Long Bouncers Poems
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The other members of the group would tease Lambent Shroud.
They’d speak in groans n puns too.
You’d sense lambent was a little uncomfortable with it all.
The other members of this amazing group were all tall, had numerous quirks, and spoke with crystal clear clarity.
They stood out even when alone.
Their high IQ, articulacy, and physical presence were obvious requirements for this enterprise.
They were constantly with each other hatching plans.
But Lambent may have had a begrudging “one who leads” complex.
But was the cordiality apparent and only for appearances?
Team leader Renee is Hazy and Albert is Rainbow.
The brain sessions were more often than not impromptu.
Hazy, Halcyon and Amber would seem like cerebral archers the way they bounced informal sessions off each other.
The other pairs, bright spark subgroups would have these on the spot conventions.
“Sparks would fly.
High IQ flashes sky high.
We never ever say die.”
Eerie notion, pie in the sky.”
The smart seven chipping in one by one generating a certain heat.
Even fleeting cabals.
Their brain cliques they nicknamed “Bouncers,”
Or “Pools.”
“Blessing and a boon. Under a shimmering moon. You’ll be lifting trophies soon.”
Lambent the awkward rhymer.
Wonder world had a strained crease on his face.
“Crackpot scheme, halbaked dream, eccentric team.”
In reply.
And so the banter used to go until someone ran out of ripostes.
There were daily meetings also on security updates devised by the team.
But there was much nod and wink, subterfuge.
Amber Leaf the accountant controlled the cash flow, dividends, “watertight insurance,” wages, general outlay.
But one got the impression that there was something afoot.
Amber and sylvan nudged;
“Should we rhyme as we speak or maybe tweak til next week.
Isn’t Lambent leaning a lot on his Shadow.
The Alter Ego.”
Who is this Shadow to begin with Amber asked?
An umbrella term
My driveway is packed with the cars
of friends and family,
chips put out, and the little ones
are running joyously.
A cooler filled up with bag ice
keeps cold soda and beer,
I think half the folks I know
were able to get here.
I stand over a charcoal grill,
today it is my thing,
propane may work in a pinch,
but briquettes remain king
Coals seer some discount longhorn steaks,
bought from a friend of mine,
will turn the meat ninety degrees,
get perfect grill-mark lines.
My vegan niece sits not far off,
always looks thin and ill,
ready to tell everybody:
“It’s not okay to kill!”
As if the plants she likes to eat
didn’t go to their death,
some day she might see how it is,
but she ain’t got there yet.
The youngsters go high on the swings,
I hear metal chains squeak,
one even gets up far enough
to brush against some leaves.
Every few moments one flies off,
and lands half-stumbling,
turns back to his cousins and cries:
“That jump was amazing!”
The older kids are further back,
shagging some fly-balls down,
they mix it up with fast bouncers,
racing across the ground.
Inside men sit and watch the game,
share opinions on sports,
each convinced they know the deal,
which players to exhort.
Not a word of work goes around,
and to me that’s just fine,
Boss-man gets five days of the week,
but these two? They are mine.
Wives and sisters sit on the deck,
indulging in girl-talk,
it may be a stereotype,
but lordy, how they squawk.
Then again, maybe it’s just me,
the introverted type,
gossiping in a big circle,
not something I would like…
Take off the ones medium rare,
three more minutes—well done,
plate them up, then give a shout:
“The steak’s on, everyone!”
War
Is where
Nobody wins
And everybody sins
At the unbeautiful bar
War is hell on earth
At birth
God created humans
To be better than the lions
And the other nefarious predators
That’s a given
War transforms young men
And young women
Into absurd killers and murderers
War is criminal
War is suicidal
The truth hurts. Oh! Boy. Oh! Boy
Vile foragers oppress, attack, maim and destroy
Common sense is absent in wartime
No countries are at their prime
Where they harvest dead victims, casualties
Pains, sufferings, animosities and calamities
War is immoral
War is awful
War is for crazed gangsters
War is for ireful bouncers
Death comes early for numberless youngsters
Families are worrying, crying and mourning
And don’t care about vanity, flags and flowers
Families only care about the living
Love, peace, harmony and humanity
War is wasteful
War is baneful
War is for dreadful pit-bulls
War is for god-awful fools
Premature death is unacceptable and crazy
And cemeteries are plentiful and not empty
How sad and unnecessary to be so strong
And to die so early and so young
How sad and inhumane to be so wrong
And to fail flat to unite in order to sing a fine song
Life is precious on all sides
Intolerance chokes and arrogance divides
Diplomacy is the key to resolving our current differences
Dialogue is the password to open up countless entrances
To find common ground
Better and friendlier sound
War is never the equitable answer to the question
But love is the quintessentially perfect solution
To the human or mundane equation.
