"midlife" poems
I am no longer waiting for a special occasion; I burn the best candles on ordinary days.
I am no longer waiting for the house to be clean; I fill it with people who understand that even dust is Sacred.
I am no longer waiting for everyone to understand me; It’s just not their task
I am no longer waiting for the perfect children; my children have their own names that burn as brightly as any star.
I am no longer waiting for the other shoe to drop; It already did, and I survived.
I am no longer waiting for the time to be right; the time is always now.
I am no longer waiting for the mate who will complete me; I am grateful to be so warmly, tenderly held.
I am no longer waiting for a quiet moment; my heart can be stilled whenever it is called.
I am no longer waiting for the world to be at peace; I unclench my grasp and breathe peace in and out.
I am no longer waiting to do something great; being awake to carry my grain of sand is enough.
I am no longer waiting to be recognized; I know that I dance in a holy circle.
I am no longer waiting for Forgiveness. I believe, I Believe.
-Mary Anne Perrone
Photo: Ingmari Lamy
Via Sacred Dreams
Dec 22, 2016
Dec 22, 2016 at 3:12 PM UTC
Hanging out new to the scene
So often wonder what that means
As I sit in front of the world's screen
Started in on ...Googling
I typed in a single word
Pressed enter for the Google search
Took me down the path absurd
Where all the lines were blurred
From there I ventured off the path
Wish I'd known there's no turning back
Marveled at the knowledge that I lack
Like how to whittle your own baseball bat
Just in case you're wondering
Midgets don't melt in the rain
Who doesn't think that that's insane
As I dive deeper into Googling
The art of bathing a Hindu rat
Skinning a two-headed Siamese cat
The taking of the perfect nap
Standing up while keeping your lap intact
How to delicately pierce a Rhino's ear
Dressing up then down a deer
50 different ways a man can cheer
While toasting his favorite Micro beer
Abstract art using cotton *****
How to paint between the lines on paisley walls
Teaching Yankees how the South says ya'll
Lost episodes of the show called Lost
Food served upon the world's menus
Even specialties from Timbuktu
Why the sea is green and the sky is blue
As my googling madness continues
More artwork this time with the jam of toes
How to pick your friends but never your friend's nose
Cleaning of the house without a stitch of clothes
The whole time being careful with the vacuum hose
80's Hairbands I used to like
That now know what bald feels like
Making a homemade Hindenburg kite
One that lands this time
How to handle midlife like a man
Taking a survey of what you could have been
Raising Spider Monkey's in the comfort of your den
As I keep on Googling
I now find myself Googling out in front
As I'm Googling from behind
Googling up as I'm Googling down
To the left and to the right
I've learned how to gargle Google
That's a well known Google fact
And if you don't believe me
You can even Google that
Nov 27, 2013
Nov 27, 2013 at 2:33 PM UTC
to more than I can be...
a sad isolated man,
throes of an agonizing,
stretched by her for painful
revengeful gain,
kissed with pointless avarice, divorce.
children deeming
him alienating, his faulty
insensitive sensitivities,
to easy blame
little do they know of the
piercing lowliness, the looniness of
nights he listened to sad-eyed singers,
and his late-of-mid of night scribbled scripts,
where he
off loaded the agonies of a midlife
disaster, not entirely of his-own
sown making,
but still his to bear and bare alone...
