R L Kilgore

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Jul 29
Two Worlds
icon1 Ron | icon2 Opinion, Poems, poetry about age | icon4 July 29, 2009 @ 5:00 pm| icon3No Comments »

 A pleasant seat of a sidewalk cafe
Over mocha coffee and a crème brulee
Amidst genteel ladies and white tablecloths
And, unobstructed, a view across
An elm studded park with closely mown grass
Nestled between urban concrete and glass -
Serenity in a turbulent sea.
Why then would young mothers draw their children near,
Not for cuddling but with presence of fear?

He shuffled up the walk with seemingly no mind
Of those around who avoided a sign
That would draw his attention and likely request
For money. (In order to lessen the chance,
Avoiding eye contact works the best).
   

    The Downtown Salvation Mission Retreat
    Serves those of his ilk just down the street.
    By day their throngs disperse like flies
    In summer heat to shadows and shade
    And reappear as evening tides
    Pull them as cattle to trough,
    Obliged to give their souls in trade
    With prayer for another meal.

Between stocking cap and jacket collar
His face stained brown from dirt on dirt
And deep lined crevices dark from squalor
Gouged by wind and cold,
He fumbled at his pocket for a lone cigarette,
Fingers shaking with the paper matchbook,
Searching which end to strike,
Oblivious to the time he took -
A three minute ordeal for a ten second task.
And quivering lips sunken from too few teeth
Sucked as discreetly as obvious would allow
From a brown paper bag, the poor man’s flask.
   

     Judge him and judge him harshly,
    Whatever loves he might have known
    Lie squandered in another life
    Through no fault but his own,
    And dread from fear of tomorrow
    And sorrow over times long now gone
    Extend no further than this hour.

He paused, unaware the blight he posed
obstructing the tranquil view of those
who sipped mocha coffee over white tablecloths
and spoke of coming weather
          

                                      rlkilgore@chartertn.net    

 

 

 

 

 

                                           rlkilgore

rlkilgore@chartertn.net

Jul 24

They say love is sweeter

The second time around,

But that can’t be, you see.

Cause my ex-wife’s husband now knows why

He’s not a happier man than I.

                            rlkilgore

 

 

 

Jul 23
Ah, the satisfaction,
The gratifying pleasure
And delectable sport
Of disabusing, proving
Superiority of knowledge
Over the opponent -
A friend, acquaintance, bumbling
Dunce, avowed enemy,
Nemesis, no matter.
Ah, the satisfaction.

How dare the suffered fool
Assume the elitist’s pose
To judge my intent,
Presume my ignorance,
Disabuse a deft
Thought, slip of the tongue,
Momentary lapse
Of lucidity.
A ruse I’ll not forget
Pompous, arrogant fool.

                      rlkilgore

rlkilgore@chartertn.net 

Jul 23
The Storm of Galveston
icon1 Ron | icon2 Poems, religion | icon4 July 23, 2009 @ 10:15 pm| icon3No Comments »

We hear of the arsonist,
A fireman who sets the fires
And then is on the scene to be the hero.
We hear of the hospital orderly
Who alters the patient’s fluids
To create an emergency,
A cardiac arrest, so he can resusitate
And gain the accolades bestowed.
We hear of the merciless storm,
The Hand of God personified,
Tearing asunder lives of those
Who, then in misery, prayerfully
Beseech their lives be restored.

                          rlkilgore

rlkilgore@chartertn.net
Jul 9
To Toressa
icon1 Ron | icon2 love poetry, personal poetry, Poems | icon4 July 9, 2009 @ 9:51 pm| icon3No Comments »

Was ever a man more enticed
Or held so closely bound,
With no shackles evident
Or prison walls around?
Could ropes be drawn less securely,
And no attempt of a heart to flee?
And could a bird, born to fly
Free of any remand,
Find more desire but to remain
In your open hand?

                rlkilgore

 

rlkilgore@chartertn.net

Jul 9
Sleep, My Love
icon1 Ron | icon2 eulogy, love poetry, Poems | icon4 July 9, 2009 @ 9:47 pm| icon3No Comments »

 (for one who held his Love’s hand
          as she passed away)

Sleep, my Dear – Sleep in merited peace,
Your burden freed of infirmity’s heavy cloak.
This moment entered opens a door revealing
What just prior was not ours to evoke.

Sleep, my Love – Sleep, and I shall stand
The watch, a hallowed vigil your sacred shrine.
In this consecrated slumber lies
Your comfort and in your comfort I find mine.

                                          rlkilgore

rlkilgore@chartertn.net

Jul 4
Welcome T0 My Blog
icon1 Ron | icon2 Poems | icon4 July 4, 2009 @ 4:34 pm| icon3No Comments »

Party Time

Ballroom or Bar Room, no matter
Ballroom or Bar Room, no matter

When you think you are impressing someone you are usually having         

    the opposite effect.  When you impress someone favorably,

    if you ever do, it’s when you are unaware of being watched.

 

                                                             rlkilgore

 

The music you hear is from songs I have written (which no one wants to sing).

 

 

Comment to:     rloykilgore@gmail.com

 

 

Jul 2
Shades of Gray
icon1 Ron | icon2 nature poetry, personal poetry, Poems | icon4 July 2, 2009 @ 11:33 pm| icon3No Comments »

Standing by the water’s edge, I think
Of her and cinch my collar close to void
The chilling breeze.  She said ………..

    Mist, so fine it fails to fall but taunts
    My face to let me know it’s in the air,
    Veils the distant shore, a quarter mile
    Away or more, while ripples lap beneath
    My feet and roar in miniature relief.

                    …………..I had always
To be right, everything was black
And white.  I never thought myself that way.
I wonder why ………….

    Darkened trees on the opposite side present
    A belt separating skirt from blouse,
    Preventing water from touching clouds ashen
    In a canopy that folds low overhead.
    I never knew so many shades of gray.

          ………….. I was oblivious to see
That which now she finds repugnant in me.
Yesterday I felt so confident in myself.

                                    rlkilgore

 

 

rlkilgore@chartertn.net