Copyright © February 2022, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.
Glitterin' gold wuz struck along Alder's Gulch in eighteen sixty-three!
Potential prospectors came frum as fer away as Knoxville, Tenn-o-see!
Hordes uv soiled doves and gamblers migrated to the Gulch as well,
Along with platoons uv ruffians and barkeeps, their potent booze to sell!
Fellers labored hard all week pickin' and a-shovelin' at their claim.
But Sundays wuz set aside to raise 'oly 'ell, much uv it to their shame!
Baptist preachers thumped their Bibles tryin' to preach above the din.
There warn't no churches so they preached in saloons aginst the wages uv sin!
Hurdy-gurdy gals roamed about 'neath the steely-eyed gaze uv their 'madam'.
Guns and bowie knives wuz rife and wuz brandished by the dudes that had 'em!
Brawls erupted resultin' in blackened eyes and numerous bloodied noses,
Leavin' heaps uv rowdies sprawled on sawdust floors in grotesque poses!
Pie-aner players added to the din beltin' out their bawdy songs!
Preachers gave up and said to 'ell with it and joined the festive throngs!
Poker games wuz proceedin' in ever' saloon, usually endin' in a ruckus,
Since there seemed to be an excess uv aces held by some cheatin' cuss!
Fallin' down drunks wuz nuisances that bouncers simply booted out the door,
But they somehow meandered to another pub to imbibe a little more!
On Sundays they had their spree - on Mondays though sick and broke,
They panned fer 'dust fer another Sabbath frolic - the aim uv ever' bloke!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
This mental scene came over me while finishing my abnormal psych final:
A pack of about 12 guys all wearing
Sweat pants and no undergarments
**** stars
No white dwarfs here...
They are headed into the strip club for a little fun.
I can visualize the suprise of the bouncers,
the patrons all have a look of protest,
but what are they really going to do?
The wads of cash in hand almost match their...
Oh, you get where I am going with this.
The next sequence for these guys is to chase some viagra
With a few tumblers of jagermeister.
Some of the strippers are going to have more fun
Than they've had since the Harlem Globetrotters were in town.
But poor Lil' Bunny;
It's her first night up there on the swirling stage,
And it's moving like an event horizon.
Her legs are stiff and they're not the only turgid things in this
Flesh arena.
The guys sense her freshness like Crocuta crocuta to the recent kill.
Earlier in the day,
The other dancers told ol' Lil' to really grind on the costumer's lap
In order to keep the money flowing-
"It clicks off the nerves in their brain and transfers all thought
South of the equator."
Yay!
Well, now she is has 12 overzealous guys waiting in queue
With big suprises for her,
And thin veils of cotton covering their junk.
...
I lightly chuckle in class, and then realize
I only have 20 minutes to finish this wonderful test.
Do people think you are sleazy and bad,
since the day you replied to that want ad?
The words were in black and white, and plain.
“No Experience Necessary, We Train”.
This job is not what most women would like to get,
However, it pays the bills and keeps you out of debt.
You live in a nice house, and drive a Corvette.
Of all the occupations anyone can seek,
there are not too many paying two grand a week.
They hired you for what came naturally.
Men easily discover your great beauty.
You have the looks of a centerfold in a magazine.
Your dancing in the club makes quite a scene.
A fight with your old man made him pack and go away.
He left you and your child unexpectedly one day.
You were desperate and needed a job right away.
It seems nobody was impressed with your resume.
Other employers apparently could not be convinced.
So many places only wanted experienced.
When you are dancing in the club each night,
men from all over think you are a delight.
Scantily clad, you erotically tease.
