Long Hyperbole Poems
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If I was to take a word, say focus,
Stand it on its head,
And ask with growing sense of dread,
Why my friend did you just now,
Fly upon this particular
Moment’s verbal locus?
Torture I might answer, like waterboarding,
Might explain a thing or two.
Indeed the stakes are dear,
And the coast far from clear-
For foggy shores clarity prevents,
The utter contingency of cluttered events.
Focus is the mine shaft of the mind,
Magnifying that which falls
Into categories of significance:
Signs of a trance, a mental dance,
By which thinking signifies
The magnificent follies
Of a man upside down
In a world of lies.
No subtlety there,
Poet banging hair chest bare,
The mental frequency hertz,
Screeching, scratching, snatching,
Lose bits of hurt out of the air.
The mathematics of falling
Made clear by Newton,
His numbers uncovering
What was
Always there:
A god already in free fall,
The Fall, the autumn of our birth,
The forsaken garden,
Two dummies hand in hand,
An undulating snake,
A world of entanglement,
All fleeing into a desert dream.
For what? To where? And why?
The three double jews of the trinity
Which Law forbade no One to ask,
Yet no body did
Put focus to task.
She reappears all the time.
The rabbit hole stood for what was to come,
The worms therein what was done.
The trip down was fun,
Getting out gave more than the sum.
The prism diffracted the invisible
Beams of light,
An assortment of possibilities followed,
The world explained, the mind contained,
A boundless infinite void of space,
Surrounding us,
Disgracing us,
For we had to face,
The borders of our place.
Trapped inside
We looked the other way,
Attic floors, token doors,
A distilled virtue, forgeries for another day.
The sky was not the limit, we were.
The atoms of the mind mere reflections
Of our best guessing games.
There though, lay our best hope.
After the bloodshed
She reappeared again.
But only after.
Choices like Templars into the night,
Distracted the courtesies of a harmonious cosmos,
God had blood and died,
Men embraced humiliation and cried,
Change, the abomination of free will,
Altered the fabric of time.
Focus put by for a rainy day.
Distraction, the play thing
Of an unruly monster lurking in the shadows of thought,
Vomiting a pile of disassociations.
The subconscious mind exists behind thought,
where reality isn't always real.
Imbued with skills, imagination wrought:
Faith ventures beyond reason to reveal
impulses: conscious thought cannot conceal.
Curiosity ponders what could be;
contemplating life's what-ifs and maybes.
And sleep creates an actuality,
whereas there is no cancer, no tabes,
no wars, no dying, no starving babies.
Orphaned wishes, tethered to silent screams,
can only come true: if I adopt one.
But dreams are less demanding, so it seems,
like Rumpelstiltskin's gold: straw hopes get spun
into fantasies that outshine the sun.
As sleep sets the stage: the actor in me
plays roles from court jester to Lancelot.
In dreams, I’m invulnerable and free:
slicing my way through life's Gordian knot;
I steal its awe, and yet never get caught.
Storms do not last
They happen very fast
But the damages stay
In the trays, in the hays, and lay
With us for a very long time
The memories are worth more than a dime
The souvenirs disappear
The bad judgments reappear
From time to time on the screen
Destroying heart and spleen
The happy times don’t last forever
But the humiliation, the deception
Will remain from generation to generation
God is good, God is fair; God, however,
Chased Adam and Eve
Because they messed-up big time
They committed the wrong crime
Bring me a bottle of Aleve
To erase and obliterate the bad memories
Bring a case of Vodka
For my friends, so we can enjoy the festivities
Play some Reggae, some Konpa,
Some Soukous, some Polka,
Some Calypso, some Samba,
And let forget the bad times,
And the ignorance of a few
Chase the party crashers and the mimes
Evict the audacious freeloaders
So we can enjoy a better life
Ignore the clowns and the actors
Do not bring the knife
Because security is tight
Bring the spotlight
After the nefarious storms
And stay away from the big bosoms
Spring brings flowers and fever
The happy times won’t last forever.
Copyright © April 2015, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poetry.
