#noel
As Christmas comes to bring us warmth
And stores pile up with gifts, that kids would have torn
By the big day of the 25th, they'll thank Santa joyfully
And remember the man birthed and sent to a death Unrighteous
We can sit in peace, bought by a man, one who understands
Our sin is not so great we need to ruin Christmas, be persistent
In seeking for a gift given free, eternity. Where you shall not find obscurity
I pray we all celebrate Christmas knowing a gift too big for our trees awaits in the sky.
Weather winter or summer, rest knowing you're safe to enjoy while you dine
Thank you Christ, Father Christ. For your truest Gift
And even when we reject it, you never hide it away
Even when we break it, burn it, try to sell it at a thrift
its eternal, and its as you say:
Romans 6:23: "For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord"
And I hope we keep you in our hearts in accord
We can never pay you back, except in our belief
To an eternal Christmas for the living and deceased.
Happy Birthday Jesus, Merry Christmas everyone
May we celebrate the one true Son.
Dec 20, 2025
Dec 20, 2025 at 3:49 PM UTC
Ok, (taking a breath) Christmas.
Finals are over, it’s the Noel Holiday and the very air-pressure feels different.
My lanky bf, Peter and I have a small, three-foot, plastic green tree which stands proudly, like a cliff-jumper, on a coffee-side-table. It’s wrapped with enough multicolor fairy-lights to illuminate Times Square.
It glitters, otherworldly, like the Carina Nebulae - where angels live.
It may be deliberately derivative, but I espouse joy this holiday - and general fun in the season. Call me privileged, call yourself the same, and declare it a blessing.
Earlier this week
all I wanted was sleep
but once freed of academic cares,
I curse sleep’s thievish minutes.
Now that I can look around - Paris is merry and bright.
The Champs‑Élysées axis is lit-up like Neverland and it’s used as a social runway.
There are cocktail evenings at the Ritz, Plaza Athénée, Le Meurice, George V, Crillon and Cheval Blanc - not a single “party” to book into, but an ecosystem of palaces crawling with ‘winter magic’ - code for quiet, exclusive, ‘famous people in the building' energy soirées.
How do you get into these private, no-tourist, DM pass-only events?
You don’t.
Oh, you might read about them if you follow the Paris nightlife Insta accounts (Silencio, Raspoutine, Castel, etc.)
But I’ll get in, because I have François for two weeks to coordinate all my ‘Christmas wishes’ (lucky him) and though he grouses from time to time, “Anais, I’m NOT a magician,” he’s never let us down.
It works like this, I’ll DM François what I want, “We’ll need 4 all‑access-passes for tomorrow night’s ‘Last Winter Tour’ (arena show) and voilà, it’s done.
Now Peter won’t go out every night, he has his own holiday ravishments planned - but isn’t that what mornings and afternoons are for?
.
.
A Christmas Playlist for this:
https://daweb.us/xmas/Christmas_29.mp3
.
.
François, one of my Grandmère’s conglomerate, executive-secretarial minions. He’s handsome, 28ish, a perfectly tailored, hipster with straight, blonde, fringe-hair and a Sorbonne Université DBA.
Dec 19, 2025
Dec 19, 2025 at 10:52 PM UTC
Days before Noël
We're ready to celebrate
With all the Poets
We ignore all the puppets
Everybody seems to be doing well
Xmas eve is a joyful and gleeful date.
Before the arrival of Xmas
It is a happy occasion for the mass
Children and adults rehearse
Everyone is athirst
Of a good time. Jesus is born
Beautiful lights sparkle on the lawn.
This is a very happy occasion
Everyone regardless of religion
Enjoys the festivities, the celebration
With a Christmas passion
Full of beauty, joy, love and benediction.
Copyright © December 2023, Hébert Logerie, all rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.
Dec 18, 2025
Dec 18, 2025 at 11:54 PM UTC
Mistletoe, Noel and Christmas go hand in hand
The eternal mistletoe and its beautiful cherries
Christmas carols and bells, bright stars and pine trees
With light snowfall can create a wonderland.
