melissaahowells

      Poet's Home             All Poetry       Sign Up!  Login
© 2000-2022 Individual Authors of the Poetry. All rights reserved by authors.   519803 Poems Read.

Search for Poetry

   


Read Poetry
The Petty Player Who Rarely Sleeps

I'd Like A Taste (The Wolf Said)

The Crow Is A Black Bird

When I Start to Bloom

I'd Like To Be Your Shirt (when you wake up in the morning)



All Beings Considered

Words Between Edward And Jane

Nothing's Sadder Than A Rose

The Great Tsunami Of Our Growing Grief written 3/2.2021--retitled 3/14/2021

After Wide Sargasso Sea ( For Those of You Readers Who Have Empathy For the First Mrs. Rochester.)

WAITING ON THE WORLD (March/February 2021 poetry)

Wild and Unraveling

What Must Be

These Hands Exist July 4 2023 rei-edited 7/12/2023

I Am The Color Of Black

The Tide of Your Lies (2019-2023)

How I Wanted Your Pearls 6/24/2023 WRITTEN DIRECTLY TO THE PAGE

Love Wants What Love Wants re-edited 5/31/023

Winter's Been Too Long.... 4/18/2023 (LONGING)

The Dreaming Life ( A Series Of Dream Vignettes)

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

This Is What Mermaids Dream Of

At Night, As I Dream of Vampires Who Have No Bad Intentions

And You Will Be Called Ashes As You Leave ( from a dream)

Certainly No Bread 3/16/2022

Someone Send Out A Search Party

THE FAN , AT NIGHT, GIVES GOOD ADVICE completely re-edited, an entirely different poem

What Is The Price For Your Touch? re-editied 5/31/2023

Where Is My Bed With The Pleasing Tree -Lined View(NOW REEDITED)

Oh What Fine Physics (Before Me ,Lies) re-edtited @4/17/2023

If Prejudice Were Dumb And Could Not Speak

THE COMPANY THAT WE KEEP WITH THE ONE WITHIN

More Poetry >>

 
Features

  Sign Guestbook

Read Guestbook

 
   

These Hands Exist July 4 2023 rei-edited 7/12/2023


there are more worlds than
I can hold within my hands
or within yours

why is it that then  
my hands my fingers
can be as sieves
and when I try to hold onto
all I would Love
it all slips
through

my hands are old
they hurt and ache
some days I cannot grab nor grip
onto anything
and it seems
onto anyone

how has this happened
my hands cannot listen
to the thoughts I'm sending them
please please I plead
don't let go
hold on

but now my hands shake
and quiver
when they might grasp
little gnarled joints
small worlds they once held and clung to
wmall hopeful dreams they reached for
small but real and oh so close to my heart

once
I told myself over and over
my wishing incantations
my brave encircling mantras
fingers please be tenacious
please help me grip, cling
and hold onto  anything, everyone
I have I had
for there was a time once
when I had and was nothing

so many worlds
within these whorls
and words I speak
the people
the memories I chose from
and embrace and seek

somewhere in my mind
my old hands
exist
and I call to them
come back and bring me back
to my old self.


^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^


I write this as I see little dreams
crumbling. There they go off on little paws.
Like lost pets and friends and loves

its a dealing with grief. that's why I write here
its hard when it feels as if its all evaporating

LEGAL COPYRIGHT FOR THIS POEM 10:53 PM PACIFIC STANDARD TIME
ON JULY 4 2023, INDEPENDENCE DAY
AND ALSO FOR THIS WRITER/AUTHOR/POET
MELISSA A. HOWELLS AND ALSO FOR THIS LEGALLY COPYRIGHTED AND
REGISTERED SITE TITLE MELOO STRAIGHT FROM HER TILT-A-WORLD.

re-edited for clarity and more precise emotional impact
7/12/2023 10:59PM PST time and date stamped/ all legal copyright@ retained
by MELISSA A. HOWELLS POET/AUTHOR WRITER.


                                  





Vote for this poem