"haitian" poems
I'll study the demise in your eyes and wonder if there was ever a time that you cried
For your loss.
I'll copy and trace the structure of your face and realize that
I am you.
Then I will show you a picture of my Dad and tell you but
This
Is my father.
Your genome may construct the structure of my bones but
I am his daughter.
And I am my mother
And I wonder, if you'll find it any if at all meaningful-
When I look you in the eyes and ask you
How someone so ugly
Can create something so beautiful.
When God created you,
He created the creation of me
And all I know about my identity is that I'm half Haitian
But that limb fell off from my family tree.
I pray
That God finds it in his heart to love you
Because God doesn't love the ugly.
Fortunately,
My skin may be tinted from the sins that make me your kin
But from the outside in
I look just like my mother.
Do you remember what she looks like?
My name is Rissa Ann Perkins, and I hope that you can't sleep tonight.
I hope that you frame a photo of my face in your brain
And if ever again should you dream,
I hope you wake up screaming my name.
Are you ashamed?
I'm not here to blame you
I came to show you
Just. How. Beautiful. I. Am.
And I just have to know what it feels like
To know that
I
Am you.
You gave me life.
I am you,
And I don't even love you.
So I have to know,
Do you love yourself?
Jan 31, 2013
Jan 31, 2013 at 3:46 PM UTC
Crisp white waiters serve you smiles in Haitian time
Going native on Saturday night with Lambi Creole
Ti Coca rhythm band beats the music of tonight
Running fast will be a heart attack in this old town
Red neck cops dine with plain Jane UN girls
Touch in weekend lust and hopeful smiling eyes
Local white eyes shine in contrast colourful love
Slow down chill out and move to the music now
Pétionville to Paris seems a million miles away
A tense post-carnival gloom sets into Cité Soleil
As naked kidnap victim runs free in desperation
Different worlds in this blinkered rain-soaked town
Nov 25, 2012
Nov 25, 2012 at 9:31 AM UTC
sugared fingers, the smell of Chanel
and I am flushed on red berry wine
and the charms of someone, dear,
who I would like to call "Valentine"
la vie en la rose
this red stains lips pink and
I see in pink, everything around me
as I dip my nose to my wrists, inhaling
*Sicilian oranges, Calabrian bergamo
Indonesian patchouli, Haitian vetiver
Bourbon vanilla andd white musk*
I giggle coquettishly and I am blushing,
For these sweet nothings
mean very much to me
May 16, 2013
May 16, 2013 at 1:50 PM UTC
Haitian style independence
no more whiteness at all
type independence
playing three rhythms at once
independence
blackness take over the entire
American sports and political world
independence
Went south to join the Seminoles
fight against the colonists
killer abolitionists
dangerous and feared
independence
economic
the beginning of the union
no more free labor
regulate that
government
paper bag 40 acres
and we are not ******* mules
independence
organized black militants killing
burning plantations of whiteness
yearning independence
captivating white audiences
nationwide
scurrying to the legal system
to constrict the laws
make more weapons
make more conflict
make it more dangerous to be black
independence
You will never find us again
whiteness
that independence
Jul 5, 2016
Jul 5, 2016 at 1:46 PM UTC
Haitian Divorce
in the warmth of the tropical sun
sipping zombies by the Caribbean Sea
Samuel and Daisy fell in love
dancing the merengue
they fell into each others arms
an affair to remember for all time
they decided to get married
there just wasn't any other way
the bliss lasted for many weeks
the kisses grew sweeter it seemed
but out of the blue a comment was made
and the sniping got heavier each day
he would shout she would bite
it went on like this every night
until the kisses completely stopped
they had nothing more to say
it was so much more than thought
they decided to end it well
a little trip to the islands once more
hurry now no more delay
they raised their glasses one last time
there would be no remorse
staring out at the churning sea
they celebrated their Haitian Divorce
Gomer Lepoet...