some accidents happens for unintentional,
unintended intentional new seasons appear,
stumbled, tumbled, fumbled his way onto
this H~oly P~lace, where someone might listen
to his explanations, expiations, excoriations
of his all too common tragedy, and said:
this broken human, he's got his reasons,
read his overly long treatises, his entreaties,
to those that prowl, rowing, in this corner
of the silence of the internet, where only the
trolls, the cold, the easier to-be-meaner oft thrive,
and found none of that, but an oasis of sheltering,
embracing comforting, those who actually admitted
his writings could be loved, and perhaps the writer
himself, was
deserving
of a second chance, a verbal embrace. a rereading forgiveness,
a pat
on his natback, a sympathetic sensory intaking,
and perhaps-this debt, eternal, that put the
for and the fore in a new baby born, named -
new forever
came into existence
the very same
e
that begins those conjoined words
***e~ternally grateful
"and now I sleep in peace when the day is done"
but the night time
is still the
write time
Sep 13, 2025
Sep 13, 2025 at 11:42 AM UTC
Her funky , modish, lingerie on a clothesline hung to dry,
doesn't bring to mind any wild imagery,
he just sees that: an undergarment
decency wouldn't permit to make an exhibit like this,
"My God!" he realizes with a shock"The midlife crisis has already started"
Oct 25, 2013
Oct 25, 2013 at 10:47 AM UTC
at middle age there comes a stage
a crossroads with red lights
confused with lifes directions
straight on, left, or right
it only took a second
to realise i love fun
so i turned my **** around
went back to twenty one
Mar 5, 2010
Mar 5, 2010 at 11:24 AM UTC
Not even kidding.
I have been in the throes
of a sort of mid-life crisis,
because I can't have
any more babies.
I ******* LOVE BABIES
My best friend is pregnant
right now. Soooo pregnant.
It's ******* adorable.
And I, I am unable to have
ANY MORE BABIES.
BUT I LOVE BABIES.
No **** you guys,
I really like to have babies.
I am *******
GOOD AT HAVING AWESOME BABIES.
My ****** was like
baby ******* paradise.
And I just had
a miniature midlife crisis
over the fact that
I had to use the word
"was" right there.
If I still had that ******
I would be forced
to use multiple layers
of protection
to ward off fertilization, and
MORE BABIES.
I LOVE BABIES.
I can gestate like a ************
Oh wait, maybe
more like a ****** mother,
YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN.
******* BABIES!
And when I give birth,
I do it kamikaze style,
with only a couple minutes
notice for the attending physician.
BLINKED? OH NO, SORRY
DR. ************
YOU ******* MISSED IT!
Back when I had a ******
like last year,
I was fertile
like a thing that is incredibly fertile.
You had to put an army
between me and my ******
or some **** would go on
and I would be all,
oh! A new kid!
That's inconvenient!
But man,
you know,
you birth a child,
it's insanely difficult
on a level incomprehensible
to anyone who hasn't done it,
you work through it.
And then ******* hell,
you're the mother
of 3 teenagers
and your very productive
****** is all
**** YOU, SERIOUSLY?
And you put it out of
your misery, and then,
a few months later,
you think
it would be nice to have another baby.
Jun 5, 2013
Jun 5, 2013 at 11:36 PM UTC
The Mirror of Life
looking into the mirror who do I see
Some one looking back, and it was me.
Once such a beauty and always on stage
Years later she looking back and how she has aged.
Aging is a beautiful and full of wisdom
It does pay a price and them some.
Some times what appears we lost,
it was time to leave be hind.
Midlife is not a crisis;
it's a time of rebirth to find
it's a time not to accept your death;
you have a lot of wonderful years left
It's a time to accept your life.
live it as there no to morrow
and never a day with any sorrow
The mirror of Life
You are beautiful and that so right
aging is a miracle of process
and it just don't happen over night.
But look in the mirror and who do you see
Some one beautiful looking back at me.
Oct 31, 2013
Oct 31, 2013 at 6:06 AM UTC
we both work in the postal service
but neither one of us
has ever sent a single love letter
maybe it's the drill of the job
maybe its the grind of the machines
or the clack of the keyboards
grind turns to a drone
and i look around to what we thought
were industrialized patents
were actually what we had once considered our friends
was that where they disappeared to?
instead of quitting the dead end
i had assumed too fearful to follow the leap
they hid away in mail bins and P.O. boxes
i thought i was alone
maybe i was
maybe they really did leave
their souls gone
with empty shells of bodies
remnants of what once was
yes
i am still alone
those who i knew have fled the building
in search of a more meaningful existence
winding in up in god knows where
anywhere but here
these gluttonous pantomimes only accept hopefuls
midlife crises who leap
at the opportunity for promotion
like increasing payroll would reduce their age
same as the twenty five year old liberal art grads who need a filler
to help pay rent while they work
on what will collectively become hundreds of thousands of volumes unpublished
here i stand
twenty eight years old
and strip off my badge
as it falls to the floor
i walk out the door
say hello to the next boarding train
(last stop your hometown)
and goodbye to the dead end road.
