Long Raise hell Poems
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(This is a fictional poem)
My father-in-law is so old that his first friend was Barney Rubble.
When he comes to my house, he causes nothing but trouble.
I can hear him coming when I hear his old bones creak.
He pees all over himself every time he tries to take a leak.
He tries to get my wife to leave me every time he comes.
He eats all of our food and then he gets drunk on my rum.
When he visits, he gets mad and raves and rants.
I want to see the look on his face when I put a lobster down his pants.
He's coming over tonight and I'm going to break a lot of his bones.
I'm going to raise hell until he leaves me alone.
Form:
Why I Love Writing Poetry?
Did I mean why I love writing poems?
Nevertheless, I love writing poems or poetry:
To simply have fun, make others happy,
Inspire and defend others; to fan the flames
Of fairness, and to seek justice, fairness for the weak,
The innocents, the underprivileged, and the sick;
I can go on and on until I lose consciousness.
I love expressing myself with elegance and neatness.
Ordinary jerks always make fun of the Poets, that's not new;
And the Poets know darn well how to take care of them too.
Poets have thick skin; they are Heroes without fears.
They struggle, fight, write, raise hell and wipe their tears.
Sorry, if I am going astray, that's what I do best,
Sometimes, like any human being, I like to make a mess.
That's why I love writing essays, poems or poetry:
To simply have fun, and to make others happy.
At the same time, I want others to criticize, and castigate.
I make my own decisions, and can determine my own fate.
Poets have thick skin, and by nature have no fears.
Please swallow your frown, your smile, and wipe your tears.
Hebert Logerie Monday, January 26, 2015
Wavy teeth make me spank the pastor
Questioning my faith is a major disaster
Look out for me in the darkness screaming
Opened blades cut deeper than fame
Wait for me I sought your light
Moons hid you from my trusted Dog's tonight
juniper king of flawless beats
Untitled your world Kick rocks to free the beast
Madness under stary nights preach the saddness
Laying down hopes to get beamed up like scottyrr
My call sign was shut the fk up patty
room to expand creep up the chimney
spare me some change I will consume your sanity
Gooney toons trace my roots to the loony rooms
guard dog going insane catching flames embracing Odin's name
root for Kings to sing out the silence
wavy good by to the saints of peace have arrived
do you think I called the police?
I invented the pain I bleed for the streets
they called me a rat face the facts I am fatter than that
all the fame riches money hoes and nonesene means nothing but distraction
I plan to freak off the attractions
Under rules to school fools I await your home boys who think they sweet
make the sun go down that's when church is called to meet.
raise hell unforgivables
"Gonna shoot a little dice
Play a little cards
Drink a little beer
and shoot out the stars
Gonna dance with the girl in calico dress
Live to raise hell, ain't no time to rest"
Sittin' at a table playing five card draw
Losing money faster than you ever saw
I looked at the dealer said, where y'all from
He smiled real big and he pulled out his gun
He said me and my pappy and my grandpap
we all come from the Cumberland Gap
The Cumberland Gap, the Cumberland Gap
We all come from the Cumberland Gap
Well I looked at that gun, and I looked at my hand
I looked at the money and I looked at the band
The fiddle player sawing some mournful song
I'm living in this world boys, but not for long
"Gonna shoot a little dice
Play a little cards
Drink a little beer
and shoot out the stars
Gonna dance with the girl in calico dress
Live to raise hell, ain't no time to rest"
Going down Cripple Creek, going in a run
Going down Cripple Creek to have a little fun
Down on Cripple Cripple Creek the living is fast
The girls are all pretty and the money never lasts
You can have you a girl, you can have you a dance
They'll have you hitched and married if you give'em a chance
Preacher man says "son you're living wrong
Life's too short and you're doing all wrong
I said to the preacher, I know you're right,
I'm looking for a girl that can last all night.
I need to find me a bottle with something good
and get to living life the way I should
"Gonna shoot a little dice
Play a little cards
Drink a little beer
and shoot out the stars
Gonna dance with the girl in calico dress
Live to raise hell, ain't no time to rest"
No one knows how sad you are
Till it's gone way too far.
Till it comes out as anger
Then you become the monster...
Maybe, just maybe, instead of looking at me like I'm a piece of $#!^
Maybe see that my outbursts aren't just me throwing a fit.
Maybe see that all that anger has been building up from the pain I feel Till I cant handle it.
Cause instead of crying, I yell
I turn pain into anger, then I raise hell.
I can't control it, if you couldn't tell
So while I'm at it, burn the bridges, might as well.
And the only reason I stick around
Is because there's a piece of me holding on to hope
Hope that you'll someday finally see
That I don't deserve the way you've treated me
Maybe see that all this anger and rage
Has been building up from feeling so much pain
Everything that has happened keeps running through my brain
I just want to know why so I can break this chain
Cause instead of falling to pieces, I yell
I'm tired of all the lies, if you couldn't tell
It feels like everyone is under some spell
Cause when I was on the edge, you pushed, I fell
To be continued...
(Reverse poem)
it’s all my fault that our union is
without fruit.
i do not believe that
i still deserve respect as your wife.
this empty cradle is a twisting
knife in both our hearts but
I am happy to say that
I am the one who is barren, go
ahead and marry a second wife
i will never ever tell you
to go and see a fertility doctor.
I know that you fear
being judged by your family all the time.
It’s also not nice for me,
you have been a good husband to me.
I have no reason to tell you that
I regret getting married to you.
I can in all honesty say
I don’t want to wallow in the past anymore
it’s time to sow seeds for a brighter hereafter.
All I want is a stress free life
having said that,
i can’t imagine life without you…
I’d be lying if i told you that
I’ve learnt to love myself.
I’m sure by now you realise that
I’ll always place your pride above my joy.