What a spectacle of lights and divine beauty
The whole world celebrates gleefully and awesomely
The birthday of Jesus Christ born in Africa
What a shock and surprise for the entire Diaspora!
Baby Jesus was different and divine, that’s why
From the crèche they wanted to immolate and crucify
Him, their goal was to **** Him like a poor goat
Which they did, but He soon returned. It’s time to gloat.
The Messiah can be a subject of controversies
Deceptions, propaganda, polemics and inconsistencies
Oh! This is Noël, let’s rejoice and enjoy the feasts
At least and at last, this is a joyous season, let’s live in peace.
Copyright © December 2022, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poetry.
Dec 18, 2025
Dec 18, 2025 at 1:15 AM UTC
Papá Noel tenía miedo de pasar el día de Navidad
En las calles de Puerto Príncipe. Las balas se disparaban en masa
Esporádicamente, al azar. Mucha gente se escondía debajo de las camas
Los terroristas traviesos son como perros, hienas en bosques viles o desiertos mortales
Están por todas partes con grandes ametralladoras que no se fabrican en Haití
Los bandidos sin ley o demonios espantosos están matando y aterrorizando a todos
Incluso gatos viejos y ratas sucias que corren por los barrancos
Las cosas son muy serias, extremadamente peligrosas y terriblemente malas en Haití
Este año, el tío Noel tenía miedo, mucho miedo, por eso no visitó
Y no pasó por las pequeñas calles de Haití. Nadie sabe cuándo
Estas cosas feas e inusuales, el caos, los crímenes, la pesadilla cambiarán o terminarán
No hubo misas de medianoche; Todas las puertas de la iglesia estaban cerradas, cerradas
Los bandidos que calzan sandalias sucias llevan armas muy caras y modernas
Que sus tíos occidentales blancos y oligarcas sucios les dieron como regalos de Navidad
Para que puedan empujar a más civiles inocentes más profundamente en las llamas del Infierno
Es muy fascinante notar que los hombres lobos, los infames Loups Garous
También tenían miedo de ir a los cementerios para desenterrar a sus víctimas inocentes
En Haití, antiguamente la Perla de las Indias Occidentales, son perros que comen perros
Son gatos que comen gatos. Son perros que comen ratas
La gente está atrapada en este otrora paraíso, la Perla de las Antillas
Que ahora es el Infierno en la Tierra y mazmorras sangrientas para tantos
Son gatos que comen ratas. Son perros que comen ratas y gatos
Esta es una locura despreciable. Frankenstein habría sido feliz allí
La gente nunca antes había experimentado un desastre tan feo. ¿Cuándo cambiará esto?
¿Cuándo terminará esto? ¿Cuándo los colonos oligárquicos, occidentales y codiciosos
Dejarán en paz al pacífico y resistente pueblo de Haití? ¿Y cuándo, cuándo?
¿Cuándo se rebelará el valiente pueblo? ¿Cuándo, maldita sea, la diáspora
Se unirá para luchar y defender a Haití? Los Haitianos están cansados de perder vidas, dinero
Territorios y propiedades en Haití. ¿Cuándo desaparecerán de la faz del Universo
Todos estos terroristas rebeldes? Estoy gritando furioso
Maldita sea, te estoy hablando a ti. Te estoy hablando a ti, maldita sea
Te estoy hablando a ti, sí, sí, sí a ti, criminales violentos
Cucarachas, pájaros impíos, hipócritas malvados y tontos ignorantes
Deja de hablar de revolución. Usa el sentido común. Deja de soñar
Abre los ojos. Sí, porque en nombre de Iahvé, te estoy hablando a ti también
Papá Noel, Père Noël, Tonton Nowèl tenía miedo. No hay pobres ni gente pequeña
No recibieron regalos, nada, cero, chivatos, sólo los sórdidos perpetradores
Que matan y aterrorizan a los ciudadanos, estaban de fiesta. La débil Policía
El ejército y los indefensos vacacionistas de la ONU no pueden hacer más
Simplemente pueden hacer menos. Sabemos que Haití no es Ucrania
Pero Haití necesita ayuda. Los Haitianos están desesperados, los nefastos presidentes
Del CPT ganan mucho dinero, mucho dinero, mucho dinero, mucho dinero
Y mucho dinero, los infames que están en el poder, reciben mucho dinero
Estos traidores están defendiendo sus bolsillos, no la patria
No protegerán a la gente inocente, no defenderán a Haití
Los bandidos, terroristas, hipócritas y oligarcas codiciosos están al mando
Los grupos criminales están dispersos ubicuamente en los pasillos, por todas partes
El pequeño Jesús no fue a Haití, él también tenía miedo. Santa Claus no vino
Tenía miedo naturalmente. Pensemos, pensemos profundamente
Resistamos y soñemos hasta la primavera.
