Long Jump for joy Poems
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As the sun sets
A hot wind like this
Does not belong in downtown Lansing
But here it is
Speed-boating down the Grand River grinning and wearing Ray-Bans
My wife and I
We hold down our pouncing bouncing patio table
At the Waterfront Bar and Grill
As if we were airborne soldiers just landed
But still attached and tangled
To our thumping jumping parachutes
Strings of lightbulbs clattering like teeth above us
Hung from under the Friday night tent
96 degrees even as the day sinks to evening.
The river converts to beer and shots of whiskey.
The catfish are buzzed and jump for joy.
The four member rock band is amped up
With the addition of a mandolin
And plays the entire second side in order
From Led Zeppelin III
But replacing at the end Hats Off (To Roy Harper)
With Hey Hey What Can I Do? as one big set.
Who does that?
We notice there are well-known bartenders
Playing hooky from working anymore
At the drab and deadly chain restaurants
Back in the townships.
We should all follow their lead
And go on strike right now from the boredom of life
Everyone everywhere
Just quit and sit along the Grand River in this sparkling city
But the lead guitarist
He drinks his beers as fast as the crowd
And the bass guitarist tilts her instrument
Vertical to her shoulder
A mother soothing her baby’s back
Swaying her hips in melodic circles
While the drummer and the piano player try to catch up
On beat
So we sing along
Implanting our hands in the dough of air.
Jimmy Page is here.
Sitting alone.
Dressed in black.
Sipping from a tall glass of orange juice.
It’s too hot for flies
So lightning bugs twinkle to the sticky bottoms
Of emptied beer pitchers
Flickering on the table tops
To the night’s finale of Whole Lotta Love
Mixed at the end with Baba O’Riley.
Who does that?
All night
A friendly man at the table next to me
A union bus driver
Who bragged he’d worked enough overtime all year
To take PTO for the entire summer
Flicks his hand against my shoulder
(The same shoulder that has Melanoma growing on it)
Every time the band strikes the first chords
To another rare Zep
With the same look of
Can you believe it?
Apparently, I must have the same look.
The told us to hate all people
who were born with real pale skin,
as if lacking pigmentation
was like an original sin.
Though these people had done nothing,
they cried out,”Look to the past!
These people killed and they had slaves,
So we must hate them all, and fast!”
But folks are individuals,
free to choose what’s right and wrong,
so how can they be hated for
actions done by people long gone?
Would you throw a man in prison
for something his grandfather did?
When did guilt become genetic,
to be saddled upon the kids?
And what color of human kind
didn't own slaves at one time?
Wouldn’t we have to hate them all
if we’re to think upon these lines?
And the worlds greatest murderers
were Ghengis Khan and Mao Ze-dong,
does that mean I should hate Asians,
and place the blame on every one?
Yet they all still keep saying it,
and to me it makes no sense,
not to mention it would cost me
a boatload of my best friends.
I won’t hold folks responsible
for what was done at a past date,
by people who are now long dead,
I will not be told who to hate.
Then they told us we should hate
all human beings who are male,
proclaimed that we all were toxic,
and everything we do would fail.
Somehow half of the human race
now was not supposed to exist,
unless we would neuter ourselves,
then they’d ‘allow’ us to persist.
But masculine and feminine
are older than humanity,
and to ignore evolution
is just blind stupidity…
I mean look at the great buildings built,
it was done mostly by men,
and soldiers who protect us all,
overwhelmingly male again.
If they’re a toxic threat to us,
then someone please answer why
those hated males will risk it all
and for their families will die?
Why, if they are horrible,
do some women try to transform
their bodies to male facsimiles,
if men are all to be scorned?
The same people who despise us
think that we all should jump for joy
when some mentally ill woman
tries to declares themself a boy.
I don’t think I will demonize
half of the bloody human race,
the masculine is quite sublime,
I will not be told who to hate....
CONCLUDES IN PART II.