Poetry often starts outside
of one's self – on a distant hill or near
greenhouse shelf; our-cultivations
as the consideration of a grafted rose
goes; the meandering, dripping of a stream
or nose; submerging of our toes in
chilling clarity – we see to the bottom,
sometimes fooled by depth –
or that of a winged flight, wingtips tossing
sparks of light, dipping and scooping
winged ladles of air, unseen but yet
we see them there, pouring out there,
back into our fanciful sky, our fanciful
eye -- in a heart's invested sigh -- up
high in the atmosphere, sighted unseen
spirit -- looking and listening for the echo
of angels -- turning us more inward, where
deeper observation and motion begins,
the pen is lifted, and the paper stained
finally, fondly into lyrical submission –
Sartre was precise in his definition of hell
Excluded from humanity for just a case of birth
I’m punished for the others and why they’ll never tell
I’m living through insanity of those who rule the earth
Don’t count on the nation thing, this is exaggeration
Don’t intergrate me with the subject that I’m not
No Charlie Hebdo cover depicts this situation
There’s no excuse for me, despite there are a lot
No law of social death exists, yet it is used in practice
No paragraph declares about my human rights
Cursed for the land I’m in, I cannot live like this
Yet I keep carry on, though for the rest I died
The stupid role of victim prepared for me to play
I diss in full assurance that it was planned by those
Who didn’t care about the sense I’ve found today
Excluded from humanity, I stop to smell the rose.
(alternately titled: aery diction galloped jocosely)
Abbreviation asper "FAKE"
abdication (wishful thinking),
an aberration Trump accepted
abjuration (or alternative) i.e.
ablation, thee apprenticed
president, would never forsake
abnegation (sooner his cold,
dead paws pried loose Putin
on the Ritz Carlton), this
abomination, his indiscriminate
abrogation appears (underwent)
acceleration autocratic accentuation
Americans aver acceptation,
acclamation, acclimation,
accommodation "FAKE"
accreditation, averse Hispanic
refugee acculturation, he blithely
asseverates, viz faux (trumped up)
accumulation unfairly fingering
accusation (baseless bigotry)
scapegoating fifty plus shades
brown illegal aliens despite
provable residency status
conveniently citing himself
perforce repetition validates
accustomation touts "FAKE"
non hardy laurels spilt, spelt,
and smelt acetification reign
ruination unleashing acetylation
promoting political acidulation
SCOTUS acrimonious activation
authoritarian smug egoistic
actualization nepotism, jingoism,
despotism actuation atavistic,
apathetic, allergic adaptation
acquiescent, arrant, abhorrent
adjudication Machiavellian aggressive
adjuration acrimonious atrocious
administration alarming, appalling,
arresting admiration abysmal,
artificial, asymmetrical adoration
awful adulation, ambivalent
apathetic adulteration avast
averse adumbration adulteration
affair advocation barren aeration
puffed hirsute aerosolization.
A ghostly vision, flittering
in and out of my sight:
a white moth's gossamer wings flap
like a series of still photos,
flipped ever so swiftly
before my eyes.
The air ripples
like a pool of liquid ebony:
as each stroke of its wings
opens dimensions
of time and space.
Appearing and disappearing
a monochrome reality comes into focus:
like a flash of white, caught in the moonlight,
for a split second.
And like stop-and-go animation
phantom-like wings seem surreal!
Its flight instills a hypnotic trance:
like a fluttering flame flickering in the wind.
Black and white juxtaposed images
unite in a synergy of negative contrasts
that culminate in an illusion:
that's positively breathtaking!
I can't write nuttin' worth a damn on a full stomach!
Hunger pangs fuel mine poetic juices,
yours truly moost best be famished
resembling lovely bag of bones
beyond irreparable damage
wrought courtesy anorexia nervosa
nevertheless literary masterpieces
one written quick succession after another
profusely gushes forth
unstoppable tsunami surges rhythmically
metaphorically allowing,
enabling, and providing
voluminous water logged noggin
able, ready and willing
to burst infinite outpouring
at Möbius strip cerebral seams.
