Best Short Term Poems

How do I tell you that you’re beautiful?

How can I be different?

How can I express my attraction?

When columns upon
Columns
Of testosterone filled wolves
Dressed in rented Italian...

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How do I begin to describe you
Such an incredible person 
Yet even now you doubt your abilities
You lost your own mum when you were eight...

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Oklahoma cowboy, tough coal miner’s son
Born in Henryetta, south of Tulsa some
Raised by daddy’s momma, taught him wrong from right
Daddy taught him ropin’, taught him...

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Last evening I noticed another disconcerting Trump headline.
This felt and smelled more like a deadline
for disintegration
than a lifeline,
a bootstrap, if you will,
toward integrity of health...

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She’s dead they said!
She I thought. Who is she?
I stared straight down at a frumpy old thing.
On the bed, a lump, so dead.

Was that me?...

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2017 a New Memorial Day

My dear country is in disarray,

But its protectors protect it anyway,

Memorial Day finds them far afield,

Unable to laugh, unable to yield.

Lonely,...

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I don't want you to be some short term sex thing
I don't even want you to be my best fling
I want something real and you...

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My name is Willie.
Isn't that silly?
People think I'm, a worm.
The truth is, really,
When it's no longer chilly,
I am a worm...short term.

I have a mystique,
A secret...

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We had no hand in this rape of nature
Yet we will bear its full weight and measure
Can climate be sentenced to certain doom
Is there time...

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Huxley was in his nineteenth year,
a freshman at a fancy school,
the kind with excesses of ivy,
who claimed they accepted no fools.

The academics were no task,
he’d...

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A Palace of Aloneness.

This palace of aloneness is not my home. 
It's bricks know only the time of run-off bygones.
Transition past it's thousand entrances 
Impaired...

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The millwheel will not turn again till spring
for Winter’s icy cold grip holds it firm.
She squeezes it like Her private plaything,
though Her crushing power is...

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Pardon me Quaintly,
my DEAR FRIEND...
For how would you feel,
If I brought the End?

My eyes are empty,
and my soul is Black...
Nothings to living,
there's no coming Back...

Everyday,is...

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And her voice is the tingle of upbeat blues, 
the winsome rap amid my heavy footsteps, past 2 am...
She holds my hand as I’d never...

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On the way to the nursing home, we pass many beautiful sights. So many homes with pleasant yards, lawns, and flowers that delight. After so...

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