Sunday, January 9, 2011

I am aspiring to become established as a poet and a short story writer. I have written 100 books of poetry over the past several years and 17 novels: I have been submitting my work for the past year and a half. I am thrilled by acceptance. I am always looking for an audience. I have published 406 poems, 231 short stories, and 59 pieces of art in over 107 periodicals, books and anthologies. I have been published in The Storyteller, Ceremony, Write On!!! (Poetry Magazette), Freshly Baked Fiction and Necrology Shorts. Also I recently won the People’s Choice Award for poetry In The Storyteller for a poem titled Secret Sash. I have been accepted in England, Australia, Canada and Thailand. I love to write and offer an experience to the reader. I am a member of The American Poet’s Society as well as The Isles Poetry Association. I hope you enjoy my work. (My art is viewable at face book,
*Website-SwampLit (
* Website-Shadows at Night-Tide (

Ron Koppelberger

Ranks of Shadow

A sequence of dares and solitary accent,

Exact in exile and constraint, in aisles and

Beguiling judgments of what twilight whispers,

Shelter in the remains and turn of revolutionary

Trapping and wrapped wear, a touch of virgin

Despair in the substance of love, laying views of distant

Tide and aching common ranks of shadow.

By the Birth of Roosters

Emerging in hesitant expectation of sunshine and dawn’s

Cool mist, guided by the birth of Roosters’ and babies

In real realms of consciousness and loving embrace,

By destiny and amber tuft, by the allowance of cries in nascent

Brilliance, the shape of betrothal unto the day, unto the will

Of laughter and barnyard bassinets.

In the Midst of Chaos

Billowing fires in Babylon and the affection of beasts

Disarrayed in armies of vaunted confession, allayed

By the loyal last and the pillars of staid quarrel,

A secret sect in vestured distinctions,

By the angels’ of honor and what stays alive

In the midst of chaos and


Dreams of Ash

Luscious ages of heat and wandering

Ceremony, a breach in the seams of clean

Wash and the sterile darkness’s borne of

Amber hued desire, of cold syrup, of larks

In decay and eyes birthed scarlet, tempered

By the wishes of another, the palace of grins

And ghouls, of distress and dreams of ash.

Roses and Thorns

Crying in wretched woes of miserable contention,

For the last of distant horizons

In reward, for the sylvan express in shadow and

Wonting bells of iron gild, by towers of desire, tall, told

In stories of pretty instinct and rhy whiskey

Love, discreetly allayed by

Pilgrimages through the realms of roses and thorns.

Ron Koppelberger

chaos is   chaos is currency in these troubled times   chaos is two star-crossed lovers mainlining the future   chaos is...