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In The Sanctuary Of My Head

The Broken-Winged Birds and People (re-edited 4/5/2323 3:03PM PST) (re-edited 11:14am PST 2/23/2023)

The Hell Of Winter (re-edited 4:27pm PST 3/9/2023)

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

THE HEART IS AN ORGAN ON FIRE



When Mr. Bemish Lost His Last Good Pair of Glasses

Kathy Brown Kathy Brown

Something Not Quite Right About Here (Vortex) re-edited 1/26/2023

THE COOL TILES BENEATH MY FEET REMIND ME

The Way Of The Crow

DO YOU TURN THE LIGHTS SO YOU CAN SLEEP?

The Springtime Shadows Play Games Upon The Wall

CHRONICLER OF DREAMS

YET ANOTHER ANTI-POETRY POEM ( re-edited 11/2/2022)

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

HERE WE SIT AT OUR TABLE 2/19/2022

Much Better Than This ( A Conversation With The Universe)

The Straight Story (What Happens When The Writer Inserts You Into Her Story)

THE TIDE CALLED LONELINESS

A Girl Always Leaning Forward Looking for A Breeze

Entanglements

Have You Ever... (DECEMBER 4/2021)

Appetites

How I Still Love You

The Smile Which Eludes @

He Says To Me, I Think Too Much (and hence dream too much as well)

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

Breathing On My Own

A Girl Is More Than a Beautiful Box re-edited 10:15pm PST 1/31/22

I LOVE YOU ALWAYS ANYWAY AND INSTEAD

Talk To Me In The Dark 7/8/2022

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Fisherman's Woman's Lament


the gunshot wound
that was your heart
in its poultice of
cayenne pepper

and that lolli-pop
of cherry fentanyl
couldn't make
your deepest wound
mend better

the waders to your
water-logged love
hang on the drooping clothesline

see how they
wind-walk
and skip away
dancing in the blowing wind
as it gathers his footsteps
fluttering away higher and higher

He was your fisherman
a fisher of hearts
with a hook to snag you
and give you the finest pleasures

he used no ordinary fly wheel
but the spinning kind
light-weight
an expert troller
in your wilder notions
the oceans and the rivers

oh the things you thought you did
the things we all do
so that we may breathe and love
and feel the love of others



my efforts
didn't make a creel
didn't make a net
didn't make a fishing lodge home
for my lover

love can be a bullet wound
love can be a far-off echo
love can be distant
as a man out on the river or the ocean

if love doesn't become a phantom
and abandon me
would I wear my widow's weeds
though we were never wed
and when he married himself
to Poseiden's Daughter

will he come back to me
dead in his knitted knotted gown
that telling Irish sweater

and not ever quite returned
will his ghost-lips
speak and sing to me
to simply haunt me?

Oh how the Salton Sea
is the whole wide world
the Temptress of all fishermen
yet
is the truest fisher of all
its wayward sons and daughters.

****************************************************
LEGAL COPYRIGHT FOR THIS POEM 2/21/2022 7:37 DIRECTLY TO THE PAGE
TIME AND DATE STAMPED AND ALSO FOR THIS POET MELISSA A. HOWELLS
AND ALSO FOR THIS LEGALLY COPYRIGHTED AND REGISTERED SITE TITLE:
MELOO STRAIGHT FROM HER TILT-A-WORLD (INDEED)





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