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For You

Tonight I woke
just to watch you sleep
...... and
to watch you dream....
hand held out
reaching for mine
knowing I would feed it my soul
because I know inside you won’t hurt
or bruise it.....
because you care
and because you transcend
those that you walk among
in my eyes.....

and even while you sleep
you carry yourself with grace
and deserve the respect
which I will forever give to you.....
and you wear my love well
for you are
the woman I truly love.

 
...from Search For Substance
Copyright © Ronn Allen 2002. All rights reserved.
Our Names

I sprayed our names
           5ive to 7even Feet High
        Brilliant with kick ass colors
    Wild loose letters
and a funky, shouting exclamation point!

It stains the ashen wall
  Next to the money machine -
So as the metallic teller counts out twenties…..

$20, $40, $60, $80

….. our names scream out framed in a
                         loud, red, obnoxious heart.

   

...from Search For Substance
Copyright © Ronn Allen 2002. All rights reserved.
 
When a Spider is a Comma

In mid conversation,
                    with lips ablaze,
my eyes move from the deepness
                    of her expression,
over her shoulders and past
                    the redness of her hair,
across the room filled with
                    beer bottles and compact discs,
through a sea of ash trays and chairs
                    with upturned cushions,
to a virgin white wall,
                    now defaced by the presence
of a big, black spider.

My words halt, focused
                     on the proud creature,
poised and web ready,
                     full of purpose.

My eyes drop the diversion,
                     back across the room
with a hard wood floor,
                     dotted with bottle caps,
a metallic confetti of sorts,
                     up her tiny frame,
bent at the hips in that sexy
                     way she wears herself,
back up to her face,
                     to continue our eye contact,
to continue my story.
 

...from Search For Substance
Copyright © Ronn Allen 2002. All rights reserved.
Love Struggles

Love struggles for breath
In rented rooms filled with vacant hearts,
In the back seats of cars,
Inside those who walk the street and talk to themselves…..

And love tries to survive,
Pointlessly,
Inside bars filled with people to love
or
are they just trophies of instant gratification…..

Love becomes confused
With lipstick and heels, candle light seductions,
Tight figures, the addictive stare of a stranger,
Metallic eye shadows,
Fashion…..

…..confused with the fear of loneliness at last call.
 

 ...from A Town Called Riverton
Copyright © Ronn Allen 2000. All rights reserved.
    
Are We In The Midst?

There is a new language,
and it's not evil,
though it is filled with misspellings,
dashes have become
punctuation to separate thoughts -

It is an instant communication between lovers
hundreds of miles apart, awkward but heartfelt -
laced with symbols and abbreviations -

My English has suffered -
or has it? -

Laptops have replaced balconies -
soliloquies are spoken through emails
and chat windows -

.....AND WE YELL OUT OUR ANGER WITH
OUR CAPS LOCKED -

There is true beauty in the electronic world -
true beauty in millions confessing secrets through
a computer -
true beauty when she types "LOL" -
meaning she's laughing again -
and everything is fine with her now :-)
 

 ...from A Town Called Riverton
Copyright © Ronn Allen 2000. All rights reserved.
Lemonade Stand

The sky stained with sun,
Below is an oasis.
A card table dressed
With an old beach towel
To add ambiance.

This stand
Sells lemonade.
Refreshing lemonade,
Made the old fashioned way.

This stand
Has location, location, location.
Sidewalk rooted with curb side charm,
It attracts the parched.

This stand,
Is not listed on Wall Street
Or NASDAQ.
It is not considered an indicator
To predict future trends.

This stand
Does not track P&L's,
Or make their quarterly earnings public.
The hand written sign
"Fresh Lemonade"
is it's only advertising vehicle.

This stand,
Run by wide eyed, pig tailed girls,
Armed with braced smiles
and addictive giggles.

These girls have moxie.

This stand
Has no known internal strife,
Or a water cooler to gossip around.
Office politics do not nest here.
These little squeezers are focused,
Goal crushers,
And earn every dime slipped into
Their flowered, paper Dixie cup.
 

 ...from A Town Called Riverton
Copyright © Ronn Allen 2000. All rights reserved.
  

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