LPiA-23 Nov. 15
#1
Let's Pretend it's April - Nov. 15

Rules: Write a poem for LPiA on the topic or form described. Each poem should appear as a New Reply to this thread. The goal is to, at the end of the month, have written 30 poems for the month of November. (or one, or six, or fifteen) Prompts may be revisited at any time. All members are welcome.

Topic : Write a poem inspired by a halfway point.
Form : Any
Line requirements: 8 or more

Feel free to reply with comments or kudos as you wish. 

Questions?
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#2
Before we get where we're going, we get half way first. 
Half way there we have another half to go.
We can't get where we're going
Until we get half way.
A spark 
A leap of faith
Connects the points
An infinite number of halves
One foot over another until we get there 
Wherever it is
Peanut butter honey banana sandwiches
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#3
Turnaround Point


It’s a commonplace:
when you reach your destination
on a round trip journey
you’re halfway home.

Perhaps that’s why at end of life
it’s said to all flash by again–
you’re halfway home but that return
goes really fast.
feedback award Non-practicing atheist
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#4
51%

Keep your glass 
at least half full;

dregs are depressing.

Top it up 
with a watery placebo 
if you must;

but top it up.

So long as matter 
holds the larger share,

there's no place
for empty philosophies.
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#5
Lot's Wife

She'd learned all there was to know of fault
inside of a moment, a grain of turning.
Of night she knew too much, of salt
unspooled, buried in the flesh.
With a backward glance her yearning,
her body, pillared into white.
Quiet as a half-rhyme's crash,
it felt like burning.

It felt like burning.
Quiet as a half-rhyme's crash
her body pillared. Into white,
with a backward glance, her yearning
unspooled. Buried in the flesh
of night, she knew too much of salt.
Inside of a moment, a grain of turning,
she'd learned all there was to know of fault.
Reply
#6
(11-16-2023, 08:54 AM)Fearful Symmetry Wrote:  Lot's Wife

She'd learned all there was to know of fault
inside of a moment, a grain of turning.
Of night she knew too much, of salt
unspooled, buried in the flesh.
With a backward glance her yearning,
her body, pillared into white.
Quiet as a half-rhyme's crash,
it felt like burning.

It felt like burning.
Quiet as a half-rhyme's crash
her body pillared. Into white,
with a backward glance, her yearning
unspooled. Buried in the flesh
of night, she knew too much of salt.
Inside of a moment, a grain of turning,
she'd learned all there was to know of fault.
Well done FS.  Thumbsup
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#7
Thanks  Smile
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#8
I peaked
47 years ago
and her name was Mary.
It was late spring 
my father had just died
and she took me
into a house full of strangers.
It all seemed so simple,
the claw footed tub 
where we showered 
the bed  where we made love.
A crystal hung above it,
and I woke at 3:33 a.m.
to see her sleeping.
At dawn I woke 
to see her sitting erect
I tried to speak
she shushed me
because she was meditating.
Little did I know 
I was half-way to where
I find myself again
reliving one night
and the clumsy climb down
it would take me
to reach it.
Reply
#9
Materials.

Long robust sheet of paper.
Fountain pen (black ink).
Basin (any kind).
Sticks and string.
The blood of a pig.

Method.

1. Write down the following:

Zeno's Peace Plan

We're halfway there.
We're halfway there.
We're halfway there.
We're halfway there.
We're halfway there.

We're halfway there.
We're halfway there.
We're halfway there.
We're halfway there.
We're halfway there.

We're halfway there.
We're halfway there.
We're halfway there.
We're halfway there.
We're halfway there.

We're halfway there.
We're halfway there.
We're halfway there.
We're halfway there.
We're halfway there.

We're halfway there.
We're halfway there.
We're halfway there.
We're halfway there.
We're halfway there.

We're halfway there.
We're halfway there.
We're halfway there.
We're halfway there.
We're halfway there.

We're halfway there.
We're halfway there.
We're halfway there.
We're halfway there.
We're halfway there.

2. Construct a frame.

3. Hang sheet from frame.

4. Fill basin with blood.

5. Dip bottom of sheet in blood.

And voila.
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