Another huge turkey was caught
The big pheasant was housed in the vault
For consumption
Not for admiration
I'm neither talking about the wild turkey
Who’s running for President
Nor the one which is a country
Now embroiled
And roiled in turmoil
I am talking about the noisy pheasant
That we all like to fest on the last Thursday
Of November every year, and on New Year’s Day.
I can’t wait to enjoy its thighs and wings
I can’t wait afterwards to make the swings
Squeak and cry, because we all weigh more
Than before: the skinny, the rich and the poor.
Happy Thanksgiving Day everybody
The President already pardoned a gorgeous turkey.
Hebert Logerie Wednesday, November 25, 2015
~Quince shaped houses landscape Julienned Street
where citric groans once molded a blue cheese night ~
In one home lives reclusive Graham and his wife, Coco,
two dilled, old pickles nervously living on the lamb.
Busted selling urine for addiction pee tests,
they agreed to flee from a legal barbeque.
Combining their bran, they landed on Julienned.
They peppered with fright when a repair man
fell down, done, dead and fried on their hall floor.
Even freaked, they managed to fully bake a plan.
They dragged his body with mixed moans and groans
to the cellar, filleted him and then designated
him the residents permanent cellar staple.
Here comes Autumn;
Clothes of wool fabric, no more cotton.
The only pumpkin-spiced latte season,
Makes coffee taste good for a reason.
Crusty and dry brightly-coloured leaves,
Fall off the trees in heaps.
As daylight hours reduce,
Fruits and vegetables ripen, increasing the farmers’ produce.
The spooky time of the year,
Halloween, finds children in fear;
As they trick-or-treat their candy,
Dressing up in costumes comes in handy.
Thanksgiving, too, brings people together,
During the time of cooler weather;
Making Fall,
The most inviting season of all.
If we had black stars on a whitened day, we would have a peppered sky
Fresh fish garnished with pepper,
Pepper and spices,
Smeared with brush strokes on the fish,
It can be foil-wrapped,
Or placed directly
Over heat,
Plunge!
June 23, 2022.
Your love is a cure to my fever
No lies said,you cure my malaria
you're my doctor's prescription
3 times a day, relieving me of my hurt heart commotion.
I want to love you
i want to make love to you
giving you pleasures you don't anticipate
suckling in sheer excitement, you won't hesitate.
I want to kiss your head
giving you confidence, so don't be scared
i want to kiss your lips
with your eyes closed and my hands on your sensuous hips.
I want to sensitise your thigh
send sweet sensation, make you high
i want my arm to roam the dangle of the twin mountain on your chest
killing all your doubt as if they're pest.
My love is not one devoid of emotion
i shall love you for you're my priceless possession
don't nurse any confusion
for my love is spiced with emotion.
The rock that to the climber reaches out with
jagged arms
And to the sore foot of a traveler turns a tough
rough back
Holds within its harshness
The promise of swift marches
To they who aspire towards its summit.
And to each of them it someday proves
That in the roughness of the way lies the
smoothness of the journey—
For only amid coarseness can footholds form
And only to jagged rock can a grip bond fast.
It‘s the same with the affairs of men:
They who walk us on oiled paths,
Who smooth the way to soothe our soles,
Soon see their care turn to a scare
When upon its glossy form no crack is revealed
where seeds of hope may lodge
Nor any gaping holes seen through which golden
beams may slip and light the darkness ahead.
For fortune draws her breath through cracks
That make coarse the route
That to success leads—
Cracks that soothe our soles with spiced pains,
The pains that herald victory
Which barren comforts bear not.
Double hitting flame
Golden substance pouring out
A friend’s warm welcome
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