Long Standing ovation Poems
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I almost won a super bowl ring.
I almost challenged Tom Brady.
I almost was named M.V.P.
I was almost the quarterback.
I almost played football though.
Remember when I said I was going to try out?
In seventh grade?
Come on Dad!
I almost danced in the Nutcracker.
I was almost the prima ballerina.
I almost had a standing ovation.
I almost wowed the audience and received a Tony award.
I almost took those dance lessons through, right Mom?
Mom!
Didn’t I almost take dance lessons?
Remember then you said “Maybe” when I was four?
I was almost a success.
Unfortunately, my parents stood in my way.
Depression is one of those empty chairs.
Sit on a chair, empty except for my body.
I’m here!
In an auditorium.
Suddenly, there’s other people clapping all around.
Depression is one of those people.
Maybe me.
Clapping slowly, hoping no one notices.
Sit in a chair.
Everyone is clapping for me.
As I walk toward the bathroom.
Everyone is clapping for hours.
When I come back, they are still clapping in unison.
I have to go home.
Walk away, but I circle back.
Depression is one of those empty chairs.
With a spotlight on it.
I always crawl back.
Clapping more and more slowly.
As the energy rises.
Depression can only be one of us.
Sit in a chair, silently.
Although I want to shout, “That’s enough!”
While there’s a standing ovation.
Depression can only be,
A person who is slouching like me.
On this and in many occasions
We've seen him proudly display
His titles along side of his
World Championship.
Tonight he enters the ring a
Battered and Bruised man.
Allowing a non contender to
Best him, and then again being
defeated by the number one
Contender. He was battered and
bruised by the two and took the microphone
In front of an unsatisfied crowd saying it's
Obvious you all don't like me To then have
a guy who has been an upright official come in
To help him after the brawl, to pummel your
Worlds Champion who refuse any help, he wanted
To do it his self
On the gurney microphone in hand he began singing
" I saw it in her smile" to wild the bunch, he got a loud
Standing ovation, to his and the fans delight .
Tonight the Champion enters as the underdog.I have
Been told they have the video ready waiting for it to
Become official. It's believed this is the champions night
To be defeated. He is out muscled, he is out gamed, he is
Injured and wrestling in pain He can't be disqualified or counted out.
Past champions have called for him to forfeit the title and try to reclaim
It in a "rubber match" if you will, or use the series stipulation to have
him who would be champion to commit to a continuous seven series
Where the odds would be in his favored. His opponent can out wrestle him
On his best days and tonight, they say only a fool would go in
Not thinking about himself.
" I saw it in her smile
The look upon her face"
These the lyrics we have heard all evening, we just wanna know if she can dance!
Against de Slate
Reporting
. Cheese Cringe
Joins the dots Scrubs the slate
Invites the platter Lays smorgasbord
Trusts the echoes Swats at the flies
Knows it's cheese Presents as caviar
Laughs with itself Groans at moans
Means every word Tries having it on
Softens into silence Hums through hush
Trusts the audience Counts on the nods
Carries an umbrella Blames rain clouds
Loves Swiss cheese Prefers old Jarlsberg
Arrives a little early Makes bold entrance
Knows when to stop Can’t ever give it up
Risks some affection Insures for rejection
Content with a smile Wants standing ovation
Gaps between words Babbles endlessly on
Delights in the simple Over does it to death
Smiles before you do Waits for permission
Lets the jokes have air Explains the punchline
Speaks to the moment Speaks over the crowd
Welcomes an audience Counts the applause
Knows when it's smiling Says kimchi for a smile
Wears heart on its sleeve Sobs in its own elbows
Doesn't fear the eye-roll Watches raised eyebrows
Leaves gaps for wonder Fills cracks with certainty
Doesn't mind being uncool Shivers on cold shoulders
Lets the conversation finish Finishes all your sentences
Laughs well before it matters Waits until laugh-light is on
Knows the holes make cheese Plugs every hole with a mirror
Leaves before applause finishes Waits for one more curtain call
Leaf sprouts Leaf drops
Believes Deceives
Flowers Weeds
Cheese Cringe
"You completed me and made me whole; you were my light.
My darling you are within me, though I am without your tonight."
~ The Poet ~
We entered this earthly stage together many years ago.
Act one Scene one: Our love seemed “all systems go.”
You touched my heart with your soulful voice.
Ever glad you and I made the right choice.
The sight of you walking toward me on the street,
My heart pulsed with an almighty beat.
I trembled when our lips met in a passionate kiss.
That sensuous feeling, I never wanted to miss.
When you took me in your arms to hold me tight,
I experienced all the sensation of a lover’s delight.
Our bodies in slumber gently entwined.
Waking with feeling of ecstasy overwhelmed my mind.
When we laughed together it was as if we were one.
Joined in happiness having so much fun.
When you were hurt the darkest surge within me to pray.
That our dear Lord would take your pain away.
And while we are on that subject when we prayed to Him above.
I felt that oneness with you as we offered God our love.
