The Poet

The Poet

Monday, May 25, 2015

Homecoming Night by Ron Porter ©2015

Half past the nightmare hour
I sit shivering in my room
the doom approaches
no new day comes
wraiths of the dead
stand in the road
graveyard hitch hikers,
ghosts of outlaw bikers
Hell and damnation come
not a single road leads to Rome
The dead are lost,
the lost are angry
All of them are coming home.

... And It Was Good by Ron Porter ©2015

she poured me a cup
of golden sun and,
said to me “come drink”
as the wind caressed her curls
like lover’s fingers running through

Her laughing eyes and summer smile
ran like fiery little foxes
through the grassy fields around
and the sound of her voice  soothed me
like waves that wash a sandy shore

we spoke of dreams in the making
and the architecture of desire
while upon the surface of the blue lake abutting
white sails of boats that rode the waves
floated by like clouds on wounded wings

Savor The Flavor by Ron Porter ©2015

Oh, I remember the taste of you;
wild honey, spice and fresh morning dew;
as the scent of hybrid roses, peaches
promise and passion permeated the room

Your lips- ripe, effluvient with heat
red juicy and tart like pomegranate
dripped with nectar, intoxicating and sweet

I was inebriated with your love
drunker on pleasure than ever on wine
the whole world tottered and reeled
and I ate the fruit as it grew...

And, shivered at the thrill as I took my fill
and savored the flavor of you
wild honey, spice and fresh morning dew.

Birds by Ron Porter ©2015

birds ride the sky, high and free
they have it so much better than me
summer heat pushes
people from parlor to porch
street corner serenades, a capella
fired by wine and desire
oh to be a bird and ride
so far above these city streets
away from the maelstrom
the heat and weariness
of another summer spent
in poverty and want
when there is no place
you can afford to go
nothing worthwhile to do
(you would if you could)
but birds... they rise
above clouds, in night skies
man! birds have it so good

Journey From Dream To Waking by Ron Porter ©2015

I awaken,
naked, in the sunshine of your smile
and wrap myself in velvet
blankets of your tangled hair
in the seas
of surrealistic dreams

My morning toast is buttered
 with the jelly of your love
Walk with me through forests
of pepperminty trees
where honey pours from the rocks
in the newborn dawn

The images coalesce in
warm shades of tangerine
apricots and Hottentots
hide among the leaves
All the world is hush-ed
as time, for time, awaits

The moment you consent
deep within your heart
We will traverse infinity
of time and space
in the rapture
of a single good morning kiss