You are wrong to assume that
I will raise hell
the next time your sister spits on my face
and calls me a mule,
I am a lot wiser and stronger now.
whenever your parents shun me
it’s water off a duck’s back for me
"One Bad Apple"
Soft cool-aid breezed in
wielding her sharp peeler
skinning the first apple
Boss girl
begins.
Stewed apples
slowly eaten
swallowed, taken in
One way out.
Boss girl
begins.
(LadyLabyrinth / 2020)
gvlm
"Raise Hell", Dorothy
https://youtu.be/cfKPobjPZSE
“She does not want the world
to tell her how to live her life.
She does not want the world
to put her into a category.
She will smile even when
not all is good with her.
She will believe
what should not be.
And she will dream wild!
She is a bird.
She just wants to fly
in the wide blue sky!”
Avijeet Das
“I am a strong girl
Someday I will win the world
Yes I will smile in the wrong time
I won't do what has to be done
Or what the world
supposes me to have done
I will just do what I want
Drop out from crowd
Pretend to fall where I don't
Smile even when not all is good
Believe what should not be
Dream wild
Look observe and not harm
Coz I just live
Let me live
Don't put me in a category
or a class
I am as light
as a glass
This world
this beautiful world
Oh how complex
has it been made by us
Just look at the bird
soaring in the blue sky
Does it even care
Does it even care?”
Suyasha Subedi
"My muse is my daughter
My strength is hers
My muse is my mother
Her strength is mine
My muse are my sisters
My strength is theirs
My muse is my soul
Our strength is eternal"
"I roared, I rampaged and I got bloody satisfaction".
Kill Bill
Excerpt, Script, Kill Bill 2
https://www.ivanachubbuck.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/Kill-Bill-2-Bill-Bride.pdf
artist/artwork: Rose Freymuth-Frazier
"One Bad Apple".
https://www.freymuth-frazier.com/
In May of seventeen seventy-nine
Henry Clinton was having a hard time,
so tired of the rebels still fighting,
had to somehow get Gorge Washington
out of the looming Hudson Highlands,
and then force the war to a final ending.
He marched his army to the north
meaning to shut down King’s Ferry,
threaten West Point and draw them out,
determined to up the ante,
no nonsense was he to bandy,
his men took Stony Point.
With the King’s Ferry now block and closed,
across the Hudson supplies couldn’t go,
Washington found himself in a hard place,
with a foothold beneath the Hudson Peaks
the British now could his main camps seek,
he could not let himself be displaced.
From atop a nearby mountain
he saw the British were building
abbatis and gun emplacements,
with scarlet the point was filling,
he knew that there’d soon be killing,
he would retake Stony Point.
But then the British made a mistake,
trying to set bait Washington would take,
sent Tyron to raid towards New Haven,
but Washington was not a damned fool,
he saw what they were trying to do,
and in the Hudson Highlands he remained.
Drew up a new plan of attack,
then Mad Anthony Wayne he called,
a general of temper and great skill,
they would see the British fort fall,
the garrison their troops would maul,
they would take Stony Point.
See when the British had fortified,
they had forgotten the river had tides,
and that a beach would soon be exposed.
It was a long shot, but one they would take,
if they could get behind the lines would break,
so only the best troops were picked to go.
No bullets would be in their guns,
stealth and steel would be their choice,
the only way they could be sure,
detection they had to avoid,
there really was no other choice
to penetrate Stony Point.
Wayne then split his forces into three
to face Britain’s seven hundred fifty
and sent Murfree to face the center,
his job was to raise hell and distract,
while to the north Butler’s troops would track,
from the south Wayne’s main force would enter.
At midnight they would all attack,
Under cover of the deep night,
white papers were stuck in their hats,
so they could see who not to fight,
bayonets set to stab and bite,
they marched for Stony Point...
CONCLUDES IN PART II
Bites of frost fierce;
iced words did pierce
flushed flesh, soft soul
chilled as you stole
youth of my life,
long lived your wife.
We wed; blissed days
blest till your craze.
Mid-age, your mess
lust for me less,
as thrills I gave
you now don’t crave.
My angst for naught
in knots of fraught
tight twist my mind,
your grit does grind
strewn tears from eyes
pain’s gems your prize
plash at your feet
my dirge does beat.
Our love I mourn
my rose your thorn,
once in sweet bloom
lies’ stench does doom.
Sprung from spouse cage
red town's your stage
to soothe your doubts
raise hell, nude bouts...
go chase young things
can’t stop your flings
we’re done, I know ~
snowed neath cold woe.
I’ve been walking for a mile
The woman stalking me has been sniffing for a while
She has become my second shadow
I hope I am not the source of her sorrow.
I quicken my steps on the quagmire of illusion
She hastens with her shadow on the plinths of delusion
One thing is sure: I’d out-walk her.
She makes her resolution as well not to remain in the rear.
Summer’s boiling breath is upon us, her and me
I thirst for solidarity with the sun and the sea
I wondered what she hungered for —bread or wine
The hays are all scorched on this tillage not far from the Rhine
I know her not from anywhere
Does she know me from any square —
Trafalgar or Madison or Time?
London and New York, in summer, raise hell and chime
I study the space between us
Not too wide as from navel to guts
The fields and their ogling lights begin to dim
I walk faster, I breathe harder, I skim
She follows up with the same verve
Through serpentine paths, I lost my nerve
But at the last corner of the woods,
Summer filtered out, summoning protocols of the hoods
I never saw her again, nor her shadow, so restless
Someone told me that was her last summer, so contentless
For me, that was indeed my first;
The first in which I skimmed over a hirst.
These, I understand, are end times
Both for festivals and serotinal matters in terms of dimes
But I mustn’t hasten through them,
Even though they cause me to run the phlegm.