We tried to build a lovers' dream out of
broken hope, escape and, fast food fantasy.
But it seems the road always led too far
and, our automobile was old and battered.
We sang songs filled with promise still,
we missed some road signs along the way.
I will never hurt you you said as
you dragged jagged blades through my flesh
I will never desert you was my sacred pledge
while I tied on my get-away shoes and fled.
Broken angels with crippled wings
reaching out for each other as we pulled apart.
What a story we two could have been together
if we had only known when and where to start.
The Poet
Sunday, March 5, 2017
Tomorrow's Battles Fought Yesterday by Ronald S Porter ©2017
chased through dreams by robot humans
nazi soldiers from the Alley Cat bar
along the winding course weaving
through streets of long ago
dead ends and switchbacks at
kingdom hall playing hide and seek
among memories of forgotten places
the enemy close enough to see
and hear always just out of sight
past the ancient monument that
could be a temple plucked
from egypt's archaic sands of just
ruins of deserted lodges of prince hall
at last, at last, i came to rest
in a valley of ghetto fences and doors
there my pursuing foes are found
trapped surrounded by the loyal poor
and we slaughtered them every one
just as dead as the two dispatched
that set off the mad pursuit
nazi soldiers from the Alley Cat bar
along the winding course weaving
through streets of long ago
dead ends and switchbacks at
kingdom hall playing hide and seek
among memories of forgotten places
the enemy close enough to see
and hear always just out of sight
past the ancient monument that
could be a temple plucked
from egypt's archaic sands of just
ruins of deserted lodges of prince hall
at last, at last, i came to rest
in a valley of ghetto fences and doors
there my pursuing foes are found
trapped surrounded by the loyal poor
and we slaughtered them every one
just as dead as the two dispatched
that set off the mad pursuit
The Love We Never Shared by Ronald S Porter ©2017
You once said:
My dreams are like a TV in my head.
I said do they come with a remote?
You didn't think it was funny.
I laughed so hard I peed.
So you ran away to the circus
Low pay, high wire,
single wide trailer home but, you got
all the popcorn and hot dogs you could eat.
They let you ride the elephants;
you were content.
I've never been contented; I don't allow it;
I think contentment is for cows.
And that is no bull.
You wrote and said you were coming back,
to seek reconciliation.
I said we never were conciliated to start-
How could we do it again?
You hitched a ride during off-season,
with twenty-three clowns, in a VW bug.
The car broke down in Rockford, Illinois.
I have some distant relatives there
So, I drove down to lend a hand,
because of the theory of relativity.
I figured I'd murder an avian duet
As long as I had me one stone.
I found you at the side of the road
in a construction zone on Route 45;
They been repairing that strip of road
since back in nineteen fifty-sex.
You were painted in stage makeup,
Standing twenty-first in line.
I bought you a ticket to Omaha
I headed to Washington AC and DC
(For very current rock and roll)
I think about you now and then,
and never forget to remember,
Our romance will always be, in memory:
TV stations; bus stations; destinations;
all our reservations; and you, stranded
on US Highway forty-five,
in a tiny car full of clowns.
... Thank you; thank you vera much
Elvis has never been in this building
That motherfucker is dead.
My dreams are like a TV in my head.
I said do they come with a remote?
You didn't think it was funny.
I laughed so hard I peed.
So you ran away to the circus
Low pay, high wire,
single wide trailer home but, you got
all the popcorn and hot dogs you could eat.
They let you ride the elephants;
you were content.
I've never been contented; I don't allow it;
I think contentment is for cows.
And that is no bull.
You wrote and said you were coming back,
to seek reconciliation.
I said we never were conciliated to start-
How could we do it again?
You hitched a ride during off-season,
with twenty-three clowns, in a VW bug.
The car broke down in Rockford, Illinois.
I have some distant relatives there
So, I drove down to lend a hand,
because of the theory of relativity.
I figured I'd murder an avian duet
As long as I had me one stone.
I found you at the side of the road
in a construction zone on Route 45;
They been repairing that strip of road
since back in nineteen fifty-sex.
