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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)

ANOTHER REFRIGERATOR POEM 7/2/2022

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

A NOT-S0-SILLY ANTI-POETRY DITTY

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

I LOVE YOU ALWAYS ANYWAY AND INSTEAD

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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Certainly No Bread  3/16/2022


now UN-SEE THIS:

ten people standing in line waiting for bread--
obliterated

this is not a poem
this is oblivion
a nightmare
Hieronymus Bosch

here one moment
and what?
gone the next
inconceivable?...
but YOU MUST conceive of it

marinate on THE BLOOD
until the reality seeps into your psyche
can you do it?

is there enough empathy left in your pinkie
in your pre-frontal cortex
in your reptilian brain
in your worst imagining
to wrap your NEEDFUL concentrated thought around IT?

I see
ten mushroom clouds EXPANDING
I see
spontaneous combustion AND TEN INDIVIDUAL POOFS
I see
ten memorials and malingering remembrances
AND AN ENDLESS CLOTHESLINE OF DAMP HAN-KERCHIEFS

I see Pale Grief in her flesh-tone gown
and Death with his scythe
cutting down the chafe and the wheat
no harvest for this year
not for ten
who were simply hungry....

and no bread
CERTAINLY no bread
for those who ONCE hailed from
the Bread Basket Of The World
and whose bodies hailed all over
the broken coffins of ground.

Are you quiet now?
Do you have any words or images left?

(whispering: Where and what is peace?)



LEGAL COPYRIGHT FOR THIS POEM WRITTEN DIRECTLY TO THE PAGE
AND ALSO FOR THIS WRITER/POET MELISSA A. HOWELLS
AND ALSO FOR THIS LEGALLY COPY-WRITTEN AND REGISTERED SITE TITLE:
MELOO STRAIGHT FROM HER TILT-A-WORLD





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