Best Ronald Poems


Premium Member Ronald Likes a Nice Bit of Rump

A politician called Ronald Dump
Loves to pat pretty girls on the rump
At a peachy pert tush
All his brains turn to mush
His wife floors him – you should see the lump!

Fictional write for fun

7th June 2016
Categories: ronald, body, humorous, lust, political,
Form: Limerick

President Ronald Reagan

President Ronald Reagan
Actor extraordinary, charismatic personality
Lover of family and horses
Alzheimer's victim
Categories: ronald, dedication
Form: Clerihew

Ronald Rump

repugnant racist republican reviled - rickettsia re:itch ruler. 
rapaciously ravaged revered reverential rubric. 
radical ruthless renegade rapidly riotously rips rigged ramparts. 
refrains retaining remnant redolent regal, resplendent rafters.
riches rudely rupture rooted rectified rights.
ruckus ricochets revenant reign. 
ratified rattlebrained rules roil reductionism.
rumbustious rapscallions rollick; render ruinous ramifications.
rusty razor razing revenge rents reprisal.
rabid rectal rictus rotten rebrands re-calibrate.
rambunctious revolutionaries rejoice.
ruffians ride roughshod routing reigning royalty.
reiterate revetting robust recidivist rationality.
ride Rolls Royce relentlessly rendering rock ribbing. 
riffraff raconteur raise reactionary response.
revisit rancorous restrictive redlined realigned rightward rivets. 
robocop ridiculously rubber-stamped reorganization.
recalcitrant reactors release rapture.
rash Russian roulette reconnaissance raconteurs rack rubles.
red room reflects republican RNA.
rap risible rheumy ratiocinated rug-rats revoke righteous refulgent repertory.
rapier robed robbers ransack reliquary resounding retaliation. 
retaliatory redcoat regnum reformation remembered.
Rudy robotically recoiling rapprochement 
raison d'être rosily revered rifled relics raffled.
rookie raves ripe rackful rubenesque reliably ranked.
refulgent rotundity requisite requirement re: reappointment.
road-tested, roadworthy redeem reapportion routed role.
reprehensible reassignment rapidly recognizes response. 
rife rampage removes respectability - respect.
responsible roused restitution refuted. 
risky resultant reconnoitering runaway railroad reverberates rivalry.
reflexive ramrod reaction reconfirms redoubling ridding revitalization. 
reconfiguration realpolitik reinstates repudiation 
rebooting Roosevelt regime reconsidered.
requisition requires resilient reseeding republic.
regrettable riley roars remorseless ribbing. 
rare recount restoring recondite renown reprobate Rapunzel. 
Republican representatives rejoice reclaiming reins 
registering retarded romantic remains
re: Rastafarian revered reliquary rests!
Categories: ronald, allusion, analogy, confusion, crazy,
Form: Alliteration

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Ronald Reagan: So Long Cowboy

Fold your tent now
Cowboy, the prairie sunset has come
Pull the hat low
Over the silent brow, let the horse go home
Without saddle,
It's round up time for you, the trail is done.
Bit and bridle;
O let it go free, and feel the weightless
World runs with it,
Put the branding iron down, blow out the sun;
The mind's habit
Shutting out the endless tedium and stress
Now can reclaim
The dignity that future-centered men
Denied; the fame
Past-centered men recalled and softly blend
With their own hopes;
And none but the dead ever realized.
Roll up the ropes
The cowboy no more rides, or seek the prize.
Rustlers die fast
Cowboys live long, lariat looping ferile glory;
Rodeo past,
The poled hat and belt tell all the final story.
Categories: ronald, death, tribute, boy,
Form: Verse

Ronald

Ronald was a young man so bold,
his father McDonald will mold.
He had bright red hair,
and french fries to share,
and that’s how the story was told.
Categories: ronald, food,
Form: Limerick

Diary of Desires By Ronald S Porter

Memory of hot summer nights
sweat and sweetness
naked flesh dripping
streets sounds from open window
passion cracked like a whip
and we...
danced to a different beating
of two hearts set afire
and, it was cool

first time we danced
we found....
matching rhythms
we moved across a dance floor
as if we were
one spirit in two bodies
or one body
with two congruent minds

and later,in the room
at the top of the stairs
on a gifted brass bed,
just as on the dance floor
we moved together
as if  my flow was the only
one you'd known
and your body was my own
and sweet jazz music
played on the radio
while you made love to me
as if you were the one who wrote
the diary of my desires
© Ron Porter  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: ronald, nostalgia, passion, romance, dance,
Form: Free verse


Fruit Cocktail: From the San Diego Suite By Ronald S Porter

Apricot nectar, I licked from her lips,
suckled the dew like honey
from melon ripe breast
and in time did savor
the heady heavenly flavor
of passion's fruit in all the rest
and night birds
beyond the window

...sang a new song.
© Ron Porter  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: ronald, nostalgia, passion, romance,
Form: Free verse

Wicked, Sinful By Ronald S Porter

! How I remember you

filled with youth, mischief and lust

We shared wicked, sinful days;

And, (Oh God!) those nights!
© Ron Porter  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: ronald, love, nostalgia, passion, romance,
Form: Dodoitsu

A Bit of Whimsy By Ronald S Porter

Here in the land of blind dogs and
screeching pigs, I lay me down to rest.
Where predators prowl and scavengers growl,
We snuggle like baby carrion fowl
in a squalid, rotting, rancid, reeking nest.