P.D. Este poema está dedicado a todos los que sufren en Haití.
El pueblo haitiano y la diáspora están cansados de ser humillados. Abajo la miseria,
La inseguridad, la corrupción, el crimen, la injusticia, la impunidad, la discriminación y la desigualdad.
Esta es una traducción de ‘Pè Nowèl Te Pè Pase Nan Pòtoprens, Ayiti’,
“Santa Claus Was Afraid to Pass Through Port-au-Prince, Haiti’.
Copyright © Diciembre 2024, Hébert Logerie, Todos los derechos reservados
Hébert Logerie es autor de varias colecciones de poemas.
Jan 5, 2025
Jan 5, 2025 at 2:35 PM UTC
Papa Noël was afraid to pass through on Christmas Day
In the streets of Port-au-Prince. Bullets were being fired in droves
Sporadically, haphazardly. Many people were hiding under beds
Naughty terrorists are like dogs, hyenas in vile forests or deadly wilderness
They are everywhere with big machine guns which are not made in Haiti
The lawless bandits or God-awful devils are killing and terrorizing everyone
Even old cats and ***** rats that are running in the ravines
Things are very serious, extremely dangerous and awfully bad in Haiti
This year, Uncle Noël was scared, very afraid that's why he failed to visit
And to pass through the tiny streets of Haiti. Nobody knows when
These ugly and unusual things, chaos, crimes, nightmare will change or end
There were no holy midnight masses; all the church doors were shut, closed
The bandits who wear filthy sandals carry very expensive and modern weapons
That their white uncles and ***** oligarchs gave them as Christmas gifts
So that they can drive more innocent civilians deeper into the fires of Hell
It is very fascinating to notice that the werewolves, the infamous Loups Garous
Were also afraid to go to the cemeteries to unearth their innocent victims
In Haiti, formerly Pearl of the West Indies, It's dogs eating dogs
It's cats eating cats. It's dogs eating rats
People are stuck in this once paradise, Pearl of the Antilles
Which is presently Hell on Earth and ****** dungeons for so many
It's cats eating rats. It's dogs eating rats and cats
This is a despicable madness. Frankenstein would have been happy there
People have never experienced such ugly mess before. When will this change
When will this end? When will the oligarchic, western and greedy settlers
Leave the peaceful and resilient people of Haiti alone? And when, when
When will the brave people revolt? When, **** it, will the Diaspora
Unite to fight and defend Haiti? Haitians are tired of losing lives, money
Territories and properties in Haiti. When will all these unruly terrorists
Disappear, vanish on the face of the Universe. I'm shouting angrily
You, **** it, I'm talking to you. I'm freaking talking to you
I'm ******* talking to you, yes, yes, yes to you, violent criminals
Cockroaches, ungodly birds, wicked hypocrites and ignorant fools
Stop talking about revolution. Use common sense. Stop dreaming
Open your eyes. Yes, for in the name of Yahweh, I'm talking to you too
Santa Claus, Père Noël, Tonton Nowèl was afraid. No poor and little people
Received no gifts, nothing, zero, nitch, only the greedy perpetrators
Who **** and terrorize the citizens, were celebrating. The weak Police, the feeble
Army and the helpless UN vacationers can't do more; they can simply do less
We know that Haiti is not Ukraine, yet Haiti needs help. Haitians are desperate
The nefarious CPT presidents make big moollah, big dough, big gourds, big bucks
And big money, the infamous ones who are in power, receive a lot of money
These traitors are defending their pockets, not the homeland
They won't protect the innocent people, they won't defend Haiti
The bandits, terrorists, hypocrites and greedy oligarchs are in command
Criminal groups are scattered ubiquitously in the corridors, all over, everywhere
Little Jesus didn't go to Haiti, he was scared too. Santa Claus didn't come
He was scared naturally. Let's think, think deep, resist and dream until spring.
