Hot strut, street-cold eyes,
is there anything alive
inside behind the flawless face
disregard beauty and body grace
forget the curling crown of red
ignore sapphire fire in the gaze
it will leave you in a daze
look beyond and you will find
a rapacious reptilian mind
she's crocodile hungry, cobra quick,
razor sharp and serpent slick
the other guys on the corner
shiver in that glance of ice
immobilized, they stand transfixed
like terror-frozen, trembling mice.
Myself, I move into her path
and approach with impunity
when you've been snake bit as often as me
you develop an immunity.
Sharing fresh, new original poetry in a post-literary world. This is a place to come and watch poets teach the language to dance.
The Poet
Friday, October 24, 2014
Thursday, October 23, 2014
late night Be-Bop Ramble by Ronald S Porter ©2014
Well, my first impulse
is second nature
and the third time is the charm
my lover is athletic
the bartender is sympathetic
right now everything is copesetic
and nobody set off
any of the burglar alarms
I got charms and potions
from across the five oceans
and around the seven seas
My woman has my heart
all my pledges and devotions
and foreplay is the only thing
that brings me to my knees
So, I'm living for the moment
and every minute is now
I've had more fun
and dirty deeds done
than the legal laws allow
You can be sure
my love is pure and
I will keep the promise
just as long as
you don't break the vow
is second nature
and the third time is the charm
my lover is athletic
the bartender is sympathetic
right now everything is copesetic
and nobody set off
any of the burglar alarms
I got charms and potions
from across the five oceans
and around the seven seas
My woman has my heart
all my pledges and devotions
and foreplay is the only thing
that brings me to my knees
So, I'm living for the moment
and every minute is now
I've had more fun
and dirty deeds done
than the legal laws allow
You can be sure
my love is pure and
I will keep the promise
just as long as
you don't break the vow
Cheap, One Night Stand A Dylanesque, Waits-flavored story) by Ronald S Porter ©2014
Well... I took my Tom Thumb's Blues*
down to Desolation Row.*
I ordered up a pitcher of misery
and, a double shot of woe,
down at Charlie's Seven Roses,
then talked up a ho. And, went off
to set the night on fire,
with the blazing flames of lust that
whiskey and cocaine can inspire;
cause she was as war weary as me,
we were both to tired to feign desire.
We rolled and wrestled til we were raw.
We talked about the things we saw
when we first lost the fairy tale glasses
that covered our eyes in innocent youth.
Never did we speak about how bleak
it had been to discover the truth
that this uncouth and ugly world
was a frigid fight filled lonely place
where, pain and poison and disgrace
are perpetually puked up in your face.
Well nothing to risk, nothing to gain
neither had reputation or pride.
So, we talked about the hidden pain;
after all there was nothing to lose
Another snort; another shot of booze
and we laid down, first side by side,
with no place to hide, and waited
back to back as the sun came up
silent and secret tears we cried.
Mourning in morning, for memories
of hopes that had been hijacked and
all those good dreams that had died.
*song titles by Bob Dylan.
down to Desolation Row.*
I ordered up a pitcher of misery
and, a double shot of woe,
down at Charlie's Seven Roses,
then talked up a ho. And, went off
to set the night on fire,
with the blazing flames of lust that
whiskey and cocaine can inspire;
cause she was as war weary as me,
we were both to tired to feign desire.
We rolled and wrestled til we were raw.
We talked about the things we saw
when we first lost the fairy tale glasses
that covered our eyes in innocent youth.
Never did we speak about how bleak
it had been to discover the truth
that this uncouth and ugly world
was a frigid fight filled lonely place
where, pain and poison and disgrace
are perpetually puked up in your face.
Well nothing to risk, nothing to gain
neither had reputation or pride.
So, we talked about the hidden pain;
after all there was nothing to lose
Another snort; another shot of booze
and we laid down, first side by side,
with no place to hide, and waited
back to back as the sun came up
silent and secret tears we cried.
Mourning in morning, for memories
of hopes that had been hijacked and
all those good dreams that had died.
*song titles by Bob Dylan.
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