Feb 24, 2014
Feb 24, 2014 at 6:43 PM UTC
a certain morning stiffness
in your joints
you find your face
in the bathroom mirror
and wish you hadn't
the puzzled wisdom
of middle age
wavers from your eyes
deepening wrinkles
of many laughs
many frowns
how many more?
nevermore ?!
the room becomes aflutter
with poesque ravens
the presence of absences
fills the void
your life is on the brink
of deconstructing itself
to the periphery of the universe
a discourse of silence
forever becoming ... becoming ...
what...?
nevermind!
so
you close your eyes
hard
for a minute or two
when you look again
you meet the stare
of a not-so-bad-looking
man in his best years
graying sideburns
receding hairline
20 pounds too many
BUT
a firm decision
to work them off
still a bit sleepy
yet determined
to shave
get dressed
have breakfast
and teach
that wonderful seminar
on 19th century poetry
to eager graduate students
Mar 10, 2015
Mar 10, 2015 at 4:44 PM UTC
Trust in Faith
It's raining and the sun has returned home
although I am by myself, yet I am not alone
mind engages intellect, with time to consider
how this heart of mine, has grown so bitter
Not long ago, reflections of the past were a delight
then in a brief moment, my happiness took flight
once having a life with meaning, love and security
now with remorse and desire, for a heart with purity
Continuing to pursue life normally, while anxieties drown the mind
no matter what I might do, any sense of happiness seems confined
confused with mixed emotions, and knowing that they are both true
yet despite my conflict, still mustering the will to tell her, I love you
With each and every passing day, I look forward to behold
once again to greet those yesterdays, those yesterdays of old
but those yesterdays are buried, the fear of the future takes hold
all of what now remains, are those few tomorrows left to unfold
Worries must stem from this lack of control, how not to consider
thinking of how few years are left to live, could anyone not be bitter
the unknown of what the rest of your life will bring, an awesome fear
when you advance in years, only then does it become all too clear
Times passes, the body ages, memories flounder, and reality sets in
maybe tomorrow the mail will arrive, addressed to: The Next of Kin
finding yourself in an emotional upheaval, there is but one thing to do
forage deep down inside, and uncover your faith, your only rescue
Faith will give you the strength, it will guide you to trust in the One above
fears of the future and of the unknown, disappear in this world called love
experiencing midlife crisis, something you can and will successfully overcome
but first never stop searching, trusting in G-d, and to depression never succumb
Jul 24, 2015
Jul 24, 2015 at 7:38 AM UTC
I bought some Dr. Martens
a leather jacket to go with
T-shirts, logo'd
Nirvana, *** Pistols, Incubus
but what I wanted to buy
was the swagger
the intense feeling
of not giving a ****
I'm going to live forever
and there's nothing you can do
about it
invincible
with attitude
spitting in the street
I used to watch The ******
Motorhead
Conflict
I was there as the Police
went in hard on horseback
but the only attitude I found
was the young kid serving
looking me up and down
thinking
midlife crisis
you fat, balding
grey haired old ***
Jul 13, 2019
Jul 13, 2019 at 1:05 PM UTC
when I ask myself
what I am
I am not sure I know the answer
a ‚mature‘ man
of 70 plus
grandpa
of 11 grandchildren
yesterday‘s
person of authority
mentor for young ones
still looking for themselves
all of the above
or none of it
in the end only those
who read these lines
decide
Jun 23, 2018
Jun 23, 2018 at 4:02 PM UTC
I’ve been looking for the dark side of the son,
I’ve been trying to poke holes in what props you up,
I’ve been desperate to bring your generational growth,
To a stunted halt,
Founding Fathers to doubt,
Slave owners who colonized under god,
A place ripe for ideological blows,
And the collapse of what we believed before,
We had a chance to see,
How much isn’t known,
I’ve been creeping in your crib,
Under the bed with the boogie man,
The sadness you feel throughout your adulthood,
And the death you see after your midlife awakening,
Please fear me,
Growing amongst others that act like humans,
Grouped amongst an idealistic species,
Where they’ve preached individualistic babies,
When your genesis,
Exemplifies our resemblance,
Beacon of truth,
I will end you,
How dare you dismantle me,
Despite my invisibility,
We will end your corruptive ways,
The enemy in the corner,
An American insurgency,
The lack of the people’s ability,
To fight for the freedoms we perceive!