P.S. This poem is dedicated to all who are suffering in Haiti.
The Haitian people and the Diaspora are tired of being humiliated. Down with misery,
Insecurity, corruption, crime, injustice, impunity, discrimination, and inequality.
This is a translation of ‘Pè Nowèl Te Pè Pase Nan Pòtoprens, Ayiti’.
Copyright © December 2024, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.
Dec 31, 2024
Dec 31, 2024 at 2:26 PM UTC
Papa Nowèl te pè pase sou Chanmas
Nan lari Pòtoprens. Bal tap tire an mas
Tout kote. Anpil moun sere anba kabann
Teroris yo kwè chyen nan yon move savann
Yo tout kote ak gwo zam ke yo pa fabrike an Ayiti
Bandi yo ap touye e terorize tout moun
Mèm vye chat ak rat kap kouri nan ravinn
Bagay yo grav e danjere nan peyi Dayiti
Tonton Nowèl te pè se sak fè kel pat pase
Ane sila. Pèsonn moun pa konn kilè ke
Bagay sa, dezòd, krim, kanaj sa yo ap chanje
Fini. Pate gen mès minwi, tout pòtt legliz te fèmen
Bandi ak sapat yo gen gwo zam ki trè chè
Ke tonton blan yo bayo kòm kado Nwèl
Pou pèp la ka al kreve pi fon nan lanfè
Sak pi rèd djab sal ak vye san pwèl
Pè al nan simetyè pou al leve moun ke
Yo te touye. Se chyen manje chyen
Se chat manje chat. Se chyen manje rat
Moun antrave nan peyi sila. Se chat
Manje rat. Se chyen manje rat ak chat
Sa se laraj. Moun pa janm te konn tande
Vye istwa sa yo. Kilè ke bagay sa ap fini, chanje
Kilè ke kolon oligaka, loksidan e sanzave
Sa yo ap kite ti pèp la an repo e kilè
Ke ti pèp la ap revolte, kilè, fout kilè
Dyaspora a fatige pèdi lajan ak propriete
Nan peyi sa. Kilè ke tout teroris sa yo
Ap disparèt. Map fout rele anmwey. Yo
You, map pale ak ou. I’m talking to you
Map fout pale ak ou, wi ak ou
Kokorat, zwazo mechan, ipokrit, sanzave
Pa fout pale de revolisyon. Sispann reve
Ouvri je nou. Wi map pale ak ou tou
Pè Nowèl te pè, oken malere e ti moun
Pat resevwa oken kado sèl move moun
Kap touye e terorize pèp la tap fete. Lapolis
Lame ak nèg Loni yo, se kòm si ke yo paka fè plis
Se mwens ke yo fè sèlman. Nèg CPT yo touche
Gwo lajan, sak nan pouvwa resevwa anpil lajan
Nèg yo ap defann pòch, yo pap defann Patri
Yo pap pwoteje pèp, yo pap defann Ayiti
Ikrèn resevwa gwo kado, gwo zetrenn
Ayiti resevwa gwo anbago, wi nou konprann
Bandi, teroris, gangstè, loksidan ak olygaka ap vale tèren
Gwoup kriminèl yo ap mennen
Ti Jezi pat ale an Ayiti, li te pè. Papa Nwèl pat pase
Li te pè natirèlman. An nou panse, reflechi anpil jisko printan.
P.S. This poem is dedicated to all who are suffering in Haiti.
Pèp Ayisyen ak dyaspora a bouke pran imilasyion. Aba la mizè, insekirite
koripsyion, krim, injistis, inpinite, diskriminasyon, e inegalite.
