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The Web Poetry Corner

Ron Kinard


Franklin, GA, US

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Shark Poem


Ron Kinard

we are not too friendly
we do not have a friend
people often skin us
making clothing, what a trend

we don not need a dentist
all our teeth all grow back
we donít go grocery shopping
we can not carry a sack

most of us are predators
hunting for our food
once I even ate
a gnarly surfing dude

some of us are small
you can tell us by our tail
some of us are huge
weíre bigger than a whale

the small ones eat little shrimp
the big ones eats tons of algae
one thing about it, the best thing is
that all our meals are free

people think weíre scary
weíre the scavengers of the sea
by chance, you happen to see us
kindly, let us be

we never go to sleep
weíre always on the run
you wonder why weíre ill
we never have any fun

swimming around continuously
eating what I see
Iím the meanest fish
ahí swimming in the sea

Soulmates V


Ron Kinard

each night
my heart calls out
reaching for you, searching for you
wondering, where you are
you are the one, the only one
I dream about
living and breathing each moment
thinking of you, of only you

you are the one, the only one
I want to spend the rest of my life with
to talk with, to walk with
to share my dreams and my goals with
to hurdle the obstacles of life with
to be with, until the day I die

I dream of us walking and talking
sharing the sunsets, sharing conversation
going to sleep in each others arms
waking together to a new sunrise
snuggling close and enjoying the security
that we can only give one another

I wonít give up, I canít give up
I know you are there, somewhere
one day we will become acquainted
falling in love the minute our eyes meet
holding hands and looking, longingly
into the depths of each others soul
no words will pass, only a smile weíll share
then weíll both know that it was meant to be
soulmates, through eternity

rising to a new day
alone, bewildered
the essence of you, lingers
my pillow, damp from the tears
my heart, empty and hollow
for as I realize
youíre in my heart, but not my life
you are still, just a dream



Ron Kinard

people grinning
the world is spinning
time that passes
around and bent
off and went
tangent thoughts

hurried lives
troubled wives
hectic lifestyles
in a room
not yet a tomb
here my mind lies

fading fast
will nothing last
is it an
home alone
no one to phone
creeping in

no one around
not hearing a sound
will I live or
what a scare
no one there
just break down and

alone in a room
a quiet tomb
silent tear
no more fear
taking one last

Me, Critique


Ron Kinard

why do you write the words
stating how you feel
asking me, a simple man
to critique, whatís the deal

I donít write much poetry
I like to draw on walls
or scribble out a limerick
in the bathroom stalls

how can I critique a poem
and donít know how to write
do you think itís fair
tell me, am I right

I read the words of poets
amazed, in every way
seeing how they rhyme
with rhythm, they do play

displaying such prowess
confidence of a King
oh, these mighty poets
the sonnets, we do sing

making poems of triplets
playing with their prose
to them itís just as easy
as staring down their nose

couplets, with such power
Haiku with a soul
writing words of wisdom
each one with a goal

valid are these poets
educated, say the least
knowing all the shortcuts
taming the inner beast

if I were to try to write
a poem, such as this
certainly Iíd goof up
the target, I would miss

anyway, Iím leaving
with my crayon in hand
to try and write a poem
to post in voices land

I Love You, but...


Ron Kinard

baby girl, you are my world
you mean so much to me
the more I am around you
the more I want to see

each day, waking beside you
alone, together each night
snuggling up, so close
you know, it feels just right

walking through this life
together, hand in hand
making the other one happy
without a care or demand

you know, I think the world of you
without you, I cease to live
every day that follows
my heart to you, I give

one thing I have to tell you
I hate to criticize
thereís something that youíre doing
something I despise

your cooking is a treat
please donít get me wrong
something that youíre making
is coming on, too strong

you know it isnít your chicken
I could eat it every day
I donít want to hurt you
please, listen what I say

it isnít the way you cook
dress or comb your hair
itís really nothing bad
should I tell you, do I dare

I hope you have a laugh
itís really not that bad
I hope you find this silly
oh please, donít be mad

I hope you think itís funny
itís Mr. Coffee maker deluxe
you know I really love you
but your tea, it really sucks