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Ron Cervero Poem
Cattle rolled tracks
Straw sacks
Migrants rode lonely
Lonesome rhythm in sound
Landless –
Copyright © Ron Cervero | Year Posted 2007
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Ron Cervero Poem
Cannibals gather,
for the feast of knowledge,
devouring themselves,
in games of fire & instinct.
In desperation,
lost kings search for the King,
anointed in love.
Shepard’s forked tongues,
breed wounded warriors.
Share me not in the
bounty of bitter roots,
and darkened dreams.
Cleanse me in Lamb’s blood.
Set me free. . .
Copyright © Ron Cervero | Year Posted 2007
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Ron Cervero Poem
Standing at my kitchen window,
silver maples dot my neighbors lawn.
I imagine in a different space and time,
peering through another pane of glass —
in a nursing home seeing birds eat a worm,
or a jail cell watching lives roll by on a train.
Life moves fast; things change
by the click of the clock.
Fire.
Flood.
Death.
Soon, I’ll be looking out one more
window; see my reflection and wonder,
"Who is that strange fellow looking back at me?"
Wrinkles, double chin, gray hair... it scares me to think
about looking out another window,
especially if mine is the only reflection that I see...
Copyright © Ron Cervero | Year Posted 2007
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Ron Cervero Poem
Prison walls are black
Violence and pain inside
Never to be free
Copyright © Ron Cervero | Year Posted 2009
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Ron Cervero Poem
Pensive in death’s silence
my mind’s eye searching
for answers never revealed
by mortal form --
An advanced soul
encouraged by the moon
& the cross unseen
my essence wishing
to crawl in a world
of laymen
Being exceptional
is unacceptable
In a dome of questions
With answers
Not --
Living in a sacred slumber
I awake again to sleep . . .
Copyright © Ron Cervero | Year Posted 2007
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Ron Cervero Poem
Baseball cards
a rubber band,
an 1894 Indian head penny
the aroma of cheap tobacco
filled the bottom of an old cigar box
my box of dreams where no one else could go
when I was grown the box became a distant memory,
I had forgotten the magic of dreams-cynical adulthood
in Hollywood I was sure that I was home
only to find a pink slip and a plane ticket
my depression black as a moonless night
I lived inside this tube of insanity
where nothing made sense
I felt like dying
snorting cocaine
to take away the pain-growing thin
I lost control of my life once again
gazing through teary eyes I saw it...
my box of dreams
when I opened it I found a time capsule
baseball cards
a rubber band
and that 1894 Indian head penny
the box still wafting old tobacco
from 30 years past filled my nostrils
my life was not full of hope anymore
just the agony of knowing
how I wished that I could start over
one more feeble attempt at life
eventually I fell asleep
I had a dream that it was all a terrible mistake
my war wounds
drug addiction all passed away
in my unconscious mind…
when I awoke
I felt a moment of Peace…
of hope
Dedicated to Rhoda Galgiani
Copyright © Ron Cervero | Year Posted 2009
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Ron Cervero Poem
Enlightened by a crumbling society
True knowledge excites the spirit
Projected Disembodiment ~~Soar~~
A thin web of light encases earthen madness--
Dancing with the dead
Ancestors of yesteryear
Tribal rituals—warriors--
Attractions to molten heat & Survival--
have we learned enough this trip to the brain
“O” majestic one?
You have the answer
To unlock what is known & the key
To unlock in between--
Arise !
My child & be who you know you can be—
Many centuries before in a dream-
Copyright © Ron Cervero | Year Posted 2007
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Ron Cervero Poem
Internal children
Condemned for existence
Blazon desires for love--
Purgatory within emotional walls of fury—
Sweet sacred adoration cracks my golden crypt--
Your depth soothes my tormented heart--
Vicariously accepting the worlds bleeding demons—
~Through your fiery eyes EVIL has banished~
Your passion is my kingdom…
Copyright © Ron Cervero | Year Posted 2007
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Ron Cervero Poem
You should be an interior
decorator in an insane asylum
your colors don't match
your words don't match
I see your mouth move
but it drones vanilla
Copyright © Ron Cervero | Year Posted 2009
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Ron Cervero Poem
Concrete bedroom w/ lights & sound.
People gather across wet streets --
The click of a women’s heel --
Many clicks like horses trotting.
Herds of clunking mares fighting
for the prize.
Recognition in being the first horse
across the finish line
The first blue suit from Calvin Klein.
Our country is at war.
Kids are dying!
I know those things but do you know
when the Rolex store closes?
Copyright © Ron Cervero | Year Posted 2007
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