Best Ronald Poems

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...

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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...

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President Ronald Reagan
Actor extraordinary, charismatic personality
Lover of family and horses
Alzheimer's victim...

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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...

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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....

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LETTER to RON" Diary Notes : Lament at Dawn - A Year Ago Yet Now No Change "
Reviewed by Ronald Hull
8/19/2018

"Quite a lament! The state of Paris at dawn. Just the thought of sewage seeping down through the walls gives me the willies. Yes, Paris...

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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...

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! How I remember you

filled with youth, mischief and lust

We shared wicked, sinful days;

And, (Oh God!) those nights!...

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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....

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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...

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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...

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 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...

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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...

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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...

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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...

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