The Poet

The Poet

Saturday, May 11, 2013

A Brief History by Ron Porter ©2013

erratic beat, out of rhythm
lovesick hearts don't dance
you traded love for indulgence
I went and lived by the sea
factory work grew your money
high rise housing and cocaine
the street rose up and took me
oh but the weather was nice
i abdicated before the coup
gone like a thief in the night
good to be back home
you said home was your arms
my feet didn't fit the shoes
no need to look nothing to see
the phone calls lost their lure
you used up the fool in me

Restless Souls #4 by Ron Porter ©2013

There's a bar down at Four Corners
where good dreams go to die.
The place is dingy and dirty and
the back is dark enough
nobody sees the tears if you cry.

They got misery on tap
for fifty-five cents on a glass.
You can maybe get laid
or maybe get played;
On a wild night you just might
have somebody kick your ass.

The smell is always a little sour;
There is never any happy hour.
The minds are all bleary;
all the hearts are full of holes
and, if you look outside
the streets are paved with restless souls.

Restless Souls #5 by Ron Porter ©2013

failed hopes line up at the bar
to drink away the bitter taste
of dreams that never flew too far
frustration reeks! disappointment leaks
to rise with secondhand streams
of cigarette smoke, man what a joke!
money talks and bullshit strolls
and, the street is paved with restless souls

unreal expectations crowd the floor
moving to the music-the mating dance
with vain visions of romance
as the girls size up the fellas
there ain't no more cinderellas
happy ending? not even a chance
every smile is a lie as they play the roles
outside, the streets are paved with restless souls

the rubberneckers crowd the stage
all caught up in in hormonal rage
on the beat with the bump and grind
man she's a looker, maybe she's a hooker
is she looking at me or
is that all in my mind
man she sure can work them poles
filled with lusty alcoholic glow
and the streets are paved with
aw hell, you know....