Hyperbole employed
regarding above attestation
regarding conducive bodily
state to whip out
acceptable, passable and
reasonable rhyming creation
to experience and
witness poetic emancipation,
whereby until the end
of time modest glorification
endowed upon me who
imbues vast majority inspiration
of contemporaries, plus unborn peoples...
imagine renowned said
author wannabe just for kicks
(sinks false teeth
into verboten rotten apple -
oohing and aahing yum zuck)
subsequently vicious rumor affecting
millions future generations
debauched learned primates
inescapably slide into behavioral mosh pit
analogous to eventual
senescent cellular detritus
sloughed off vis a vis keratinization
anyway figuratively swinging around
deftly cycling back thru
imaginary infinite jesting loop
unlikely neither chance fame nor fortune
promises me financial materialization,
nope, not even until hell freezes over,
nor when grim reaper feasts upon
*****sapiens obliteration
witnessing every flora and fauna
molecular repurposing quantification
simulates signifying universal recycling
umpteenth big bang occurrence
erasing all cosmic consciousness
nary trace left behind
encompassing collective satisfaction
since genesis wrought life forms
wherein primitive organisms
begot reproduction fast forward bajillion years
madding crowd punctuated
planet Earth avast urbanization
essentially branding oblate spheroid
viz totally tubular vinyl city westernization.
A shooting star streaks from on high
like a kamikaze firefly
whose fiery death's mandatory:
upon grazing Earth's atmosphere.
Yet, there's no time to shed a tear:
for its blaze is transitory.
Its trail of sparks can mesmerize,
as it plummets to its demise.
As in a fairy-tale story:
its epithet soon fizzles out.
Yet, its beauty's never in doubt:
darkness amplifies its glory.
A shooting star streaks from on high:
and its descent warrants a sigh.
A blaze of sparks lights up the night,
yet vaporizes in a flash:
ending its suicidal dash.
It's such a spectacular sight
that folks cast a wish upon it.
But it'll vanish lickety-split,
so the timing has to be right.
If you don't cast it straight away,
you'll lose your wish: so don't delay.
It must be cast during its flight.
A shooting star's destined to die,
and yet in death, it achieves flight:
burning its way across the sky.
The breast of this dada heaves
with remorseful painful ache
as if...the insides of my body
into a bajillion pieces break
though anniversary of birth,
I intended to write, but... did rake
akin to hot coals, an overwhelming agony
wrought urgent compulsion to slake
expunging sudden onset, shook me awake,
how this papa brought years of heartache,
upon an innocent newborn,
oh no...definitely "not fake,"
and her elder protective sibling Eden
(understandable not to forgive), - who lake
(like) an "uber quasi mother"
did welcome thee with a fair shake
(twenty Earth orbitz ago February 4th, 2019)
metamorphosed into such an adoring, giving,
and loving lass unbeknownst, when she did make
her debut (passing the
Apgar test with flying colors) for goodness sake
cuz, I betcha you studied while in utero,
thus said standard assessment involving intake
and outflow of breath
as seconds old infant piece of cake,
and unexpected eruption of despair,
thus found me sinking into melancholy air
and compounded as "mother",
and I became aware
how cognitive skills
(additionally low body weight) clear
lee delayed triggering screaming
bouts from thee dear
special Punim, and
oft times this papa flare
with frustration and volley with
reciprocated enraged voice
imbecile and juvenile antics of mine clear
lee heard outside 1148 Greentree Lane
neighbors possibly a grizzly bear
broke loose from the zoo,
or other beast escaped their lair,
thus prompting me to post a sign beware
of the ferocious father, and dare
to enter at your own risk,
and do not forget to mutter a prayer
lest ye be swallowed in one fell swoop,
and nobody would hear
from that person again
cannibalized by Matthew
Scott mailer daemon,
whose surly mood embittered by rare
stints of employment, otherwise we lived
dirt poor surviving on diet of worms, I swear
to be totally "FAKE",
but hyperbole to lyft shaky spear
writs.