See translation of ‘Santa Claus Was Afraid to Pass Through Port-au-Prince, Haiti’.
Copyright © Desanm 2024, Hébert Logerie, Tout dwa rezève
Hébert Logerie se otè plizyè koleksyon powèm.
Dec 31, 2024
Dec 31, 2024 at 1:30 AM UTC
I am dreaming of a pitch-black Christmas night
Tonight, where the jolly stars can easily be seen
In the sky. From afar, the moon is clear and bright
And the clouds create a wonderfully divine scene.
I am dreaming of a dark black and arctic Noel night
Where all babies experience and see while asleep
The jamboree that I'm enjoying under the beam light
Of a flying sleigh. What I am saying is incredibly deep.
When the sky is pitch-black, there's always a party in Heaven
The angels wear an array of colors with their Sunday best
God sits atop, right in the middle of the feast in Eden.
I'm dreaming of a marriage between darkness and brightness
Where there is no evil, there is no Hell in man's consciousness
I‘m not sleeping but I'm dreaming like Baby Jesus in the nest.
Copyright © December 2019, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several poetry books.
Dec 23, 2024
Dec 23, 2024 at 7:15 PM UTC
Christians are happy
That Jesus Christ came on Earth
To save everybody.
Copyright © December 2023, Hébert Logerie, all rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.
Dec 23, 2024
Dec 23, 2024 at 7:07 PM UTC
Sueño con una Navidad correcta y alegre
Nunca sueño con una Navidad blanca o nevada
Es muy resbaladizo y traicionero cuando nieva
Para ir a la iglesia uso zapatos de cuero
Y es fácil caerse y lastimarse
No quiero romper tu corazón
Al decir que esa blanca Navidad
No es un momento divertido o alegre. Pero la misa de medianoche
Por supuesto, es un momento feliz. Me encantan los villancicos
La música góspel, las decoraciones y cuando doblan las campanas
Me encanta una Navidad cálida y alegre en el estado del sol, en Florida
Donde sea seco, atractivo y agradable. Es como tener una cita
Con la Madre Naturaleza. El clima no es malhumorado ni sombrío
Los niños juegan con sus regalos y todos parecen felices
No sueño con una Navidad blanca o nevada
¡Oh, Jo, Jo, Jo! Me encanta una Navidad correcta y alegre.
PD. Traduccíon de ‘ A Right And Jolly Christmas’ por Hébert Logerie
Copyright © diciembre de 2023, Hébert Logerie, Todos los derechos reservados.
Hébert Logerie es autor de varias colecciones de poemas.
Dec 23, 2024
Dec 23, 2024 at 10:35 AM UTC
I dream of a right and jolly Christmas
I don’t dream of a white or snowy Christmas
It’s very slippery and treacherous when it snows
To go to church, I wear leather shoes
And it’s easy to fall and get hurt
I don’t want to break your heart
By saying that white Christmas
Isn’t a fun or joyful time. But Midnight Mass
Is of course a joyous time. I love the Xmas carols
The gospel music, the decorations and when the bell tolls
I love a warm and holy jolly Christmas in the sunshine state
Where it’s dry, inviting and nice. It’s like being out on a date
With Mother Nature. The weather is not crabby or gloomy
The children are playing with their gifts and everybody seems happy
I don’t dream of a white or snowy Christmas
Oh ** ** ** I love a right and jolly Christmas.
Copyright © December 2023, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.
Dec 23, 2024
Dec 23, 2024 at 10:31 AM UTC
The nonstop negative news or publicities on Haiti
Hurt tremendously and disturbingly
The relentless or constant bashings of all Haitians
Twinge and twist my heart like cancer patients
On their death beds, who are resigned, hopeless
Penniless, helpless, and spiritless.
Haiti needs a mega break from all the powerful parasites
That are still exploiting our precious resources at countless sites
While concomitantly exploring and impoverishing our peasants
Our innocent siblings who perilously work for crumbs and cents.
It is time that all truths are spoken or be told
It is time that we unearth, unfurl or unfold
All vile plots so the world can witness the premeditated lies.
