I once had a friend named Kishore,
Who during sleep always did snore;
One day he went for camping,
He staged his feat while sleeping,
Eversince, friends called him a bore.
I woke up 6, no one messaged me
No expectations from friends sets me free
No keeping up on social media
No chance of catching clyamidia
No one to meet out
No need to talk and shout
I don’t need to be seen
I like my quiet routine
I don’t need to be heard
Quiet time is what’s preferred
I don’t need people to let me down
I’m fine even when I frown
I don’t need people talking behind my back
I’d rather have a quiet life and take no flack
I don’t need to feel needed or wanted
Bonded or regarded
I’ll stare at these four walls again
Go out every now and then
My home is my safe space
Where I don’t need decorum or grace
I live a quiet life with those who matter
I’m happy watching the outside world scatter
Once trust is eroded it can’t be replaced
That led me to being misplaced
I keep the cards close to my chest
Carefully choose those in invest
The list is not long
I know where my belongs
At home where I am a bore
Easy to ignore
Young and energetic to the core;
Social order he tried to restore.
Having seen many like him before,
On his face people shut the door,
Thinking that he was such a bore.
Mere preaching people abhor.
Here I am my compatriot
Do not bore me with inanity
Stay in your lane dear friend
And let me stay in mine
For this is the season of anomie
Tempers are high and boiling over
Do not try to teach me good manners
Cause my patience has run out
And I can no longer listen to lies
Spewed from the pit of hell
To justify the position of your paymaster
While our father land
Gradually disappears from
The global map of decency
Patriotism calls and we must obey
Chet wore his plaid pants up to his pencil protector
People ran from the cafeteria when they saw him
He was an incessant talker
Never let anyone else speak
We have all been cornered by him
His prattle is boring; scientific crap
Stuff none of us care about
Quantum physics, montum shizzicks,
We don’t even believe in whatever it is
We are from the Midwest
in a town of two thousand
He may be my cousin, but I am the first to say
Clear out of the way, I have to get out of here
He is an educated idiot
Spewing facts right and left
Over our heads they go, bouncing round the walls
flicking into the furniture like bullets
No one is interested!
We back up as he edges into our personal space
He has no boundaries,
it is all about him
and it is annoying
to those of us who
have a life.
There was a loud knock at the door
Turns out to be a large bore
He plowed his way in
Then was kick in the chin
He was trying to settle a score
I don’t know you anymore
I don’t think of you anymore
You have changed drastically
You don’t smell the same anymore
You now look and act too crazy
Your eyes are bigger and wider than ever
You stopped walking and strolling like a lady
You cracked the window and slammed the door
You no longer speak like an avid reader
You now lie and don’t tell the truth anymore
You don’t know for what to live for
I don’t know you anymore
That’s why I have stayed away very far
Thank God, you’re no longer in my dream
And you and I don’t belong on the same team
I do not know you anymore
You are now a boor, a bore.
Copyright © August, 2023, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.
To whom life has lost its savor
The irrational does favor:
To whom existence is a bore
Breaker of Untouchable Law...
Exactly so with Bored Rhonda,
Ready to hug Anaconda,
Eyes planting to the Romantic,
Self lending in the Pedantic...
I would same say of Hunter:
The swayed by life - Bursting Thunder,
Who a try gives The Ecstatic,
Life helping with The Synthetic...
To whom life has lost its savor.
Daily swallow of Saliva.
He is An Empty Survivor:
Satan's Misguided Conniver.
Take this for what it is worth.
You can change name Trump
to anything that you want if
you want to.
do give a dam break
when we did see the dam break
by Trump worthless snake
when Trump we took on
treats us like we are a pawn
someday will be gone
often we would know
President Trump did not know
why he never knew
many things Trump has done
felon for President run
he would always stun
Trump not who we want
after him we would confront
pulled another stunt
Trump we do deplore
not want around anymore
has been a big bore
No greasy treats from chippie van;
I have my starch now au, gratin
with blasted, deconstructed bass,
petits pois, served; in Demi tasse.
No pint of best down at the pub
I drink with chums now at the club;
Prosecco, or a Chardonay
depending on the time of day.
No picking up the kids from school;
done by Au pair now; as a rule;
she turns up in our four by four
dressed top to toe in old Dior
No visits to the Home Depot
I have ten craftsmen now in tow;
who add things at my beck and call
to my enormous stately hall.
No need to visit family;
They all now want to come see me,
drink all my wine, then use the pool;
methinks they take me for some fool!
There's nothing left that I can buy;
so why, you ask, that big old sigh?
I have new friends, but here's the rub;
I miss my mates down at the pub.
Yes, being rich is such a bore!
"I got shot."
"The cops will help you."
"It was the police that shot me."
Damn Damn Damn Damn Damn.
Ezekiel’s Witness
David J Walker
It was the Spring before Eddie died that Fall
The graveled back road leading to the
end of the airport runway and an audible adventure
In the perfect evening air
no wind
as the light defused
into the equinox sky
we parked his Buick on the leeward side of
the barbed wire fence just beyond the runway
and stood in the chilled and perfectly stilled night air
Where
we became four animated fixtures
beckoning to the coming Continental Airliner
watching it grow nearer
bigger
louder
roaring
rattling our bones in the backwash of
a passenger jet landing on time in
the middle of nowhere
Ezekiel bore witness to the wheel in the wheel
Way up in the middle of the sky
Ezekiel bore witness in the valley of bones
Dry but not lifeless
Eddie left a note naming the boys who would
Bear the pall of his casket
It was the fall of our senior year
Bore
Everything is a chore.
Everything is a bore.
Everything is worth nothing at all
And everything is no more.
You want to get high, but not experience the lows.
You want a life where anything goes.
You want the love, but not the pain.
You want a love who promises to stay.
If you get high, then low’s you will find.
If you want love, then you will lose your mind.
If you want to find your own way,
Then you will end up lost and one day fade away.
(C)2020 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
That flavor
gave her
wings, then faced a wall
Against odds
Opposing time
Blocked, like a limp burden
Face it
Was disappointing
Swallow, now just give up.
First retain
Next clean
it, at once let go.
bore
incessant talk
spouts negativity
dries up energy of others
bore
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