You were painted in stage makeup,
Standing twenty-first in line.
I bought you a ticket to Omaha
I headed to Washington AC and DC
(For very current rock and roll)
I think about you now and then,
and never forget to remember,
Our romance will always be, in memory:
TV stations; bus stations; destinations;
all our reservations; and you, stranded
on US Highway forty-five,
in a tiny car full of clowns.
... Thank you; thank you vera much
Elvis has never been in this building
That motherfucker is dead.
That's About The Size Of It by Ronald S Porter ©2017
Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dette
fired up another cigarette
then walked a country mile
down the king's high way.
said Tweedle Dee
it occurs to me
(as onwardly he plodded)
there is nothing left to do and say
when all is said and done
Tweedle Dette simply nodded.
fired up another cigarette
then walked a country mile
down the king's high way.
said Tweedle Dee
it occurs to me
(as onwardly he plodded)
there is nothing left to do and say
when all is said and done
Tweedle Dette simply nodded.
Surrealistic Theory; Esoteric Reality by Ronald S Porter ©2016
Psychic bunny rabbit hit-men plane my demise;
So I'm eating chocolate peanut butter bars,
in a tree house just south of Kankakee.
Babes in toy-land; babes in arms, they are
all babes in the woods you see.
Lambs, among the wolves, run rampant;
The hens have invaded the fox-house now!
And, all your crying won't do no good,
somebody plays a violent violin , somehow.
Oh, the wily raccoons are subverting;
On the borders, soldiers are deserting;
While walking dead talking heads are spurting
lies that they themselves believe true.
All the temples they desecrate
and, cures the red, the white and, blue.
All the proctors and priests pontificate,
While the democrats mentally masturbate.
And these things just prove it is true-
Procrastination is just like masturbation
The only one you fuck is you!
So I'm eating chocolate peanut butter bars,
in a tree house just south of Kankakee.
Babes in toy-land; babes in arms, they are
all babes in the woods you see.
Lambs, among the wolves, run rampant;
The hens have invaded the fox-house now!
And, all your crying won't do no good,
somebody plays a violent violin , somehow.
Oh, the wily raccoons are subverting;
On the borders, soldiers are deserting;
While walking dead talking heads are spurting
lies that they themselves believe true.
All the temples they desecrate
and, cures the red, the white and, blue.
All the proctors and priests pontificate,
While the democrats mentally masturbate.
And these things just prove it is true-
Procrastination is just like masturbation
The only one you fuck is you!
Friday, February 3, 2017
An Evil Wind Blows... A Dodoitsu by Ron Porter ©2017
I walk at night, dejected.
Love loss pain does fill my heart.
I just shit my pants; I thought
I only had to fart.
Love loss pain does fill my heart.
I just shit my pants; I thought
I only had to fart.
Why, Oh Why? Ronald S Porter ©2017
Oh! hot finger tips, hips and lips;
Cinnamon candy and, honey drips
Oh woman tell me- why, oh why
For what reason does this man find
the female so pleasing to the eye
Yet, so disconcerting to the mind?
Cinnamon candy and, honey drips
Oh woman tell me- why, oh why
For what reason does this man find
the female so pleasing to the eye
Yet, so disconcerting to the mind?
Just A Little Bit Of Nothing by Ron Porter ©2017
No musical strains and, no dance floor,
Pains of long ago, linger at the door;
I walk in rains on the sandy lake shore.
Memory stains cling to my core;
My poor brain is weary and sore.
And, like thunder echos in the night-
In love’s reins, I hear anguish roar.
Pains of long ago, linger at the door;
I walk in rains on the sandy lake shore.
Memory stains cling to my core;
My poor brain is weary and sore.
And, like thunder echos in the night-
In love’s reins, I hear anguish roar.
Sa’tidday Night In Nigga Town by Ronald S Porte ©2017 (apologies to Laurence Dunbar)
Bug-eyed boogie boys practicin’on they horns;
Gran’pa got a razor blade - shaving his corns.
Pig foot smell floating in da air;
Auntie in da kitchin burnin’ her hair.