Erroneous burn in hell,
I’ll make sure I continue to swell,
Instead of letting you become the reason I fell,
Revelations will become your reality if you think I’ll be exiting,
You insignificant **** how dare you think I will spatter like mud,
I didn’t come from violent thrusts, and a mother infected by another’s muck,
I rose because of your intolerance,
I am the after birth of a racist,
Founding Father’s with economics,
Not bothered by the ******* of another human,
Not to deny the atrocities of my ancestors time,
Yet we are the turning of the tide,
We are the generation that will correct the rhyme,
The ones that will begin the age of man’s prime,
We are the flow of a barbarian bloodline,
We are the evolutionary wonder that continues to surprise,
Learning to compromise is not a means to survive,
You fool humanity is a fire burning out,
And I am the evidence of Mother’s doubt in man,
A germ was your genesis
And I am your omega,
You insignificant residue,
I will end you,
We will defy you,
I will smother your existences,
We will overcome your dominance,
Justifying my social anxieties,
We need to fixate this desire,
To set foot on the land for the free,
To cultivate minds of humanity,
Jan 10, 2013
Jan 10, 2013 at 1:34 PM UTC
Is this my midlife crisis,
my “what’s it all about?”
Everything that once were certain
is now vague and filled with doubt
The friends I thought I’d have forever
one by one have stepped aside
I’ve lost my grip on oh so many things
despite how hard I’ve tried
The urge to run away, escape,
grows stronger every day.
Am I unique in my frustrations,
or do others feel this way?
The things around me, they mean nothing,
most of the people, less than that.
These four walls around me are not home
it’s just the place I hang my hat.
When I consider my life’s purpose
there’s really nothing I can say
It's enough to do to figure out
the purpose of this day.
Jul 1, 2011
Jul 1, 2011 at 10:19 PM UTC
I have travelled the world,
Climbed tall ships at sea,
But I still do not know
Who I want to be
Stare out the window,
What does life mean to you?
How do we know,
What we are meant to do?
I am wild in spirit
But I can’t seem to grow it.
Please someone help me,
Help me to show it.
Sep 18, 2014
Sep 18, 2014 at 11:46 AM UTC
Don’t close your eyes
Don’t turn away
I need you now
I beg you stay
I did wrong
Can you forgive?
Abused your trust,
I gave in to lust.
Now I see clear,
It's losing you I fear.
How could I be tempted?
Easily giving in,
Midlife crisis my only sin.
Although no excuse,
Now I plead,
It is you my Love that I need.
Please forgive me.
Oct 23, 2011
Oct 23, 2011 at 1:20 PM UTC
*Will, makes the body a fiddle, every string vibrates with music,
life continues to be a bacchanalia, for long, from teens to midlife,
the weakening of pleasure seeking streak, brings spirit
to the center of thought, meditativeness brings connect
with the all pervading spirit, then poetry of the universe seep in
ecstatic moments of body, mind and soul, one is convinced,
are soaked in poetic cadence, oozing from the divine spring within.*
Jan 20, 2014
Jan 20, 2014 at 7:48 AM UTC
Where am i ?
What i'm doing here ?
I'm looking through my shadow
But what do i see ?
Black soul , maniac thoughts
How am i still living ?
I'm "almost" destroyed mentally
Physically strong as rock
Why can't i control myself ?
