Cretin Poems

Rage and Hatred

Raw, unfiltered anger, it’s all that I know. Constantly
Aggravated by worthless pieces of scum that I struggle
Getting off of my shoes. A nasty glare, a hostile retort,
Everything and anything can, and will, fan the flame.

After the infliction, what happens then? A swelling, a vicious,
Nasty swelling in the throat. A horrible torrent of flames threatens to
Destroy all in its path. Words of pure venom threaten to spew out. 

Harrowing to myself and others, I know this to be so. But, like a sore
Affliction or rash, it never truly dissipates. It only subsides, a dormant ember
That flickers in the inky darkness until some ignorant cretin ignites it again.
Red, red, red! Blinding, sizzling-hot red is all I see. Pure and unfiltered 
Evil that only cares for spreading vile hatred and destruction. Suddenly, the
Devil is fatigued. It sinks into the abyss, dormant. But not for long.

CORPORAL PUNISHMENT AT SCHOOL

On the sport’s field we started to set up  
To play cricket but the ground was hard 
And the stumps would not go in. So my mate  
Used the cricket bat to hammer them home. 

The game’s master was soon upon the scene,
Shouting. “That’s no way to treat the willow,
You cretin.” Sir then snatched the cricket bat
And with hefty sideways swipe cracked my mate
Across the head. The lad collapsed and was 
Shaking violently, lying on the ground.
Then his shaking stopped and he was still.

The whole team went silent and stood and stared.
Then one lad shouted: “He’s dead. You’ve killed him. 
You’ll be hanged for murder”. Sir was silent.
He looked worried. But the victim came round.
He then stood up, a bit wobbly and we 
Carried on with our game of cricket.

To Beef Or Not To Beef

I’m a free spirit rising 
a freethinker dreaming 
Stoically climbing 
the surreal limbo bar,
But I don’t know why 
i’m no bright spark 
for split seconds on fire
lighting up the dark 

Yet we have one 
with burning aspirations 
peers into his own sky 
it goes over most heads
Just like mother earth 
oh that monster 
who never shared a bed 

Unresurrected yet alive 
drones from a hive 
uniformity in his wardrobe 
reminds me of 
a Gucci slave
in fox fur skin
self imposed virgin 

His yellow ribbon tie,
symbolic of no hope 
tourniquet for the throat 
leers around corners
peers over the edge 
paranoid with multifaceted sides
seen through opaque eyes 
equals the root of Pi r squared
be careful not to stare 

Does his hell refuse lepers
can I comment 
without being masked
stop me spreading gossip 
through questions I ask,
Searching for answers 
or setting traps 
they come thick and fast 
But like always 
with many gaps

Cast out of Eden
for the beef he’s eaten 
an iPhone heathen 
Doesn’t know when beaten 
perhaps tofu can sweeten 
the Shakespearian cretin

By
David Kavanagh

Wrongful Arrest

She barged through the doors of the bank with her gun
And shot the security guard just for fun
She fired her gun and yelled “Down on the floor,
I’ve shot me one man, I could shoot a few more!”

One customer, Jenna, said, “Hold up, you cretin,
You half witted loser, it’s jail you’ll be gettin,
You charge in this bank with that soppy old pistol
I think I might kick your ass from here to Bristol.”

The robber, fired two bullets into the ceiling
And said, “I shall shoot anybody not kneeling.”
Jenna said, “I’m gonna laugh as you fry.”
The robber said, “You’d better reach for the sky.”

Armed police turned up; one lady arrested
Based on the ‘facts’ that another attested
The robber’s at home playing video games
And Jenna’s in jail for calling her names

And all the police wonder what to expect
Now that they’ve lost any public respect
At lunch break they wonder how low they could stoop
When they’re as inviting as watered down soup.



[What a coincidence; a poem about someone called Jenna enduring an injustice. Pure chance… honest, Guvnor!]

Bark of a Rabid Dog

A chameleon can change his name many times
But it won't free him from the guilt of his crimes
He hides behind fake names
To play malicious games
A gutter snipe who'd dance for nickles and dimes

From keyboard he types a harassment and threat
His pathetic appetite for evil is sharpened to abet
A coward's way of life
Belligerence is rife
His abhorrent past is something he should regret

On and on he barks like a rabid dog in the night
I know a bulldog who'd take him down in one bite
One more bully beaten
A geezer, a cretin
One who always seems to be spoiling for a fight

Sneakers

Broke my running shoes,
Ruined my day to be honest,
Now I gotta go down to the shoe store and listen to some cretin tell me what shoes I should be wearing,
As I arrived, a young man approached me and immediately starts dribbling on about the weight of each shoe,
"Midsole foams on this Nike now make a plush ride possible without adding much heft to the shoe" he says with excitement in his eyes,
"Just give me something that fits my foot and take my money" I think to myself as I nod politely,
I ended up leaving with three new pairs of sneakers,
Cost me $600

Le Cretin Amoureux De Jacques Prevert

L’amoureux brindezingue dit non avec la tète
Le cerveau fort agité amèrement s’embête
Pendant qu’il dit oui avec le cœur enflammé
D’un amour incertain, embaumé et emmitouflé
Oh ! Quelle bête! Les femmes ont toujours raison
Même quand elles ont tort. La gravité défie la raison
Dit-on, d’un air funambulesque et prodigieux
L’amour à sens unique est bizarre et malheureux
Quelle folie de se voir noyer dans l’entonnoir de l’étang
Le fou rire le prend, le cancre a gaspillé tout son temps
L’amoureux désaxé au lieu de rencontrer  le grand bonheur
Se voit masquer dans les cendres noires d’un triste malheur.

Copyright © Avril 2022, Hébert Logerie, Tous droits réservés
Hébert Logerie est l'auteur de plusieurs recueils de poésie.

