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Best Poems Written by Herb Alyètte

Below are the all-time best Herb Alyètte poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Herb Alyètte Poem

The Preacher Man

His narrow eyes, misguided lies
Misguide his narrow plan,
To cleanse the world from demons, he
Was called The Preacher Man.

“I see no proof, I hear no truth!
Your science is a sin!
You’ll burn in hell if you rebel
And let the Devil win!”

The Preacher Man then took a stand
To convert the sinners by the hand
“You’ll see the Lord you’ll praise the Lord!
You’ll follow blindly Christ the Lord!”
The more he chased, the more they ran
From him, The Preacher Man.

Leviticus was hideous
To the innocent righteous folk
“The fags all shalt be stoned to death!” (Lev 20:13)
The terror he provoked. 

His crucifix read “Six six six”
The people use to claim
He’d always clutch on to a crutch
To get him through his pain

His acid tongue and Sabbath stung
With nails through his hands he hung
“My sacrifice is worth the price,
For council in the Lord’s advice!”
His rapture soon began
That beast, The Preacher Man.

His leather book of horror shook
The children to their knees
“Dash the babies against the rocks (Psalm 137:9)
And hang them from the trees!” (Joshua 10:26)

From town to town he went around
Proclaiming he could heal
“The pain of grace upon your face!”
(His wallet was concealed.)

So lock your doors and hide what’s yours
Protect your children from the w----
“I’m commin’ for you, I’m gunnin’ for you!
I’ll say that I’ve been pray’n for you!”
His ministry infests the land
He’s called The Preacher Man.

Details | Herb Alyètte Poem

A Turtle's Throne

Standing in a foreign nation, fragrance from a fresh cremation
Lost and long forgotten by the beasts that roamed my home
Nights are dark and gloomy but the tundra’s so damn roomy 
Here is where I want to be so leave me standing here alone
Here I stand a man with quill in hand is all I own
That, my crown and throne

Walking on the sandy beaches, there I saw the strangest creatures 
Living in a unison together on their own
Then behind the bushy myrtle, hid the cowardly old turtle
“Don’t be hiding there old turtle, don’t be hiding all alone!”
But the turtle stayed behind the bush beneath a stone
This, he calls his throne

Night defeats the sunlights laughter once the mockingbirds cry after
Day has set so I can be the king of lands I roam
Darkness gives me all the cover, more than I could need a lover
Here is where I want to be so leave me here alone
Darkness is my friend so I can call this land my home
Here, I sit on my throne

Moonlight let the turtle scurry athwart on the beach to hurry
Into deep blue seas where he is free to swim atoned
Creatures from the deep blue ocean bow down to their king’s devotion
When the sun arose he then recoiled back in his dome
“Pity you old turtle” I said, “hiding there alone.”
That, you call a throne?

Days long gone that I remember, Spring-time joy in mid-November
Hiding in and oak tree from the creatures of my home
Now my kingdom bows before me no one stares or dares ignore me
Here I stand a king, adore me, lord of all I own
Pity all I own is barren, barren to the bone
At least, I have my throne

Then one starry twilight dreaming, where I stood there pride redeeming
Came along the turtle beaming till he saw my throne
In a flash, his neck retreated in his shell and self conceited
“Don’t be shy and self defeated!” Said I, in stern tone.
“Stick your neck out, coward, or you’ll end up all alone!”
Returning to his throne
Returning to my throne

When I woke in shock and horrid, scaly felt my morphed new forehead 
Overwhelming dread and torrid shook my body to the bone
There I was a transformed turtle hiding there beneath the myrtle
All along I was the turtle standing there alone
Horrified of all the creatures rounding my new home
My shell that I had grown
A self-made, feeble throne

Details | Herb Alyètte Poem

Like a Viper In Lamb's Clothing

He came a-lurking through the grass to lie in wait to strike.
While shepherds round their sheep in line, both young and old alike.
“I’ll eat you boy, I’ll eat you whole, your wool will be my mane,”
“And then I’ll move among your flock” the Viper said in vein.

With one swift smooth and deadly strike, the Viper took his prey,
A sacrificial lamb to start the debt that they will pay.
With blood now oozing from his fangs he wraps himself in fleece
And moves among the flock to slowly infiltrate the peace.

“For one-by-one they’ll all fall down, I’ll send them straight to hell,”
“Your Shepherd he can’t save you now! So say your last farewell!”
So night-by-night the Viper struck until the flock was gone.
The blood flowed on and on and on and curdled in the dawn.

The moral of the story is ‘don’t be a sheep at all.’
Or else the Viper just may strike and take your skin and all.