“A voice was heard in Ramah,
weeping and great mourning,
Rachel weeping for her children;
and she refused to be consoled,
because they are no more.”
Hope was born before the massacre;
Jesus Christ was swaddled in a manger.
Why Rachel? She died in childbirth.
She cried out in her sadness.
Rachel cried out, “Ben Oni,”
son of my mourning.
Jacob renamed him, Benjamin.
Rachel cried out.
Massacre of the innocents,
those sweet boys delivered
out of Bethlehem’s reach
and into Abraham’s bosom.
Into Egypt, Mary and Joseph
and their bundle of good news and great joy,
until God called them out of Egypt.
“Prepare the way for the Lord,”
spoken before John the Baptist
was beheaded because of a lustful dance.
Sufferings abound amidst the healings.
There are tares amidst the wheat.
Snatch them out, you would think,
but for now they’re a necessary favor.
God’s mercy and grace
draws all men to Himself.
“For God so loved the world
in this way: He gave his one
and only Son, so that everyone
who believes in him
will not perish but have
eternal life.”
“In Him was life, and that life was
the light of men. That light shines
in the darkness, and yet
the darkness did not overcome it.”
Mary would also feel the nails
that pierced her son’s wrists and ankles.
She would suffer the death of her savior.
Christ’s suffering and death, both necessary.
We want only to jump for joy, see the healings,
enjoy the teachings and celebration.
But, God knew what we needed to last.
Even now, his hand holds back
the Day of the Lord, when his mercy
runs out and great wrath comes
for those who bray in wicked deeds,
whose hearts have turned from their Creator.
A star in the heavens shines.
The heavenly host breaks out in song.
It’s the day they’ve been waiting for.
Shepherds and wise men make their way
to Him.
Make your way to Him.
(interwoven scripture from the NIV bible)
When my grandma wrote a letter, it was a descriptive thing,
You could almost smell the rosebush that she planted in the spring.
And when she saw a robin, you could also hear him sing,
Or a church bell in the distance had a familiar ring.
This letter she was writing was a lifeline to us all,
Since we couldn’t make the journey she would address us one and all.
For my mother there would be recipes just reading would make you drool,
For me, there would be a dollar and her memories of a one room school.
She would talk of fresh mown hay and the heat of the afternoon,
The coolness of the evening, and the size of that harvest moon.
It was better than television the way she could describe,
The wobbly legs of a new born calf you would swear you were by her side.
you also could envision the vastness of her heart,
Or see the tears on the paper when she spoke of being apart.
My grandma had a way with words that you just don’t see today,
Not just I thought I’d drop you a line with nothing more to say.
The words told you the colour, the size, shape, and the smell.
The description of her surroundings we all remembered well.
We all would have a visit each time she sat to write,
She would take us through her day
From morning until night.
We’d get to meet the people
She spoke to on that day,
We would hear about the neighbourhood and
What they had to say.
My heart would jump for joy
When I’d hear my mother say,
Come in the house I have a surprise
Grandma wrote today.
Now the letters don’t come anymore......
How I wish I had saved the rest,
For when it came to letter writing,
My grandma was the best.
>>
I paint pictures with words.
Calbambi@gmail.com
Captain MacEvoy
Did hunt in corduroy
But the zipping kept on tipping off the game.
He never bagged a deer
For they could plainly hear
His trousers, loud and clear, as he took aim.
He never understood,
While hiding in the wood,
How deer could tell whenever he was nearing.
And they would jump for joy
That Captain MacEvoy
Was either daft or maybe hard of hearing.
It always was the same:
First he'd sight the game,
Then he'd nock the arrow on the string.
But when he drew the bow
The game would up and go
Before he could release the wretched thing.
Not one who surrenders,
He would wear suspenders
To keep his corduroys from falling down
For he was skin and bones,
The advertising tones
Having warned the prey for miles around
Till, starving half to death,
He put his bow to rest,
Pursuing agriculture to survive.