Lake Lurker

Sun loud
No cloud

Pack up
Meet up

Split, Blue
Come too

Up hill
Splash, chill

In lake
Dark shape!

Swim still?
Lost thrill

Leg? Fin?
Not in!

Cretin?
Eaten!

Float, creek
Sprung leak!

Big scare
Hiss air

Leak get
All wet

In drink
Bat sink!

It’s grim
Can’t swim

Gat found
Hang down

Stop, clown!
Get down!

Be fair,
She’s scared

From tree
Gat see

Strange beast
Friends feast

Just then
Shelled friend

Showed head
And said

On back!
Land tack

To shore
Thank more

New plan
Dry land!

Mad Vlad Gone Bad

Read the room and wind your scrawny neck in, Mr Putin
Mark my words, the West are gonna stick their size ten boot in
No-one here has fallen for your good-for-nothing plan
So pop your pacifier in and get back in your pram

Heed the world, the Bulldog and the mighty Uncle Sam
We’ve seen through your bravado, it’s all arrogance and sham
You brag about your weaponry to stifle our rebukes
But you won’t get your way by simply mentioning your nukes

For that's some twisted logic just to get what you desire
When if you blow the place apart and set its bones on fire
The only prize that you will win, as far as I can see
Is a massive crater where your hopes once used to be

There’s bullets with your name on, any one could leave you dead
Should a sniper plant one in the middle of your head
Perhaps a comrade soon will smear your door knob in the night
But read my lips you cretin, it ain’t gonna be Marmite

There is another option that you could attempt of course
Which is whipping off your shirt and then cavorting on a horse
You tried that once before and looked a proper numpty then
I have to say you’re looking like a numpty once again

Spirits Unbroken

"History's more than a collection of facts...it's about people" by poet.


Black people were stolen,
trodden on and beaten.
Classified a cretin
like an ape in a zoo,
oft whipped and branded too,
some were even eaten.

They were worked until bent,
their heritage was mocked.
Runaway slaves were stalked;
fleeing chains and torment
death was a nonevent,
their every escape, blocked.

Their spirits unbroken,
black hopes have awoken.

The Way I Conceive Poetry

I conceive poetry as
possibility of disarming fools,
  putting health masks on them...
To wash the hands of the impure,
put a stop to the negativity...
Believing more in God and science
that God teaches...
Poetry to be a perennial vaccine
against malice and cretin..
holy app to protect
who suffers protecting life...
Poetry to argue with the stars,
to eliminate ignorance, decrease
the excess of pretending...
Accumulate saps of good practices
unravel hidden mysteries...
Expose the truth of the expansion of the universes
reveal the secret of the aurora borealis
and find the compass rose...
make poetry only with
affection, sweetness and kisses...
Create dreamy sonnets
with pure metaphors and do
verses whatever
just of pleasure and delirium...
focused poetry only
for the love that comes to be
the final solution of eternity
  of life... !

Rantin' Like a Fool

There was an old cat who thought he was cool
Rantin' til it made him look like a fool
I heard some folks say
"He's a motley stray"
Hissin'  'bout stuff just like a right paw tool

Black cats ran him out of their neighborhood
Talkin' smack like he lived in Hollywood
He sat on the fence
Tellin' us we're dense
Gruff Gus, said he's always misunderstood

White felines laughed at him behind his back
Cuz Gus lived on the wrong side of the track
They held a meetin'
Without the cretin
I heard them whisperin' the word, 'bushwhack.'

So the story goes, Gruff Gus disappeared
American Tabbies gleefully cheered
Something had transpired
Gus was undesired
He's mortified that his head had been sheared

Wake Up Call

Donald Trump my muse does not like
Nor his COVID-19 grave spike
I just can not sleep
'til that cretin creep
Gets the message to take a hike!

In Confession Today

In confession today

What will I say 
In confession today?
That I didn’t pray – 
How long will you stay
In confession today?

What will I say
In confession today?
That I left my rosary beads at home
To benediction I didn’t come – 
Ah curse you!
How long will you stay
In confession today?

What will I say 
In confession today?
I forgot my Hail Mary- 
I don’t like him – he’s scary!
How long will you stay 
In confession today?

What will I say 
In confession today?
I didn’t take off my hat-
Well fancy that!
I think this amadan
Will stay all day in confession today

What will I say 
In confession today?
Perhaps the question is – 
Will I have my confession today?
That eejit is still yapping on-
Going – going – gone!
He’s been there
For ten minutes at least
Just prattling to the priest

I think there’ll be 
No confession today-
This chatterbox 
Has booked his seat
In the confession box





At last he’s coming out- 
What’s this all about?
He’s still blathering!
Will he ever give over?

At last I can go in
And get penance for my sin

But that cretin
Has made me forget 
What I should say
In confession today


4.1.15

Sensitive

I say a lot of things but little of it has any meaning
These daily words and conversations are all too quick and fleeting
But NEVER say the wrong thing; in this age you can’t delete them
Lines have become blurry, distorted; drawn jagged and uneven
Wrong might seem right for a minute, but then forever you’re a heathen
Someone gets offended at the damage your opinion might be dealing
Then the assailant isn’t even allowed to respond with any feelings
Not remorse or regret nor will they hear any pleading
Go away and rot and repent you guilty cretin

Don’t disagree with me, don’t try to explain, I won’t hear a thing
I’m too far ingrained into the world I maintain; to me, it is what it is
Your truths are all false, I loudly explain; credit to your perspective I will never give
Into one ear and right out the other go all the ideas by which you’ve lived

So eventually everyone passes by each other not even speaking
Now there’s too much risk. What’s the point? There’s no reason
New issues arise and historical scabs surface again; our defeat is
hidden with the values we’ve kept from ourselves, where they die lost and bleeding

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