Brother man messin roun wit da deacon’s wife
Royal Crown fo clowns; I'se wit Spo’tin Waves,
Going out to injoy sum spo’tin life.
All the slangers, singers en big dick slingers,
Go pimpin on down to da Black n Tan.
Got ta get muh right fo Sa’tiddy night,
Gone go meet dat reet ol reefer man
Wit a dollah en a dime en muh hand.
All the slick chicks done grab dey beaus
And the sharp cats all got hole uh dey hos
After midnight chil, ever thang goes!
Lawd ha murcy we’ll be thowin it on down,
Cos its Sa’tiddy nite en Nigga town.
We gone do the Hi-Dee-Hi, Buck en Wang
We gone Shim-Sham Shimmy shake
Ever body will be muggin en a’buggin;
Snuggling en hugging til daylite break.
Drinkin wine n gin, we gone hi-side and sin;
Come on bahtender, set up a nuther round!
Den we’ll all sleep thu da Sunday sermon agin.
Afta a jumpin Sa’tiddy nite down in Nigga town
Gran’pa got a razor blade - shaving his corns.
Pig foot smell floating in da air;
Auntie in da kitchin burnin’ her hair.
Brother man messin roun wit da deacon’s wife
Royal Crown fo clowns; I'se wit Spo’tin Waves,
Going out to injoy sum spo’tin life.
All the slangers, singers en big dick slingers,
Go pimpin on down to da Black n Tan.
Got ta get muh right fo Sa’tiddy night,
Gone go meet dat reet ol reefer man
Wit a dollah en a dime en muh hand.
All the slick chicks done grab dey beaus
And the sharp cats all got hole uh dey hos
After midnight chil, ever thang goes!
Lawd ha murcy we’ll be thowin it on down,
Cos its Sa’tiddy nite en Nigga town.
We gone do the Hi-Dee-Hi, Buck en Wang
We gone Shim-Sham Shimmy shake
Ever body will be muggin en a’buggin;
Snuggling en hugging til daylite break.
Drinkin wine n gin, we gone hi-side and sin;
Come on bahtender, set up a nuther round!
Den we’ll all sleep thu da Sunday sermon agin.
Afta a jumpin Sa’tiddy nite down in Nigga town
Tuesday, January 31, 2017
Nothing But The Blues by Ronald S Porter ©2017
I ain't got nothin' but the blues.
My car isn't running.
It's been six years of so since a taste of honey;
It am not funnin' you, I'm all out of money.
It's no joke, I just sit home, stroke and smoke
and I'm running low on cigarettes.
Loaded with debt;- I can't cover bets.
Wondering why I have no membership card,
'cause though I never get the club's newsletter,
I keep on paying the dues. I got no place to go
but, a lot of cool shoes. Otherwise life is hard
And I ain't got nothin' but the blues.
So I am caught between Charybdis and Scylla!
I wrote the preceding line in deference
to all the smart ass, snobby, critics who say
True Poetry must include a literary reference
My car isn't running.
It's been six years of so since a taste of honey;
It am not funnin' you, I'm all out of money.
It's no joke, I just sit home, stroke and smoke
and I'm running low on cigarettes.
Loaded with debt;- I can't cover bets.
Wondering why I have no membership card,
'cause though I never get the club's newsletter,
I keep on paying the dues. I got no place to go
but, a lot of cool shoes. Otherwise life is hard
And I ain't got nothin' but the blues.
So I am caught between Charybdis and Scylla!
I wrote the preceding line in deference
to all the smart ass, snobby, critics who say
True Poetry must include a literary reference
Freed At Last? by Ronald S Porter ©2017
We never fled across desert, yet
wandered a hostile desolate land.
We moved no stone to erect
monuments to tower o'er hot sand.
Yet, we poured sweat, tears and blood
into black earth from sun to sun,
never to prosper from crops grown.
We had no names; we owned no field;
not one thing to call our own.
Oh! Pharoah's army ne'er pursued,
When word came Let My people go!
There was no home to return to, so
we lingered in that hostile place;
life was hard, the people mean.