Now it’s time for the final scene and to close the curtain,
Our play’s been a success. Standing ovation, that’s for certain.
Express yourselves unabashedly my friends
Because no one can honestly give you a grade
Write your poems with your own hands
Make them natural, beautiful and homemade.
Don’t worry about foes, faux, aliens and others
Just do what you need to do my friends
To find good, fair, impartial or sagacious readers
Be creative or innovative to embark on your own trends.
All poems are important, relevant and famous
All poems are born from a particular or divine inspiration
Be bold, brave, controversial, generous and ingenuous.
Bias exists even in literary art poetry. Ignore the laughs
Continue writing. This world is full of odds, hurdles and gaffes
Be happy! It’s needless to yearn for a standing ovation.
P.S. This poem is dedicated to my friend, Juan Felix Of Orlando and others.
Juan, I wish you a speedy recovery. You're in my thoughts, prayers and poems.
Copyright © December 2023, Hébert Logerie, all rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.
Hon, let me discribe for you education
First we begin with registration
It's the first step according
to regulations.
Identifying yourself with the
administration
and rectifying your goal of graduation.
Of course in between there will be classes
and examinations.
But every class is a step twards
matriculation.
Of course there will be some failures
and menstrations
that cause your frustrations.
But keep on striving for the day
when they say
CONGRATULATION'S
And we'll give you,
a standing ovation
( OK Gang, school is about to start and here's a new theme. Back to school poetry. this is the
first but i'm kicking it to a worthy cause. a mother trying to educate her children lets see how
she does with this. Aleera De La Keur the ball is in your court.)ps it could also be about
leaving a high school sweetheart.
The Forth of July starts with cold breakfast these days.
No work today so nothing pays.
I wanted to enjoy some burgers by the grill.
But it wasn’t working, still.
We never fixed anything from last year.
So we bought burgers for nothing, I fear.
But when I settled in at dusk.
Feeling like not much more than a husk.
I heard a “pop” in the distance appear.
Saw the first firework of the year.
People gathered outside on their patios.
Which pulled me out of my depressed throes.
My neighbor offered a hot dog he grilled.
I admit to being a little thrilled.
Gave him my patties that I didn’t get to grill up.
My friend a few doors down popped in and asked “What’s up?”
The fireworks no longer were startling anymore.
At least until the encore.
As we cheered and enjoyed the food we made together.
Started to feel a friendly tether.
And just when the last burst of color went away.
We started to chatter about our day.
And just when we ran out of conversation.
The actual last firework burst and there was a standing ovation!
The Forth of July ends with a friendly wave.
Even the children seemed to behave.
What I hate to think about the most?
Is that the day started with cold, burnt toast!
Oh Asclepius You have honored me by imparting your art. Through space and time I have come to see the lowness of man and also their majesty
Not just to hear but to listen is quickly losing its spark for each patient I see through beurecatic regulation is now merely a chart. Click all the boxes so the government implies doing all this will save your life.
Now I am stripped of all cognition for if I suggest what is not in the box I am guilty of deviation.
I miss the days were the patient could converse and tell me what is happening without some pre printed verse.
The doctor is in but you may not see him. There are PAs , NPs and scribes that wedge in between him.
Like some Kafka novel you meander through hoping that someone can help you .
Finally your time is up. The doctor you hoped to see never showed up. A prescription awaits you at the check out station. You made it, the waiting room breaks out with a standing ovation. You proudly hold you prescription up high. Thank you all and good bye .
Bull eve me (Adam, whether existence
fact or fiction),
his immediate legion heirs whole
heartedly partook
to regale no Joe king paternal prominence,
sans legendary, fraternity,
and consanguinity subsequently implemented
faux pas threatening Nittany Lions role
attested by this papa, a curmudgeon
resident of the North Pole
burrowed deep within tundra
necessitated drilling permafrost black hole
son, which boring task found me dissatisfied,
asper penultimate existential goal
thus, I decided to sell coal
to New Castle, transported
within loco motive conveyance
doubling up as fish bowl
decimated crossing Arctic
great barrier reef Atoll
lauded me with mouthy gift horses,
(one Mister Ed, adore
hubble hoof only high saddled
Equus caballus neighing boar)
feted me, a hay er raising chore
followed by Mister Barns Noble encore
generation standing ovation,
a deafening applause
resonated across the floor
then an electrifying speech
by (plan net fitness diehard) Albert Gore
describing raping, pillaging,
And looting dip lore
able incursions as heath n (moor
or less opprobrious upon poor
sacred Mother Nature
whimpering and softly doth roar
ring, now treated like a whore
telltale global devastation
impossible to ignore agog
pollution extant across
entire world wide web bog
gulls restorative legislation,
when offal debris doth clog
estuaries, where watersheds habitat
choking with despair,
thus imperative to grab hold collective
figurative (corny as this may seem) ear
cuz jackknifed, irreparable,
horrible gnashing fear
fully betokens catastrophic
environmental fractured glare
ring hooker impailment here
and everywhere.