Details | Herb Alyètte Poem

Knights of Rationalism

We’re coming out of the caves
We’re moving into the Lime Light
It’s now ‘cause the time’s right
The bold and the brave
We’re here to tear down the old
We’re moving into the future
The New better suit ya
The brave and the bold

The age of Reason’s before us
There’s no more time to abhor us
Zealots, let go of your fear, the age of Reason is here

We’re rebuilding broken down schools
We’re building real education
Across every last nation
Your tyranny your rules
We’re climbing out of the dark
Out from your stories and fables
Now we’re turning the tables
Our freedom our ark

The age of Reason’s before us
There’s no more time to abhor us
Zealots, let go of your fear, the age of Reason is here

It’s time to breathe the fresh air
It’s time for no more pollution
Now we have the solution-
Drop delusion and prayer
It’s time to walk in the light
It’s time to love all the science
Show them all your defiance
You’re the Rationalist’s Knight

The age of Reason’s before us
There’s no more time to abhor us
Zealots, let go of your fear, the age of Reason is here

The age of freedom and wonder
And the church going under
So let go of your fear
The age of Reason is here

Details | Herb Alyètte Poem

Florence Nightingale

Come help me Florence Nightingale
I need your healing hands
I need your guiding lamp my lady
Meet my one demand
The people, oh they told me
That I’ll never be the man
If I don’t bow down to their decree
Then “Cursed by God, I am!”

Come be my saviour, Nightingale
To you I shall implore
There’s a righteous group of Christian Soldiers
Lurching on the floor
So help me if you find me
Locked behind the cellar door
And there I’ll rest like Edgar’s Raven
There, forever more

So wherefor art thou Nightingale?
If quoting Will I must
My visions of you on a steed
With lamp in hand I trust
And golden lace and silver trace
And diamond jewels incrust
But visions never saved a soul
For souls are all but rust

For now the feathered Nightingale
Can sing for me a song
The sweetest bird I ever heard
Has been here all along
For the Lady with the Lamp and healing hands 
Could do no wrong
But I know that in my mind she stays
And that’s where she belongs

Still I whisper, dear Florence
Sing for me a song...

Details | Herb Alyètte Poem

Autumnland

Ye ancient land O’ bonnie hue
A bonnie haze on lochs of black
Divide the colour, take me back
To wash my eyes with Fall, imbue
The highlands with a McCulloch hand
Take me back to Autumnland

Softly, softly toes on glens
I trod the braes the peaceful host
The quiescent land of Wallace’s ghost
Once horror valleys shroud in the ben
A witness to yon fallen clans
Take me back to Autumnland

A rugged Skye of misty chill
A blanket cloud a calming bourne
From the mystic sea in gloam and morn
To a hazel lass in tartan twill
Proverbially by the shore she stands
Oh take me back to Autumnland

Oh let me freely stray the moors
Wind the strath of Gaelic roams
Before the low road takes me home
Still and steep in treasured lore
Aye take me back to Autumnland
Take me back to Scotland

Details | Herb Alyètte Poem

With Cold, Dead Hands

Officer, I’m innocent
Of what I am accused
I didn’t kill The Preacher Man
With what you say I used

He’s lying in a pool of blood
On the cold chapel floor
And here you stand, you killed the man
With cold, dead hands

No sir, I did no such thing
I never touched the man
I didn’t kill the preacher
With my cold, dead hands

You have the right to say not a single word
Until your judgement cometh
We’ll hang you by the neck, but for
Your cold, dead hands

I wave that right, these hands are pure
As honest as I stand
I never killed that preacher
With my cold, dead hands

Of course you did, you have a grudge!
For this you’ll go to hell!
You’ll got to hell, ‘cause you rebelled
You’ll spend your days in Satan’s cell!
I know you killed the preacher
With your cold, dead hands! 

You really think that I’m afraid?
These hands are as warm as a gun!
What I’ve begun, won’t be undone
The fight for Reason will soon be won
I didn’t kill the preacher with my cold, dead hands...
I shot him with intent
Between his cold, dead eyes

Details | Herb Alyètte Poem

There Was a Poor Guy

There was a poor guy named Mitch
Who thought "With this pitch I'll get rich!"
Then his stocks were in strife, 
So he ended his life,
That deceased and poor guy named Mitch.

Details | Herb Alyètte Poem

Diamonds From the Moon

Of joyous jewels, your heart fulfill
How lavish a gift of such an ore
The moment surprize has sent a chill
Through veins a newly opened door
To platters handed evermore
And diamonds fed on silver spoon
Your grace has come from heaven’s chore
Me?  I’ll source my diamonds from the moon

Said: take the glad and easy pill
There’s so much more you’d best ignore
For knowledge may have quelled the thrill
That jewels are scattered on the floor
Of earth’s bedrock if you’d explore
Before the hands of men had hewn
The rocks you preciously adore
I’ll source my diamond from the moon

There’s pride in diamond polisher’s skill
To craft your gem without a flaw
The hands that play a craftsman’s trill
Between your hand and earths deep core
And now you ask for even more
For only platters make you swoon
Grace for grace you’re looking for
I’ll source my diamonds from the moon

What use were diamonds that you wore?
When adorned on you at gladdest noon
Those granted diamonds, I abhor
I’ll source my diamonds from the moon

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Life

Awake
bright, colourful
searching, sensing, feeling
knowledge, discovery, ignorance, fate
falling, gnashing, condemning
dark, horrific
Asleep