May 5, 2013
May 5, 2013 at 7:41 PM UTC
patterns reflect patterns reflect history repeating itself
I see problems in humanity because humanity corrupts
seriously, we can't have a movement for "better" without making it worse
listen, slavery, right?
whites hated blacks
deemed them lesser
deemed them nobodies, nonexistent
that's putting it generic
so what do we have now?
an era of white-haters!
so many "minorities" standing up and saying
"I hate the whites"
we have done a 360 and it kills me
it was supposed to be about blacks being seen as equals
being seen as people instead of blacks
and now, yeah, I'm going there
gays
I love gays, man
but y'all are killing me too
this is what I see
gays oppressed, dismissed, told they're sinners
unholy, bad, gross, wrong, backwards, ugh
they were beaten, bloodied, bruised, murdered, silenced
so the gays stand up
what do I hear?
"I hate Christians"
"I hate straights"
"I hate everyone who is not gay"
people hating on macklemore because
he tried to stand up
for THE PEOPLE!
they say
"a straight white man cannot represent the gay community"
I'm sorry
WHAT????
we act like no one has gone through HARDSHIP
we act like if you're white, straight, and a male, you're golden
free
happy
perfect
wake up.
what no one discusses
is that the issue is right vs wrong
right vs wrong
right vs wrong
I'm not a straight white male but I know right vs wrong
I'm not an Irish Jew but I know right vs wrong
I'm not a Haitian Creole Indian goddess but I know right vs wrong
you don't have to BE the oppression to SPEAK on the oppression
you have to know right vs wrong
I say macklemore knows
I know
you know
let's speak up
what is wrong is discrimination
what is right is taking a stand to end it
so please
blacks,
gays,
minorities,
whites,
humans,
majorities,
stop obliterating good
or else you'll be confined to the chains of oppression and silence until the day you die and so on amen
I'm a human being
tell me what I cannot speak on
Sep 10, 2014
Sep 10, 2014 at 5:06 AM UTC
Green peppers
Red peppers
Onions
and shallots
Get ready for some intense flavor to hit your pallets
A splash of vinegar
Salt
Chives
And garlic
Your tongue will dance for joy and actually seem to frolic
Epis
Sos Pwa
Rice
And baked chicken
The taste buds in your mouth wont know what hit them
Four hours later and I've enriched in my culture
I'm almost like a new woman
Because today I learned to cook food from my parents native nation
The time and effort was so very worth it
And now I feel a little bit more Haitian
Apr 9, 2014
Apr 9, 2014 at 12:01 PM UTC
the ballad is is my ears
and the girl is naked infront of me
the night dosnt care
grind honey just stand there and grind it for me honey
a thousands shadows in my eyes
iv died a thousand deaths just today
and they all were just in the passing rain
im a troubled man
allways made the wrong turn
always got myself in too deep and had a blade to the ready
but thats all history babe
i can breath this f@#%in soup they call air down here!!!!
oh man the sun is out and its in your eye lover
and there is nothing but joy in my heart
theres nothing on my face but
the smile you left there inbetween the sheets this moring
so dont f@%k yourself in your thoughts baby
we are gonna be allright
we are gonna take on and conquer this old world
we are gonna be forever babe
we are gonna be just fine
Jun 7, 2013
Jun 7, 2013 at 9:17 PM UTC
I want to know more than one
Haitian
I want to know more than three
Jamaicans
I want to meet Nigerians that speak
Igbo
Kenyans that laugh at the Swahili I learned in Berkeley
Ugandans that correct my Mandarin
Tanzanians that teach me how to say it in Cantonese
I want to tour the holy city Ile-Ife
trace the pilgrimage path of Mansa Musa
then circle back to Timbuktu
See the reminders of Aksum
See the remainders of Kmt
Touch the Earth and envision the buildings that my ancestors constructed
thousands of years before they were invaded thousands of times
leaving the still standing walls that others never believed were thousands of years old
till their, “science” said so
I want to board a barge in the south and flow north with the Nile
I wonder what eight others will join me
I want to walk the same trail
that was the first trail
compare my foot print
to the first foot print
The vision I see
The things I want to do
The escape I want to take
Isnt one that is new
Its one that is old
so old that its in the blood
in the very fabric and design
of all that claim
Human
What I want is a realization
no
a reawakening
of my genetic inheritance
of my ancestral birthright
What calls me is the land so old
its true name
its original tongue
is the only
can only
be labeled
The First
There
that is what calls to me
There
that is what pushes me
that is the very intangible force that pulsates my heart
pumping the blood through my veins
That place that is forever older than old
yet
In a constant state of
Reconstruction
Recreation
Revelation
Renovation
Revitalization
Revolution
I want to breath the air in that place that is always in a state of newness
I want to feel the frequency in that place
where there are as many words for new
as there are people to speak them
That is the place
That is the space
That is
© Christopher F. Brown 2015
Nov 27, 2015
Nov 27, 2015 at 11:36 AM UTC
Volcanic eruption
corruption
unemployment
recession, depression
Iraq, Iran, Afghanistan
Earth quakes
rumbles
Wall Street crumbles
Haitian children wail
tidal waves prevail
Global warming
fiction or warning?