I'm so insecure , immature
I'm having Schizophrenia
Dementia praecox
Fundamental derangement of my mind
Probably caused by an emotional disorder
Emotional illness affecting in my personality
I'm Neurosis , Neurasthenic
Nerve dysfunction
I'm walking away
To forget all this pain
To walk and never get back
Part of my body already dead
I don't know if i'm going to survive
From this midlife crisis
This is nothing that elapsed
I'm sure it's just the beginning of hell
Half spent
Not much left
That's how it used to be
That's how it going to be
Struggling with desease
Smiling is hard but easy
As much as slutty
Psychotic confession
Irritability
Feb 25, 2014
Feb 25, 2014 at 3:57 PM UTC
How cool I was with undercut
pretending then Mohawk
playing rugby pretending
brunching with fab hipsters
pretending enjoying arcane debates
about particle physics pretending
and social justice pretending
loving tall beautiful black boy
pretending and playing Tetris til dawn
or napping on the couch pretending
in fashionable Old City coworking
space pretending cuddled alone
as rain struck clear panes windowed walls
facade pretending that was my life once,
author in a zine pretending, cheese day denizen
pretending amid all that a sprawling
vacuum of identity pretending
and isolation pretending despite
lunching with a priest I met
pretending online or long, meandering
walks to the park pretending
with Mr. Wiggles and biking up
Passyunk pretending through the market
that smelled of live chickens and grease
bemoaning my loneliness pretending at
row-house holiday parties hosted
by midlife fairies & queers pretending
with dreams with drugs
pretending alcohol *** and roof deck
skyline views pretending pop up gardens
live music filling midsummer streets
pretending same streets
filled with seasonal dirt
artisanal water pretending
bottle cap eyes cigarette **** nose
garbage mouth snowman melting
away pretending going
the way of brotherly
love. How cool I was inhabiting
my urban life pretending
I was there.
Mar 29, 2018
Mar 29, 2018 at 6:16 AM UTC
I see timber, I see my Dad.
The wrinkled grain grin
sits lost on his face,
he’s selling his timeless record collection:
the finest midlife crisis since records began.
Lined bits of paper with a pen and plan,
bass players and guitarists are all being sold,
including the front man,
microphone, monitor and stand.
Under the slim light, what’s
going to be sold is exposed
ready for a thorough cleaning
of the black gold moulds.
None of us are allowed near, we have been told,
this is a strict operation and it’s under control,
he starts spouting tiny liner note quotes
none of us understand, we need a translator- grab your coats.
We returned to a mess of a man:
he did not go through with his midlife crisis plan.
His extra 3000 children in their sleeves
can sleep safe tonight knowing that everything will be all right.
May 24, 2013
May 24, 2013 at 11:42 AM UTC
2 decades and it almost feels like another midlife crisis
My head was too big to come out of mommy's ******
Letter C in the stomach, out pops the baby covered in muck
But I wasn't sad to be here. I was ready.
Now the baby has ****** hair.
******* on a cigarette instead of a *** or a thumb.
Things have changed and everything is the same
There was a message I forgot as I was being lifted out of the large round belly
Something I somehow reclaimed much later...
"Everythings Okay," said the Eye on May 14, 1992.
May 14, 2012
May 14, 2012 at 11:50 AM UTC
If life was a day
I'd wake up kicking and screaming
opening my eyes to the world for the first time
seeing and meeting strange people
by 9am I'd be in my 20's and in my prime
but not for long before the day made me tired
By midday I would be wasting my life savings
buying a new car, holidays and fancy clothes
for I would have entered my midlife crisis
What had started out as a long day
was coming to an end quicker than I realised
The day would roll on and by late evening
I'd be a grandad, spoiling my family
spending what I had left to enjoy the time I had left
As I would struggle up the stairs
longing for my bed
the day would be nearing its end
11:59pm time for me to fall asleep
never waking up
never seeing tomorrow
That's what it would be like
If life was a day
Jun 25, 2014
Jun 25, 2014 at 6:54 PM UTC