This is how you gather your gratuities.
Some men get obnoxious, and a bit out of hand.
Enforcers appear to take a stand.
A small team of bouncers comes out to greet.
The mashers land in the middle of the street.
Never mind what people think is wrong or right.
Many men like me will be seeing you tonight.
I can stay faithful in a room full of hoes
and I can stay high in this room full of lows
but she want to get wifed by a dude with a ring
so she can't stay faithful in a room full of kings
I let my mind soar just to keep myself grounded
because I know I stand alone even when i sit surrounded
I see my biggest issue and its hard to surmount it
see emotionally I'm broke but my accountant's steady counting
I'm only 20 so I don't need to sip youths fountain
but I guess since I've found it I can sell you a few ounces
once I put the velvet rope up and hire a few bouncers
to see it close up you'll need a better voucher
because my head says to trust but my heart still doubts you
and now that everything is coming out
they all wonder why I never come around
because when I told them i was gunna do it
thats what they all used to laughed about
now they want to gas me up to late for that guys
my engine is self sufficient sorry...nice try
because I don't need millions just a little old school impala money
but its hard to stack up when every time I see a dime they're asking for a dollar from me
and its funny how I went
from weird to special to different
and now all of a sudden it seems like I'm worth a second listen
or maybe just another person of interest?
In the day time!
in the day time, she said:
yes in the freakin day.
Twenty six limos
one chef, a full staff
bouncers, a bartender and people glamour.
we are gonna honor with trophies
peoples who needez-ah recognition.
when the sun begins to set that when they'll go out to the arena and shine as athlete's.
Under the stars where the celebrities will
do their thing.
It's what separates stars from the audience. Getting it right so
that those who admire can sit and see
and be apart of the spectacle.
it's what makes all the hard work worth it.
In the day time Baby!
Canter's presence is requested
to entertain the entertainers,
their I'll sing to an adoring few!
And shall dine with the men of Rasslin
and in the evening
I'll sit at ringside as guest!
Strumpets and Trumpets
to serenade an adoring following.
Peeplez All over the World
Peeplez of Peeplez
Glamour and Valored
Whoo: the specticaul!
Grab my Robe I'm in ah mood!
Days and Night's
Baby the parties
all Night Long!
Chauffeur take me to the bridge!
their we gonna hook up
with the ensemble gonna party!
like only we can do-it!
All Night Long!
Looking forward to dating
and mating
Grab my robe and sing along
with the Strong dong of
All Night Long!
Restless rebel, control the ball on the gregarious ground
Looking within and hooking dignity to the home
Where a restive riposte resurrects the meandering mound
Detriment and its cement sediment groom
In search of answers and cancers
Growing without control and throwing mud on the room
That without mercy plays into the hands of bouncers
Primed to jettison the happiness for which you crave
At the time and in the clime where pesky pouncers
Storm forth and chide the wonderful wave
That steers stability and versatility in the home where
Your truculence and petulance dig the grave
Where your treasure trove and freedom measure dare
To resist the onslaught of seething thoughts brought on board
To confuse order and disorder in your home, slaying vestiges of care
In the wake of asinine attitudes that accord
Dignity and sanity to restlessness which your home can’t afford
As your restive riposte resurrects the meandering mound
Restless rebel, for the sake of stability, control the ball on your gregarious ground.
Heaven’s to Mergetroid, what dire straights had the moon men gotten themselves into this time? Lunar craters were filling with nuclear waste and there was not a friend to be found at the convention. The UFO (Unified Foreign Oscillators) team was too busy singing itself silly in the far corner around the Hammond organ. It was a regular wine and dine of vacuum salesmen with dozens of oxygen masks, slamming traditional medicine and promoting laughter, pushing the sucking of gas vapors through a straw! Each new sale brought forth new tid-bits of bad breath and gafaws. The Listerine soaked tissues drifting in on silver trays from the kitchen were bound to quell the stench! Rosie the robotic maid yanked the club Presidents spandex boxer shorts up so high he squealed with pleasure! The robot bouncers had to launch wormholes into the raucous crowd to thin them out. Those still standing after that gig would have the dislocated jaws from laughing after having taken their medicine.