The Poet

The Poet

Thursday, January 1, 2015

Way Too Soon By Ron Porter ©2014

Everything I want I get
Not right away and it never lasts
All good things it seem
Have a very short shelf life and all
Seem to reach expiration date
Way too soon.
And once it’s gone it’s just as if
I never had it to begin with
Leaving me full of empty; always
Wanting...          and
Everything I want I get.

Christmas In America, 2014 by Ronald S Porter ©2014

Merry Christmas, deck the halls
Demonstrators close the malls
Justice of vengeance, voices call
Bullets fly and bodies fall

Media feed chaos and confusion
State dictates wealth redistribution
Destroy each traditional institution
Sell Lady Liberty into prostitution

tax the rich to enslave the poor
The IRS wants more, more, more!
Bullshit covers The Senate floor
Meanwhile, the wolf busts down the door

Congress, Senate and The President
Twist the laws to implement
Marxist policies with one intent
To steal liberty by tiny increment

Staccato Serenade by Ronald S Porter ©2014

How well i remember a time and place
where the streets sounded like saxophones
the girl had a technicolor movie screen faces,
billboard smiles and bubblegum kisses
The boys all had a tom-cat strut
jack-knife legs, and razor minds
and spotlight eyes that hit all the misses
there was electric neon smoke in the air
None of heard the clocks that kept ticking
we had strawberry wine and barbeque chicken
and cars so fast they arrived before they left
I faded every bet that the streets ever made
I always knew when my baby was coming
by the sound of stilettos click, click, clicking
in her high heeled, staccato serenade.

Blueberry Skies by Ronald S Porter ©2014

Under blueberry marmalade skies
I kissed a girl with tangerine eyes
Her lips tasted of mango sweet
and her hair smelled of apples and spice

Sunlight, like golden rose petals fell
to caress our skin with warm and bright
The green fields stirred by summer winds
moved like waves do, across the sea

We laid out a picnic of youthful affection
Of heated indulgence, we ate our fill
Tasted the sweetness of laughter and lust
and drank deep the wine of love.

Gone is the day, yet in my mind's eyes
Are frozen the images of electric passion
that crackled like static over our skin
below the blueberry marmalade skies