As a substitute
For his lifelong pursuit,
MacEvoy ate fruit to stay alive.
Yes, tired of being tortured,
The Captain bought an orchard
With every fruit and berry known to man.
But word soon got around
Of the harvest to be found
By every deer and hare throughout the land.
MacEvoy, defeated,
His skinny frame depleted,
Was more than his companion dog could bear.
Though God had designated
The canine voice abated,
The dog communicated, then and there:
“Unlike a bow and arrow,
Corduroy apparel
Has no business being in the thicket.
Perhaps a gabardine,
Preferably in green,
Silent and unseen would be the ticket.”
As his companion coached,
MacEvoy approached
The dining deer that grazed there, unaware,
And finally shot the menace
So with a pint of Guinness
The two of them ate venison and pear.
Form:
You told me you loved me
Which none has ever say to me.
My heart jump for joy
Hearing those amazing words.
You wanted me to say yes
But I told you to wait,
Wait am watching.
As much as I love those words
Yet I don't want to fall
Cause I don't want to cry.
You stand a whole year waiting.
To my kindness I give you chance.
I learn how to love you truly,
I fall for you from the dept of my heart.
Couldn't sleep without you by my side,
Nor breathe without you.
You are now my Life.
Knowing that i'm fully in love with you,
You then carry out your plans,
You said you need sex!
What!! Sex?
But I was never ready for it.
You sing your sweet words to my head,
Hearing that I couldn't not resists
But am not still happy about it
Lieu the love I have for you has pass the sunset.
Am ready to give you my body,
To offer you my golden pride.
My heart never agreed with my mind
My brain couldn't think straight
The questions never occur to me
That, What then, after sex?
You enjoyed every bit of the second smiling
While I mourn over every shot, crying.
Now, after the whole game
I become completely disgusting to you,
Then you asked me to leave.
Oh!! There I go begging
Again and again, but you refused
And still chase me away.
No choice but path rather my way,
Carry inside me all the pain,
Regretting every time that I have waste.
What a shame,
I watched the innocent blood falling apart
Tears rolling down from my eyes.
I lost my priceless pride
All for nothing.
How I wished I know
What then after Sex.
What do you think of when you see the rain?
I see tears from heaven, because of the pain.
Some see it different , and im sure you do too,
You think its tears of joy, and a start of anew.
What do you think of when you see snow falling?
I think its the time of year ,that friends will be calling.
For christmas is not so very far away,
When you see snow falling ,and its there to stay.
Spring is always so nice to see here,
It brings out the animals , like squirls and deer.
Storms i dont like to see or hear,
The thunder is so loud, it can bust your ear.
When i see the sun , so high in the sky,
It makes me want to jump for joy.
DEAR SANTA I HAVE BEEN REALLY GOOD THIS YOU SEE.
PLEASE THIS YEAR I ONLY WANT ONE GIFT FOR ME.
I DONT WANT GAMES,CLOTHES,OR EVEN A TOY.
IF YOU GIVE ME THIS ONE GIFT OH HOW I'LL JUMP FOR JOY.
I HOPE IM NOT ASKING TO MUCH FOR YOU TO DO.
I WILL EVEN GIVE YOU ALL MY TOYS IF YOU WANT ME TO.
MR.SANTA EVERY OTHER WEEK THERES THIS PLACE I HAVE TO GO.
IT MAKES ME SO SAD CLEAR DOWN TO MY LITTLE TOE.
I NEVER WANT TO GO AND THATS SOMETHING MY FAMILY KNOWS.
BUT SOME MAN IN A BLACK DRESS TOLD MY MOM AND ME I MUST GO.
EVERY TIME I GO IN SO VERY VERY SAD.
WHEN I GET BACK HOME IN MY MOMS ARMS IM SO VERY GLAD.
BIRTHDAYS AND HOLIDAYS ARE THE WORST TIME FOR ME.
WHEN IM THERE I CRY CAUSE ITS NOT WHERE I WANT TO BE.
