Category Archives: Poetry


They say big cities are melting pots

And it is true

But some cities are better chefs

And Chicago

has been simmering a long time

creating a depth of flavor

all it’s own



~Melanie Thomason

Just reflecting back on my lovely trip to Chicago a little over a year ago.ย  ๐Ÿ™‚



Filed under Poetry

warden -micropoetry

The prison door is wide open

your fear is the only warden

~Melanie Thomason


Filed under micropoetry, Poetry

Undoing (with audio)


on grey

on twilight,

the purple dusk

and bruised toenail

sliver of moon.

The trees

are dark beasts

on the horizon

and I rode- I strode,

on my own two-feet

to the gallows,

the sad-sweet moment

of my undoing

its not magic

but something else


Like a first smile,

like a newly found element.

Something else,

yes, something else entirely.

There is a face in the moon,

a skull,

a dry, dead grinning thing

and it is this,

it is always this

I return to.

~Melanie Thomason



This poem is from my first book,ย Spectrum: Watercolored Words

get it here!


Filed under audio, Books, Poetry, reblog, Spectrum Watercolored Words

the now

We are not time travelers

I’m still waiting on Hawk to build that time machine

though he seems to have flown away from the blogosphere

so for now, we are confined to living in the now

changing the past is impossible

so can we try to start fresh moving forward?

can we leave past relationships behind us?

~Melanie Thomason



Filed under Poetry

prove it

in 1985

in Jackson, Mississippi

in a shit brown ’69 Buick

in the driveway of my grandparent’s home

we sat silently

each for our own reasons


my mom sat in the front passenger’s seat waiting

clinging to the bouquet of flowers that somehow made it all ok

baby sister sat in the back seat beside me

quiet for once but only cause she didn’t know what was going on

dad sat seething in the driver’s seat

waiting for me to break the silence

to respond to their seemingly simple announcement and a question

They were getting back together

we were moving back home

and all he wanted to know was, “Isn’t that great, Melanie?”

They didn’t expect my shock, my hesitation

They didn’t know my horror or my ultimate resignation

that the brief respite had ended, as i should have know it would

when he repeated his question with that edge in his voice

I quickly mumbled “yeah”

but the damage had been done

“Don’t you love our daddy, girl?”

“Yes sir.”

“I don’t believe you, guess you’re gonna have to prove it.”

~Melanie Thomason



Filed under Poetry

Memories (50 word story)

After violently tearing page after page of happy faces frozen in time from the album she lit the glossy plastic covered things on fire and unceremoniously dropped them in the bin.

“Photographs of other people’s memories

remind me of a life stolen from me.”

she explained to her befuddled neighbor.


~Melanie Thomason



Filed under 50 word stories, Poetry, Stories


This poem and fabulous watercolor painting by Georgiann Carlson

is from my book

Moonpies and Naugahyde

A Childhood Survived

Get it here!


Filed under Books, Moonpies & Naugahyde, Poetry

consider the muse

They say it’s a fine line between genius and madness

and I agree, a fine line indeed

because I can see the poetry in insanity

and the insanity in poetry

or maybe poetry is a way to release some instability

while still being considered sane

consider the muse

we wait impatiently to hear her voice whispering in our ear

to be graced with her presence, to feel her near

but we are Poets, Artists, Writers………not mentally ill!

it’s not as if we “hear voices” and are “compelled to do as they say”

In poetry we can explore death and dying, even murder and suicide

without fear of being locked away and medicated

with words I’ve killed myself a thousand times

on paper, I have a standing date with death

with sharpened pen I’ve tortured and murdered my abusers too

the acts carried out in poetry

have helped me survive in reality.

~Melanie Thomason



Filed under Poetry