Best Midpoint Poems

A THRILL SEEKER (PART 1)

He is a sick man with no life that is running around in a world that cannot be lived.
All but not...

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Soon enough, 
In the makings of Lila,
And the growing happiness of the lamentable soul of Clementine,
I shall be utterly transformed once again

Imagine this!
Can I not...

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"Another Man’s Treasure"



Jetsam tumbles
broken doorbells
no one
answers
anymore

ironing boards 
pressing to imprint
something of significance
a life, your life
droll and predictable

it all sinks 
to the bottom 
of a bad...

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Recording one’s legacy is always an egotistically complex process,
One is not harassed by burdens or limitations, 
And yet fear of leaving especial implications out is...

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Just the awe of your charismatic sexual looks makes
the down part of me wanting to possess 
and build a park beneath your fleshy covering.
My Junior’s...

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The bike was loaded and packed
The duffle bag strapped to the rack
The air was crisp when we started out at dawn
In the early morning hours...

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To be honest, there is not a lot I remember being an angel, 
Though I can speak volumes about being a demon
The Devil does not...

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Having passed the midpoint, I came to a stall.
The known half’s behind me, the future ain’t clear,
all those years gone shifting, from gear to gear.
No...

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Down they swooped, so keen,
In perfect vee formation
Bronzes, browns, a green
Two blues and, showing elation, 
Lastly, at midpoint, the great golden Queen
Beloved of our tiny...

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1935 I was born alive
something happen to me I was revived
And with the good Lord on my side
I lived again I was lost but found...

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at the end of the right angle,
your brain function seems unattractively acute,
and the putridity and the pungency is quite obtuse
something happened between the early period...

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Her skin so soft with richness of love and affection so real,
The eyes of a debutante, which speaks volumes, I understand.
Legs so firm and powerful...

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All she wanted to do was to prove her point.
What goes up must come down –
She packed climbing gear and grabbed her ballpoint.
It was time...

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I Miss You...

Like high school tennis practice after classes
at the midpoint of May; so at the peak
of blurry vision owing foggy glasses
owing a humid leak...

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So, March will be here one short week from now,
   and I, for one, am counting the few days,
   for she...

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