AT THAT PLACE THERE IS NO HAPPINESS OR LOVE.
WHEN I AM THERE I ALLWAYS WISH TO FLY AWAY LIKE A DOVE.
SANTA JUST THIS ONCE CAN YOU HELP ME OUT.
I PROMISE TO BE A GOOD GIRL AND NEVER POUBT.
MY ONLY GIFT I WANT THIS YEAR.
ITS TO NEVER GO BACK BECAUSE I HAVE ALL I NEED RIGHT HERE.
I KNOW YOUR BUSY MAKING GIFTS FOR GIRLS AND BOYS.
IF IT HELPS YOU CAN HAVE ALL OF MY TOYS.
PLEASE SANTA CAN YOU GRANT MY CHRISTMAS WISH?
I WILL EVEN TELL MOMMY TO BAKE COOKIES AND MAKE A BIG DISH.
MR. SANTA THIS YEAR PLEASE DONT LET ME CRY.
I NEVER WANT TO GO BACK TO THAT PLACE AND NOW YOU KNOW WHY.
PLEASE SANTA DONT FORGET IN YOUR BIG RED BAG.
MY CHRISTMAS WISH NOT TO GO BACK TO MY DAD.
I KNOW YOUR BUSY SO I WILL LET YOU GO.
I CANT WAIT FOR THE BIG DAY WHEN I HEAR HO HO HO.
PS. THANK YOU SANTA.
Form:
Our world is under relentless attack
We all need to be careful about the impact
Of this virus on us. Be strong, healthy and positive
About defeating “Hate”. Be active. Be proactive
Wash our hands and brains and stay awake, away
From people who’re sick, sneezing and thrown away
By the toxic virus, which is attacking all of us
We’re under attack; we need to exterminate this bug
Which is invisible, and elusive. Spray under the rug
And disinfect from top to bottom. Let’s be the boss
Of HATRED-100. We’re under constant attack
Let’s fight back. Let’s push back
This pandemic. There’s no need to panic
Yes, this is not the time to have a picnic
Let’s be safe and conservative
Let’s be careful, personal and proactive
Exercise, jump for joy. No ‘high five’ please
We must defeat this deadly disease
Our world is under unrelenting attack
The enemy is deadly and elusive
We all must fight and push back
We must be strong and proactive
Be prudent against all enemies
Say thank you, you’re welcome and please
Wash our hands, love our friends
Kill the virus by sanitizing our brains
Hearts, souls, spleens and hands
And keep Hatred away from our friends
From our neighbors and from the folks
Of our surroundings. Hate is no joke, no hoax
Love is the answer, love is the panaceas
Love is hope. Love is the antidote against all galimatias.
Copyright © March 2024, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.
I have been standing here thinking about so many things lately
Like how fate and time seem to just keep passing me by
And I know I am in my late 20’s,
And I know I am so lucky to have someone like you missing and loving me—
So unconditionally and it makes me feel so free yeah
But sometimes I get to hoping, wishing, and praying,
While I sit around waiting and searching for that miracle that will be like my shooting star
And when I am lonely and want to feel your warmth,
I just pretend that I am being held in your arms---
Oh – you know in this country we live in
I believe in possibilities
Even when this seem so up hill and everyone is acting un real
I can tell you honestly that even threw the darkest storms
I seen that miracles prevail
Yes I have seen miracles prevail
So I take a good look around
While I am still watching waiting praying
Listening and just believing
Somehow I will hear your voice from behind me
When I am least expecting it
And I will jump for joy
Knowing you will hold me tight and fill me with your love
Under this moon light star gazing sky
Oh and sometimes I get to hoping, wishing, and praying,
While I sit around waiting and searching for that miracle that will be like my shooting star
And when I am lonely and want to feel your warmth,
I just pretend that I am being held in your arms---
Because I know that even threw the darkest storms
I seen that miracles prevail
Yes I have seen miracles prevail
Miracles yes miracles prevail