Taxes, health care
how to handle
the next scandal
Hawaiian birth
takes precedence
over incidents. Coincidence?
Arizona immigration
discrimination
Oil spill
of gigantic proportions
contortions
in the Gulf
causing strife, ending life
Bomb in Times Square
where? not here!
just sit and sip your beer
watch the world go by
with a wink and a sigh!
Sometimes we are powerless
nothing we can do
our head in the sand,
don't understand
not care, or dare
to question?
What is our place
in this space
our destiny and fate
to help our world continue on
so our children can survive?
The world is spinning out of control
Iraq, Iran, Afganistan
Quakes, Rumbles, Crumbles
Global Conservation, Preservation
Distortions, Contortions
Bombs and Beer
Dare to Care
Frenzied
© 2010 Marlene Dunham
May 22, 2010
May 22, 2010 at 8:46 PM UTC
I bet her boyfriend
Of almost two years
Wouldn't care
For the flirting,
An open seat
On a bus to DC
Has got her skirting
The edge of
Polite conversation,
Threatening to fall
With insinuating smiles
Like private Pile,
If only he knew
How many miles
Have been spent
Laughing at jokes
And breathing the sweat
Ripe with pheromones
And flashing white teeth,
With a subtle groan
He'd pick up his phone
And give her a call
With his stomach
Feeling like a stone
Thrown in a well,
But he doesn't know,
And she won't tell,
So while he's waiting
At the bus station
For her to arrive,
She's necking with
A Haitian
And thinking of lies
To deny the fire
Between her thighs.
Sep 3, 2012
Sep 3, 2012 at 10:58 PM UTC
From marble and granite to steel and glass,
we were discussing Rhina Espaillat’s On the Avenue in class,
was it 1950s or 1980s NYC and were the fifties
the city’s halcyon days or is it now, the 2020s,
the boroughs teeming with immigrants
from the round earth’s imagined corners,
Hasidim and Muslim, Haitian and Russian, as we
Italians and Irish in an earlier era were. Everything will
be ok or not, the recombinations which make
prediction and intuition fortunately hopeless
and each individual an experiment gone well or wrong.
On the avenue God speaks by spewing
toy and clothing stores, breakdancers and ice skaters,
the Brooklyn Navy Yard seen from the Brooklyn Bridge,
the skyline admired when my car broke down on the Triborough Bridge.
The numbers of us overwhelm, there exist powers
overwhelming for the human body and mind.
I don’t mind but I can’t make sense of it.
Gandhi said What you do may not seem important
but it is very important that you do it. By that what is meant?
Linda complained Why does God always have to be a man?
I replied He could be a she but She’s probably really
a Tyrannosaurus rex. I like to be in America!
