The Poet

The Poet

Sunday, January 27, 2019

It’s A Lollipop by Ronald S Porter ©2019

Big Jim bought the farm tonight
outside the Rise And Shine
He took a bullet in the back
sittin’ in his Cadillac
Shady Sadie started cryin
and went running down the block.
Now, all the nickle-dime rustlers
all the boosters, hos and hustlers
have started salivatin,‘Cause,
they know his house ain’t locked.
A big screen TV for the taking;
there’s jewelry, iphones and his stash.
maybe even a pile of hidden cash!
man, it’s got folks’ hearts palpitating.
Everybody is moving and, quick;
it’s a lollipop and they all want a lick,
before the po-leece force shows up
and, starts in with the investigating.

Happy Fool by Ronald S Porter ©2019

Before I sang the heartbreak blues
Before I put on my travelin’ shoes
Back when I believed true love lasts forever
What a happy fool I was.

When I did not know hearts could be turned cold
When I hadn’t learned what people will do for gold.
Back when I believed love can conquer all
What a happy fool I was.

Now I’ve been schooled in deceit and malice
Now, I know how to shield my heart in callous
Since truth taught me to be a skeptic and cynic
What a wise but sad man Am I

Too long lonely; too much alone
Despite the disappointments I have known
I choose to believe love still waits for me
And I will, once more, a happy fool be.

Kissed In The Night by Ron Porter ©2019

romantic love seems long ago
that dizzy, dancing, flying, falling feeling
more addictive than heroin;
sweet a s sugar; thrilling like cocaine
now memories are all that remain
of the breathless anticipation
and the passion filled abandon


Now without the substance to hold
left to cling to only memory
I do not sadden i feel no loss
rather I rejoice gratefully
that romance love once called my name
and kissed me in the night

It Ain’t That Funny Leroy #3 by Ron Porter ©2019

Hunger rides a crippled horse
poverty is a car without wheels
in a wretched house, no wolf is at the door
but a whole pack lives on the second floor
broken windows; empty dreams
screams and sirens stalk the streets
down the way a broken playground
on rusty children’s equipment skeletons play
there’s not enough take home pay or whiskey
to relieve the dismay, pain or suffering

Popeye chicken bones , like bread crumbs
lead dead men back to hollow homes
mannikin-like ghosts crowd the night
and, every single, living person feels alone
it hurts all the way down to the marrow
buried deep inside the broken bone

Hard Luck Story Blues by Ron Porter ©2019

Here you come with your sad, sad, song;
telling everybody how I broke your heart.
I wasn’t the only one who done some wrong.
truth is: you got a real good head start.
Now you’re walking around all pouty,
with fallen face; looking all forlorn.
Come on now; that just the breaks.
Sometimes it breaks good;
sometimes it breaks bad.
You ain’t the only one angry, hurt and sad.


Don’t act like you gave me something so
rare and special, that I had never had.
I guess it just surprised you to find
that I could could hit and quit it;
do without it and forget it.
And never really give a shit I left it behind.


It’s not like you gave me anything
that many others never got to get.
You were no shining angel when we met.                        So you got your hard luck story;
well baby, I got mine
We can compare our love scars
over a bottle of good red wine.
But, we’ll have to that some other day
‘Cause, right now I just ain’t got the time!