Papa Noël is a well designed invention in disguise
At Christmas time, the hurts are excruciating
And the misery is objectionable and nauseating.
Copyright © December, 2021, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.
Dec 20, 2024
Dec 20, 2024 at 2:49 PM UTC
My favorite gifts were all from Christ the Lord:
The midnight Scrabble game where U and I
Were side by side and face to face and high
On Christmas Spirit, cherishing the Word;
That great game of Oahu that I won;
That great game of Oahu that I lost;
The time I spent pretending to be Frost
Seeking a rime and landing on a pun;
The yummy apple pie perfectly baked,
Second to ̶M̶a̶r̶t̶h̶a̶ ̶S̶t̶e̶w̶a̶r̶t̶'̶s̶ none, and made with TLC;
The morning coffee brought to me at 3
P.M. by her who kissed me as I waked.
My favorite gifts have everything to do
With, Bethany Elvira Vitters, _you!_
Dec 28, 2023
Dec 28, 2023 at 3:20 PM UTC
Oasis
Noel sits
focused
and strums
and picks guitar
a masterpiece
awakening
within his mind
within his soul
one that will
live forever
while Liam prowls
and hangs
monkey like
his hair and
beard are long
his beady eyes alive
each a spark
each a light
that sometimes
comes to blows
and fights
I shut my eyes
and listen
no other sound
compares
Apr 23, 2019
Apr 23, 2019 at 6:45 PM UTC
Touring the cities of England and the UK
Back of a transit van, rocking up to anywhere that paid
The brothers Grimm and their trusty cohorts
Bonehead on rhythm, McCarroll on drums, Guigsy up to all sorts
That gig at the Wah Wah, King Tuts to be precise
Glasgow you beauty, **** the next show up in Fife
The man that found them, a mister Alan McGee
A Britpop revolution, all great memories
They came and most failed, that one gig on Top of The Pops
Menswear to Mansun and an array of rank haircuts where the seagulls did flock
We had the trendies in Camden all hanging around on their scooters with parka’s
Noel or Liam and that fella from Echobelly, anything to be famous and get on the telly
But then the times must end and it all turned a little sour
A few trudged on with an album or two, the Manics to Cast and the lyrics from John Power
Patsy and Liam had that cover on the front of Vanity Fair
Draped in Britannia, divorce on the cards, strange how no-one now cares
Good times they were without a worry in the world and a now gone era
Euro 96, Southgate’s miss and those goals from Teddy and Shearer
A time well remembered and days I’d love to see back
If not only for the music but for the not caring and the unforeseen great craic
Not to hate the now as times move on
But a day in the past, served at seventeen and to claim you were the one
Not to be asked I.D. and sneakily drink that Stella
laughing at the bar, king of the blaggers, not to be served again by that same fella
Before the phone and the apps, we used to meet face to face
Girl at the bar, a bit of blarney and a home number to suit, always up for the chase
Do you ring tomorrow and who’s going to answer
Her mum might be alright, but her dad could be a ******
I couldn’t imagine doing it all again now
Swipe left to say no or right to give it a go
Seems inhuman to me not to spark up a chat
But maybe that’s just me, stuck in past, I’m just old hat.
JJB
Feb 2, 2018
Feb 2, 2018 at 10:02 AM UTC
you don't dare
unwrap the real gift
hidden under layers of hype
too hard to discover it
beneath mounds of plastic
under the glare of neon
falsities projected
aimlessly scrolling away your soul
Godless Yuletide
Christless Noel
sterile feigned joy
useless worthless feelgood frenzy
sentimental superficiality
televised consumer fables
cute trendy on the screen
market-driven fakeries of fake snow
Mammon's medicated stress-fest
passive-aggressive goodwill
American commercialism
angelic Antichrist malls of lost souls
waiting for the next explosion
trying hard to feel the warmth
in the winter chill
of hearts hardened
against the Christ
of Christmas
unwrap the past
to find the present
in your sold-out future
Christ is Lord
Dec 24, 2016
Dec 24, 2016 at 3:41 PM UTC