Where the death-stench and fat flies
fill greenish yellow bruised sad skies
and, necrophilia is a spectator sport;
We contendly feast on fresh slaughter beast
then wrapped in entrails, we dance and cavort.

Oh lovely stink! Oh delightful decay!
Where air is vile and water is gritty,
we make meery sport with mangled dead
while you cower, at night, in your bed
putting your hope in the walls of your city.

Out here we fantasize your horrified eyes
and agonized cries, as we watch neath the moon.
Lazy and fattened; would your flesh be sweet?
Oh how we could feast on your blood and meat.
We're planning to come visit your city real soon.

I'd wager, the children are quite tender.
© Ron Porter  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: ronald, death, fantasy, fear,
Form: Rhyme

Quench This Fire, a Retourne By Ronald S Porter

Hold me like you'll never let go;
love me, each time, as if the first.
Shake me and quake me, slake my thirst
Quench this fire-My desire.

Love me each time, as if the first;
relearn my flesh, again, anew.
Discover new ways to excite me;
uncover passion's mystery.

Shake me and quake me; slake my thirst.
Give me nectar; let me drink deep-
'til I am filled and satisfied.
I promise I will fill you too.

Quench this fire-My desire;
leave me exhausted, limp, and drained.
Then renew urge, with tender tease.
'til urgency arouse once more!
© Ron Porter  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: ronald, passion, me, me,
Form: Romanticism

Sweet Coquette, a Decastitch By Ronald S Porter

 Oh dear delight! My sweet coquette.
Enticing smiles; your glance flirtatious
rouses in me, dispositions salacious.
Sometimes my fret- sometimes my pet;
oh so tantalizing the way you tease
transform blase' to beguiling mystery
which fires my  fervor with pleasing ease.
Comely countenance; aspect gracious
All ardorous attentions you do invite;
Oh sweet coquette! My dear delight.
© Ron Porter  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: ronald, passion, romance, sweet, sweet,
Form:

Sweating Music, By Ronald S Porter

the music is sweating in the room
strings and reeds bump and grind
slow-dragging dancers entwine
oh the fruit is ripe upon the vine
and the wine of love and laughter
a mingled vintage- joy and tears
now are drunk down to the dregs
then another round is poured

urgency prowls the crowd's periphery
everybody waiting for... nobody knows
but we'll pitch a fit when it gets here
some might even shed some clothes

desire is straining in the room
lust sniffs around like an old hound
trying to catch the scent, 
purposed to pick up the trail
hunting money, hunting magic
hunting comfort, hunting tail
sweaty music sound still coming down

where are soft arms that hold tight
warm lips to lie that it's all right?
night turns like a page in a book
the guitar player throws out a hook
and sweating music command us look
for when the morning shall come
© Ron Porter  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: ronald, black african american, music,
Form: Lyric

Quietly Insane By Ronald S Porter

there are no secrets in the house of pain
in the citadel of death there is no fear.
At the foot of the mighty mountain
on the outskirts of madness, she
reclines on a divan, like a queen;
the Lady of Devastation and Entropy.
Dressed in a glorious gown of regal red
that to human eyes appears as emerald green
she sips black coffee and nibbles on dark
chocolate and smokes a slender cigarette.
With each sip, each bite, each puff
a thounsand worlds die amidst silent screams.
... She smiles
© Ron Porter  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: ronald, death, imagination,
Form: Blank verse

Hold On To the Best, Forget the Rest By Ronald S Porter

Should auld acquaintance be forgiven?
Seek not dear darling, to be shriven.
With all the sweet torments of love
you once visited on my heart, the same
measure for meaure did I, on you, employ.
Call to mend; healing now the only joy.


The rapture, ripe, that we once shared,
I know (and my hope is that you do too)
with all we were, we truly cared.
The love we gave: me to you; you to me
I will always hold treasured, in memory.
Keep the best, forgive and forget
we'll take a cup of kindness yet...
© Ron Porter  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: ronald, forgiveness, holiday, hope, introspection,
Form: Rhyme

New Shoes By Ronald S Porter

Lady sits and sings the blues.

Daddy's got some brand new shoes.

Get your best dress baby, do your hair,

lets go out walking everywhere.

The lights and noise, just might chase

your case of blues away.

And, I get to put these new kicks on display.

Lets strut our stuff like we used to would,

no place to go, no money to spend,

but dog-gone, baby! We'll sure look good!
© Ron Porter  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: ronald, girlfriend-boyfriend, nostalgia,
Form: Rhyme
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