Gone were the old cold iron chains;
replaced by shackles of links unseen
Still we cry, we sweat we bleed.
And the very ones who parented our pain
ask what have you for which to complain?
wandered a hostile desolate land.
We moved no stone to erect
monuments to tower o'er hot sand.
Yet, we poured sweat, tears and blood
into black earth from sun to sun,
never to prosper from crops grown.
We had no names; we owned no field;
not one thing to call our own.
Oh! Pharoah's army ne'er pursued,
When word came Let My people go!
There was no home to return to, so
we lingered in that hostile place;
life was hard, the people mean.
Gone were the old cold iron chains;
replaced by shackles of links unseen
Still we cry, we sweat we bleed.
And the very ones who parented our pain
ask what have you for which to complain?
Captured: A Love Poem? by Ronald S Porter ©2017
you read the secret of my dreams
you took my love for ransom
you chained my heart to your own
so that i would not make escape
ah! too late you saw your mistake
for in binding me to you
you made your self a captive too
oh sweet captivity!
two prisoners now locked in tandem
captured warriors in war called love
chained and bound yet not enslaved
neither do i seek to be set free
two hearts enlocked myself and thee
my only desire now is to be
for always held your captive. you
who read the secret of my dreams
you took my love for ransom
you chained my heart to your own
so that i would not make escape
ah! too late you saw your mistake
for in binding me to you
you made your self a captive too
oh sweet captivity!
two prisoners now locked in tandem
captured warriors in war called love
chained and bound yet not enslaved
neither do i seek to be set free
two hearts enlocked myself and thee
my only desire now is to be
for always held your captive. you
who read the secret of my dreams
Bow Bown King Nebuchadnezzar, Bow Down by Ron Porter ©2017
To my own self I set to erect an idol,
that I would construct of solid gold.
Consider, I halt twixt divine and profane.
Nor am I set perfectly between;
Thus I do not achieve the golden mean.
My construction would have been vain.
Neither could I match the golden section,
For I have two feet of clay.
So, I forsook my statue's erection;
I gave up the grand construction.
Discerning the folly of my endeavor.
I sat at The Master's feet, for instruction
Such shall I seek always and, for ever.
that I would construct of solid gold.
Consider, I halt twixt divine and profane.
Nor am I set perfectly between;
Thus I do not achieve the golden mean.
My construction would have been vain.
Neither could I match the golden section,
For I have two feet of clay.
So, I forsook my statue's erection;
I gave up the grand construction.
Discerning the folly of my endeavor.
I sat at The Master's feet, for instruction
Such shall I seek always and, for ever.
Psalm 152 by Ronald S Porter ©2017
Oh ye dry bones, hear the word of the Lord.
From the valley of suffering and lack;
From vales of death-like drug addiction;
Low places obscured by mountains;
Mountains of ignorance, poverty and despair.
Come now, dry bones, assemble together!
Flesh torn from bodies, by switches and whips.
Chaffed by shackles and hangmen's noose;
Ripped away by persecution,and trial.
Now I will knit back on your frames.
I shall cover restored flesh, wrap it in skin;
Dark skin reminiscent of African nights.
The wind I shall send to breathe for you;
Breath of The Spirit, I put in you!
Be once more, a living people.
Hear the word, now, of The Lord
Ye Dry bones, O! Live again.
Remember My love, children, and prosper.
Call my name my people, and rejoice.
From the valley of suffering and lack;
From vales of death-like drug addiction;
Low places obscured by mountains;
Mountains of ignorance, poverty and despair.
Come now, dry bones, assemble together!
Flesh torn from bodies, by switches and whips.
Chaffed by shackles and hangmen's noose;
Ripped away by persecution,and trial.
Now I will knit back on your frames.
I shall cover restored flesh, wrap it in skin;
Dark skin reminiscent of African nights.
The wind I shall send to breathe for you;
Breath of The Spirit, I put in you!
Be once more, a living people.
Hear the word, now, of The Lord
Ye Dry bones, O! Live again.
Remember My love, children, and prosper.
Call my name my people, and rejoice.
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