He deserved, but never served
As a squid just like his dad
Well preserved, but fragile nerved
All emotions were unclad
Anxiously, he set to sea
Needing moxy really bad
Waves of three, his soul set free
Now ever a salty lad
Honest salesman is a semi-oxymoron
Just like an honest politician
Please do not laugh, all lawyers or
Accountants are not crooks. When the door
Is wide open a mouse, a rat, a cockroach
Would me more than happy to approach
Some politicians have tried to be better
And more credible. Some are men/women of honor
However, others are pathological liars
They are professionals who behave like traitors
They think that the "truth is not the truth". They're confused
Lies are lies. Dogs are dogs. Politicians play politics
Call the exterminators to annihilate the ticks
Liars always ignore the truth. Please, let's not mused
In politics, it is probably not easy to be too honest
Because so much is involved. Let's chase the pests
The corrupt politicians who are ruining everything
And destroying the dream. Let them flee. Let's ring
The bells. Not all politicians are crooked or criminals
That's true. I am not lying, just check the election polls.
Copyright © November 2018, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.
the stubborn semi stood on his head
you cannot make me go, he said to Ed
Ed was angry now, a trucker who never swore
You are a piece of work, metal scrap and more!
the town came to see the semi and gave support
he was just protesting his wages, said Uncle Mort
He has been on his head for sixteen weeks now, of course.
Ed finally left, riding away on a sad looking horse.
Conundrums heard once too often
pale, wither, turn humdrum
~ 'abc' gum
_________________________
'abc?' C'mon guys:
'already been chewed'
"semi colon"
my proctologist told me
Pluto is not a planet
but Uranus is
Grandpa and grandma formed a senior gang.
They dressed to kill with matching shirts that hang.
Logo; Old As Hell Angels.
Three heavenly archangels,
Pit stop had to make, "A Semi," they sang.
I am feeling Very spaced out Today
Twas the semi final
Coming to its end,
Three all male finalists
Bucking previous trend.
When told she was leaving
She'd stoically played her part.
Deep down she was seething
With murder in her heart.
One great yell of Banzai
One contestant dead
Felled by a heavy frying pan
Smacked across the head.
The first one down and,
With, her anger still unsated
She hid inside the grounds
And patiently waited,
Vowed to herself
She wouldn't budge
Until she'd killed
At least one judge.
The bearded bloke
Him for a start.
He'd been sarky about
Her Bakewell Tart.
Had a soggy bottom
The bastard had said.
Well he didn't laugh then
As she stabbed him dead.
The very thought
Making her merry,
She planned the demise
Of judge Mary Berry.
She laughed so much
At her planned joke
She went and had
A fatal stroke.
They covered the deaths
With a bunch of lies
And continued on
To present the prize.
For it's the baking that matters
And the tension is so thrilling
And it's not so very often,
After all, it ends up in a killing
Oh it's full of verve and passion,
You can sense the tempers rise
As they all scheme and vie for
That British Bake Off First prize.
fifty-three foot long
just a metal frame and bolts
hauling tons of goods
She was a less-than-truckload lady
Who’d signed a contract for the long haul
With the interstate driver she married.
But that trucker kept a bogus bill of lading
And a logbook full of lot lizard flings.
So now she’s rolling down the big slab
In her hubby’s bobtail bulldog,
His gooseneck flatbed stranded in the wings.
She’d just renewed her CDL for diesel;
Her unexpected dispatch wasn’t forced.
Her old man was a cracker-headed weasel.
She left him feeling semi divorced.
Semi divorced, like a rider unhorsed.
She took away his way to keep on trucking.
Semi divorced was the judgement, of course.
He fooled around with fire and got a f*cking.
What you say?
I say, he fooled around with fire and got a f*cking!
We hear dat.
The heat of the wind
in the dry semi-arid
blushing my pale face
When England play semi finals they tend to draw,
losing on penalties to teams who score more,
someone will miss one of that we are sure,
repeating the fate of the England before,
The tale of the shoot out we've had to endure,
in extra time last night Harry Kane didn't score,
but the rebound he did and the nation did roar,
missing but winning, ironic galore
Four score, nothing there
Ukraine lost the Roman hosted sporting affair
Back in London Boris raises a Saturday pint
Proclaiming success on this summer’s night
Soon the red, white boys will be coming home
Right now, Wembly is dark and alone
Waiting for Tuesday’s Spanish Inquisition
Italy goalers planning their position
But as for the Danes
Wednesday is their game
A fairy tale
Against the old guard writing the daily mail
No reason to complain
Dickens and Anderson will be talked about noting societal fame
UK will put up their best
Defending a modern-day stadium nest
While those from Denmark
Will be able to hark
Under the lights in the evening’s dark
Hollering Christian ‘we love you’
While turning Nordic Leif on Erikson too
A protagonist inside the sports book pages
Hero to those counting wages
British need to hold serve
To get what they deserve
A trip to the Championship round
And a trophy worthy of a couple pounds
Giving to the victor who wins it all
Competing in UEFA European futbol
Unbearable heat
hinterland the midday sun,
seems war forced training ...
the dreamghost
repeated motions endlessly
tasks never completed
and I am
too much and not enough
right about not quite
while others gossip
at a table
the wages of labor
the weight of our lives
headstones bearing histories
as cars on the west end pass
stories told between calls
services required
a drunken cry at midnight
mistaken as love
a long drive
over a narrow road
shimmering lakes
and a call of the woods
a poem under cover seeks
the light of expression
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