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Ron Sep 2020
There's a gleam of green in the sunset red,
There's a stir of blue in the quiet mood,
There's an odious glow in the dusk outside,
Tonight, I’ll have my wine inside.
There’s none but me in this empty room,
Drinking lonely in in a swoon,
And yet still I hear a ****** voice,
Where moonlight fingers the window ledge.
Shall I calm the thoughts within my head?
No, I think I’ll drink my wine instead.
Ron Sep 2020
What the material world values
Does not shine the same
in the truth of my soul.
Long have I been intrigued
by her shadow.
The sun a mere backdrop
to her grace and beauty.
I have need to rest lightly,
In her shade.
Ron Sep 2020
Who has placed a shadow,
between the sun and I
to sense the aura
of a dark atmosphere
just under my mortal skin?

Who then chases my myth,
soaked in the blood
of the primordial hunt?

Who will concentrate,
My unknown language
into a singular cry
that falls heavy
into the eternal night?

Who then will search for me
Within the endless depths
of my suspended life?

Who will find meaning
in this poem hidden
from the hands of knowledge
waiting in shadows
with a hesitant touch?

Who indeed,
Would even care so much?
Ron Aug 2020
That cold narrow slab,
hardly any larger than a child's bed,
is where Alejandro died.
I bore away with him the tears of his gods,
the weight of his death, the frailty of his love.
I who separated them, his words and things,
Who did blend them with the cries and torments,
of that most foul and dark place
Knew he had come to an end.
With no smile amongst my flooding tears,
I longed for home for a few wretched hours,
While I waited him to breathe again

Could there be no sorrow too distant, too remote,
No lash to hard, no fear too impalpable,
To quell our captors delight?
Alejandro from birth through ****** pain
His faith an undefinable surge gaining perch,
Within my stirring and unearthly sleep
Dampens my dreams to tears
rest well my friend,
for I have remained with you,
throughout these many years.
Ron Aug 2020
If you see me led,
With old hand tethered,
to a mangy one-eyed mutt.
Dare you not feel shame for me,
Yet still I retain the dedication of one.
Ron Aug 2020
whose face in the wind,
and the falling of the leaves,
to curse the ancient rain
drifting long in alien seas
save now that breath
for a future in motion
a short sentence is best
when crossing wide oceans
Ron Aug 2020
He asked her for a short cut,
she showed him the way.
He asked her for some water,
She drew for him a shower.
He thanked her for such kindness,
She returned him her smile.
All night she then sighed
scarlet cries like flowers.
Her longing unrequited
In the morning’s quiet hour
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