Long Old people Poems
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1-800-TWEET-TWEET-TWEET
Whoa is me, don't have many friends
Except those here on the Soup
Maybe because I show only my best side
You don't know the real scoop
Nasty to children that push old people down
Whenever I get the chance
It's my right been living eighty-six years
Still adorable after a lifelong dance
Well what did you expect, some Casanova
No way, been through life's mill
Got spitted out quite unceremoniously
A hardened “lifer” if you will
Putting you on, been a charmer since birth
Ladies all flock to my door
Just wanting a piece of my virile “young” body
The word “old” I absolutely abhor
Well enough about me, a Hollywood hunk
Quite unassuming, shy and sweet
If any of you want to know this guy better
Call 1-800-TWEET TWEET TWEET
The Right to Die
A new era, a law tells us the right to die
there always was a right to die
many people choose to go that way
often called suicide.
The new law doesn't target them but
old people, those who also are ill, have
the right to be mercifully killed at
at a hospital near you
with this new law, the elderly are under
pressure to die soon, not take up space
for a younger generation, but it is in the
unsaid, we hear the whisper.
An article might appear telling the reader
the cost, in millions, to look after the old
not to mention the benefit they receive
How aged is old, 75 years, as cut off point
This new law is anti-human; those who
agreed, will see it used against them
when they retire and need surgery, that
will extend a few more years.
I can hear the screams of happy children a block away from the square
It is the fourth of July, the only day we have a carnival in our town
The tilt-a-whirl and the Ferris wheel are in their usual places.
How they manage to do this the same way every year is astounding.
Barkers are begging us to give up our dimes; I keep walking.
All of my money is going for rides, and cotton candy – hopefully pink.
It is crowded already; old people are sitting in lawn chairs watching.
Kids are running in and out of the crowd.
Blinking lights are everywhere.
There is such happiness here; my heart gives a bit of a jump.
People are smiling from every direction.
There are strollers and mommies.
We walk rapidly past them to get the next seat on the Ferris wheel.
It is always a magical day when the carnival comes – July 4th, every single year.
I remember you happiness
through the early aroma
of grinded coffee beans
wafting gently from
the corner coffee shop
I remember you through
the freshly bread 'scent
from the baker's sour rising yeast.
I remember you through
musicians playing in piazas
through the buzzling sounds
of the city's cobbled alleys, and streets
Through the children's laughter
running to ice-cream parlours,
Tourists in front of Cathedrals
Old people chit-chatting on benches
on a mid-springtime breeze .
I remember you happiness
through the eyes of happy couples
strolling along a sandy beach,
Through the Sunday Mass ,
a young priest on the altar
Through morning picnics,cook-outs
'gatherings of relatives ,our dogs,and families.
I remember you happiness through
yachts birthing at the Valletta Grand Harbour,
through aeroplanes landing in foreign lands,
through cherished moments
of Birthdays,Baptisms and Weddings,
A dinner shared with our closest friends.
Today Coffee Shops are empty
All Restaurants shut down,
Our island is a ghost town,
I am the saddest clown.
Today I hear no aeroplanes
The yachts not to be seen
Cathedrals,Churches closed
Yet the church bell chimes at noon,
Amd I kneel on my knees.
Today there are no tourists
All children locked inside
This Covid 19 virus
is worse than any Boogey-man
IIt brings tears to our eyes.
It kills our own people
Destroying human-kind.
Today the only way to see my friends
is virtually on skype,
My mothetr,brother ,father, I can't hug you
Just to keep you all alive.
Today the world's a scary place,
But together we would fight
With faith ,with love,
Determined like our ancestors
We'd leave this page behind.
We'd end this page as hereos
Compassionate and kind,
We'd be the great survivors
A candle in the night.
We'd learn from this dark moment
As dark as pitch black sky
We learn that above evil
Hope reighns, our sun would shine.
We learn to appreciate our loved ones,
Our ancestors ,Our elderly,
Our island and this world
Together we would make it
Through distance hand-in -hand.
We are going to dig to bury our dead:
Mother, father, sisters and brothers,
Uncles, aunts, friends and strangers.
We are going to inter our dead:
Archbishop, pastors, Houngans and vicars.
The altar boys in a row are profusely bleeding.
The cracked crucifixes are lying on the benches.
They weep, suffer and are all almost naked.
Oh! They breathe like humans in agony;
Things, they say, really have a life.
The corpses are bunglingly rotting.
The children are no longer afraid of the old people
Who died rocking on the antique armchairs, and on the chariots
Where countless clowns are squashed by the last explosion.
What a dismal hustle and bustle! What a wild hullabaloo!
The living room is a decorated cemetery.
The table is a moist and wet tabernacle
Of painful tears, precious blood and vital saliva.
The kitchen is bland, pale and innocuous.
What a disaster from the abyss to the shores!
This event has no form, no name.
This earthquake is second to none.
The students have lost everything: marbles and tokens,
Old desks and countless collections of poetry books.
This event has no form, no end.
The flowers are forlorn and the victims
Are scattered deep in the labyrinths,
Humming and singing the verses of the Antiquity.
Listen to their prayers and their complaints!
