Pm PST

We'll Decide That For YOU

Fisherman's Woman's Lament

That Time Love Took Off Running On Its Achilles Heels....

VALENTINE--WITHOUT YOU 2/19/2022

His Bitter Chocolate Heart (refrigerator magnet poem)

THE HOOVER DAM/NEWLY RE-CONSTRUCTED 2/19/2022

I COULD BECOME SOME KIND OF LUCKY 2/19/2022

UN-THREAD THE NEEDLE (OF TIME)

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

THE GLASS BETWEEN MY SELVES

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A Girl  Always  Leaning Forward Looking for A Breeze


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steering with my small unsteady hands
I've turned the corners of my life
steering into the fall
often
stumbling
and skinning my heart

my heart
often exposed to the fall
and wide open

caught, too, in the dampness
like the well-read used book
left spine up on a dewy
out all night Spring morning

my pages bent backwards
knowing that the spine
(where my heart lives...)
might bend too far
and my pages
might unravel and break apart

and when dancing
that same heart dared to wear
see-through dresses
hoping that my invisibility
might be seen

my waif-like tenderness
hidden somewhere beneath two
shelf-like breasts
my navy blue eyes and smile
and a ruffling skirt rising high over my knees
my pulse matching the pulse
of the music

it was
it is
a freedom to live in my own
made-up places
for I belong to me

looking backwards
I'd like to snare an older piece of myself
with my butterfly net
being careful not to snap my wings

I'm not yet an old-woman
with broken legs
but a girl always leaning forward
looking for a breeze

LEGAL COPYRIGHT FRO THIS POEM/JANUARY 22, 2022 8:08 AM PACIFIC STANDARD TIME
TIME AND DATE STAMPED/ AND ALSO FOR THIS WRITER/POET
MELISSA A. HOWELLS AND ALSO FOR THIS LEGALLY COPYRIGHTED AND
REGISTERED SITE TITLE    MELOO STRAIGHT FROM HER TILT-A-WORLD


NEARLY FULLY FORMED WHILST DOING THE FOREVER PILE OF LAUNDRY
YESTERDAY AND FOLDED, THE POEM NEW AND UNWRINKLED ONTO THE PAGE TODAY...1/22/2022





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