The Poet

The Poet

Tuesday, April 14, 2015

March Winds, A Senryu by Ron Porter ©2015

Wind blows hard tonight

Cold front coming; chill in air.

I  recall your eyes

That Song By "HEART" ©2015

We loved and laughed all summer long
I thought we had found love real and true
because  passion and sex held on so strong
I proved, alas, to be quite mistaken;
How could I have  been so wrong?
And, on the radio, Heart sang kept singing
If you love me like music, I'll be your song

Let's Look AT The Replay by Ronald S Porter ©2015

Confusion reigns. chaos sings
outlaws control The Bunny Trail
Ain't no Peter Cottontail coming
A different drummer is drumming
 The tortoise he sits back and counts
long-shot winnings from the race.
Meanwhile the jukebox starts to scream
and the pool table has gotten hungry.
This ain't no fantasy football league
The bullets are realer than concrete
Cartoon characters hijack trucks
Cigarettes sell for a dollar per dime
The dice are rolling and if 
I don't bring nine, there ain't no Jesus, so
Don't do the crime if you can't do time.

Sweets, Soup and Song by Ronald Porter ©2015

She sang the Campbell's Soup Song
Once she sang it all night long
Doze and sing; sing and doze, it went on
from sometime just before midnight
it ended a little bit after dawn
With us too sated, even to yawn.

I loved the sweet Mocha Chocolatta
I'd bury my face in the bowl
until I had to come up for air
It was a sweet treat from down south
I loved to nibble and lick and suck it
"Til it finally melted in my mouth.

She truly appreciated my appetite
I loved the way she sang all night.

Fire Outside by Ron Porter ©2015

the streets were all on fire
the night, a living, stalking thing
the war zone was closed for repairs
we walked home in the rain

our staircase was no Jacob's ladder
at midnight the ball came to end
we mounted and found the apex
and repeated all night long

nothing was left out or, behind
there were no causes to discern
through the window-a vivid vista
and the streets continue to burn

Downside Up and outside In by Ronald S Porter ©2015

The trees are telling lies on me-
rain is falling upside down.
I have lipstick on my collar
and, a lucky penny in my shoe.
All that I can think about
is you, you, you!

Car tires hum Amazing Grace
lampposts melt down in the heat
Ice cream cones go flying south
A dime a dozen? I'll take two.
All I truly want, right now,
is a little you, you you!

The streets are rolled up for the night,
the midnight train runs at ten. 
Don't panic, the buses are running;
All the red lights just turned blue.
Baby, I'm running all the way home
to get back to... her. Yeah... her.


Odd Essay by Ron Porter ©2015

I stood in the sunshine at midnight
when the moon ran down in blood
all the stars fell from the skies
like crystal teardrops from lovers' eyes.

Like Icarus, love flew too close to the sun
So great the height-so far the fall
Tied to flesh's mast, I did suffer and thrash
Yet lived to recall the sound of the Sirens' call

Medusa's visage turned to regard me
No mirror employed nor, averted gaze
I beheld and was not turned to stone
Tho music of madness sang in my bones

Wars and adventure all became tedious.
Long ago I went out, in good company
Today I a, returned all alone just in time
to reclaim all I thought had been lost to me.

Numbered Days ©2015

Oh, depths of sorrow that rise over me
How I long to be free; unencumbered.
Tell me, if my days are numbered,
What number day might this one be?
How long, chained in slavery...

To poverty, anger, sickness and sadness?
Which number quenches flames of madness
that sear and scorch to marrow of bone?
When, what day, will torment leave me alone;
How long shall misery sit the throne?

Which is the numbered day
When desire and all its frustration,
calamity and strife, no longer hold sway?
What is the count 'til all sins I atone
and, count myself, safely home?