Listen to the delusions and the onomatopoeias!
We are going to bury our dead:
The old, the young and the babies.
We will bury our dead
Like degraded and desperate soldiers
Like immobile and immaculate braves.
P.S. Poem Revised For The 12th Anniversary of the 2010 Earthquake
In Haiti.
Copyright © January 2022, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.
One day we were living our normal lives
Everyone going about their business
Then all of a sudden things just changed
And we have to keep our social distance
Wash your hands and sanitize
Wear your masks and gloves too
So that this sudden thing called Covid-19
Does not get to you
Long queues of panic shoppers
People going around
Loaded trolleys full of groceries
As they prepared for the national lockdown
Stay in quarantine
Is what the lockdown is all about
We need to abide by the rules
Because we need to wipe this virus out
It is all for a good cause
To try and keep us safe
To keep the numbers from growing
To survive this crazy wave
God please be with the poor
May they have a plate to eat
As they are unable to work
And in utmost desperate need
And please be with our old people
Let them all be fine
Because they are most fragile
In this trying time
Be with all of the infected
Heal them Father one by one
I trust in You to safe our world
In the Name of the Father the Holy Spirit and Son
Bless our health and essential workers
Give them strength and extra powers
They are risking their lives
To safe all of ours
Dear fellow citizens
This is your time to help our world heal
Abide by the rules
And please remain in Quarantine
Robin Hood
It was in the time of John
In the days that have long gone
When the plight of right and wrong
A test was set
It took a man of iron will
To battle on until
A nation he would thrill
They’d ne’er forget
For John was all consumed by greed
He over taxed those most in need
Pleas of the peasants wouldn’t heed
How they’d shout
Though against his deep belief
Robin became a famous thief
To muster hope and some relief
For those without
Stepped forward Robin Hood
With his motives understood
He set out to do some good
For the poor
To his side a band of men
Some of sword and some of pen
Gathered round him, planned and then
Evened the score
High adventures, escapades
Among the woods and leafy glades
As Robin led his daring raids
He did surprise
Pouncing on the shallow rich
From every tree and bush and ditch
Relieving them of every stitch
To equalize
When the news to John was brought
He ordered Robin must be caught
Example to the people taught
To keep them bound
Soldiers he sent out in the wood
Blundered about, it was no good
No sight or sound of Robin hood
Was to be found
With a price upon his head
Wanted both alive or dead
Not a clue did one man shed
As to his lair
For all good men could plainly see
Through his selective robbery
It was the way it had to be
To make life fair
For their king old England yearned
And when at last Richard returned
He found a lesson had been learned
Of how to rule
Of your people earn their trust
Let your reign be fair and just
And remember that you must
Ne’er be cruel
Though a saint he’d never be
For he’d robbed to set men free
From the awful tyranny
Of evil John
Still he’s hard not to admire
Whether surf or land-borne squire
To his height try to aspire
Everyone
When he knew that he would die
He shot an arrow through the sky
Where it stuck he wished to lie
Next Sherwood oak
Though the truth may now be faint
And the story old and quaint
He remains a noble saint
To all good folk.
Form:
Sometime
before I was not mature enough to notice,
she began to dissolve.
Husband dead, son revolving
around one woman after another,
moving away from her fading presence.
Aware only of the ebb, and flow of her care
or interest, Distance surfacing in her eyes.
How her housecoat insulated her from
what she once loved.
When she looked at me it was through a tunnel
she had dug into her mind,
her presence muffled
as if it were now
always too cold to surface.
I should have seen the signs,
but by then I only visited
during narrow gaps in my life.
I told her to join something,
do what other old people did.
Only now do I understand
what old people do, -
they think of their parents
in threads and patchwork pieces.
I cannot recall the exact period
when the seam of strong bonds
began to unravel,
for of course,
that specific time was buried with her.
The Good Old Days
Thinking back to the beginnings of my life
Two wars America could never have won
Thousands dead more wounded as America fought for nothing
A president murdered as he waved at the people who loved him
Riots that placed whites against blacks broke out in every city
Four innocents killed in Kent for speaking their mind
Others jailed and beaten for protesting a president they thought was wrong
Free speech was only for the party in power
A wall built to separate families from ever seeing each other mocked American power
Nuclear war was less than ninety miles away while the president flexed his muscle
American missiles were stationed all across the country so we could destroy any enemy
Strikes lasted not weeks but months causing people to live in their cars
No one came to help as children starved
The president committed crimes yet was never punished
What is a crime was erased by his friend stating the president would be pardoned
That ended that
People talk about the good old days
Look at history and let me know when they were
That we can talk about the good old days and where they were hiding
My identical twin attended our fiftieth class reunion.
She looked fantastic – the best one there.
Her husband told her, my husband told her,
My daughter told her and I definitely keep telling her.
She keeps calling back to find out who else said it.
Everyone said it I tell her.
Probably behind your back.
You looked young enough to be these old people’s child.
I have not had this many phone calls from her for twenty years.
It has become a kind of joke, and fun for me
To see how happy this makes her.
I did not attend the reunion myself.
I am not going to events where people do not wear masks.
There were forty-three old people not wearing them.
That part did not look smart.