Oct 26, 2021
Oct 26, 2021 at 7:21 AM UTC
Incantation
Strange was the night the harvest moon would serve as the pumpkin dark foreboding grips his heart as he walked what evil brewed
There were those recurring stories they were filled with mist had a groggy affect you slipped between the calm to the terrifying
Was it true did it really happen he was set to find out he always fancied himself as an investigator one who could probe the stewed
First he must find his way into the incandescing glow there he would separate fact from fiction at the very door of Haitian voodoo
He was set to meet Papa Legba he was in the form of an old man the gate keeper to the spirits and their world nonsense or truth
An old grass shack was where he had been instructed to go he entered saw a few ceremonial items setting on a crude altar
One thing for sure this god was not rich but devilment requires not earthen wealth but the souls of it followers behold the sooth
This babbler this one who transfixes minds on moon lit nights weaves the web no one will ever escape from and why would they
Come to this foreign chasm an opening that invites ever yawning behold its misteh mysteries dare not be afraid you will be wise
Here the weak are made strong the dead assist the living feel the cold clammy hand that desires to engulf you just surrender
The candles they will bring bondje or bon diea French for good god see him coming from the water under the sea oh great one rise
Tell us your humble servant what to do to own the night never to be frightened again by any circumstance you are foresworn as victor
Get on with it face your enemies send forth the vestiges of confusion the essence of delusion they will unknowingly do your bidding
It comes like a tidal wave the power oh what sway it holds you in its dark embrace moods enliven oh how it pervades stunning
There are no bounds no end this was what you were created for rifle the world all contents of moral chains forgotten are you kidding
One small thing our agreement has a catch put forth your hand the ceremonial knife must sacrifice tonight I’m the only one here nooo
Voodoo has mystery one to die for look well into your own soul on this evil Halloween night
Jan 1, 2012
Jan 1, 2012 at 5:37 PM UTC
Teacher preacher while I have your attention can you please take a seat
Teacher preacher I need an explanation
I'm not allowed to think and I feel like a patient
Teacher preacher how do you expect me to sit and listen
When earlier this morning mom and dad were arguing in the kitchen
Teacher preacher I haven't learned anything new since the fourth grade
All this time, I swear it seems like my consciousness is starting to fade
The **** you teach us doesn't even matter
Long as we graduate, go to college, climb the ladder
But without your full attention our entire future will shatter
Teacher preacher you're supposed to be here to shape my mind
Teacher preacher it's time to take a step back and let me shine
Teacher preacher I've had a rough day
But you yell at me when I try to hide in my hats shade
Teacher preacher these are the last words on the page
Teacher preacher I'm your puppet and this is your stage
No wait back up ...
I need to clean my act up
Come Sunday in walking at graduation
When last Sunday I was selling good Haitian
But a gun to the head will **** with you respiration
You don't need the money just quit that desperation.
Capitalism
Take take take
**** with the come up
They find you in that lake lake lake
But excuse my attitude
What would you do when your role models was drug dealers
And Hug stealers
And plug kneelers
And wig splinters
And
As the time passes I'm tired of making momma cry
As the time passes I'm tired of being that guy
But hate to see my family struggle
In twenty years probably look back on this and force a chuckle
But once and for all for all the people that doubted me
**** YOU
come Sunday it's my stage
And all my success is written on that page
May 19, 2016
May 19, 2016 at 2:03 PM UTC
"All lives matter!"
...Yelled the Jew before he entered the burner..
Said the slaves, marching with Turner..
murmured, the young Aztec girl ***** by a pervert..
sobbed, the young Taliban, in the shop where they lured her.
All lives matter,
...Wrote, a Japanese man while he attended a camp..
preached a Muslim teacher when they made fun of her stamp..
sang a Haitian boy, starving..it was more of a chant..
funny how you can eat turkey, Native Americans CANT.
All Lives Matter..
said the Muslim grandfather, just catching a plane..
said the young white women, enlisted in the army for change..
I say all lives matter, with pride and have my fist out...
but with no papers..according to Trump ill be kicked out..
my life matters, all lives matter..
but isn't it sad...?
its not the white thing to say...but some lives never have.
-afj
Nov 17, 2016
Nov 17, 2016 at 5:07 PM UTC
This is the time this is the place
to erase a trace of the human race
and not to spare them a moment of grace
burning like the mace-
in their eye
but who'll hear their cry
the moment before they die
bake their brains like ms. lovelette's meat pies
it might sound a little shocking
hearing 9's cocking
bag over your face while my music's rocking
people laughing and mocking
as you get your eyes pulled out
we laugh while you shout
you know i'm about to freakout
and let your body rot in the nuclear fallout
**** the nations
i'll leave you shaken like a haitian
bombing radio stations
me plus you equals X solve the equation
X is death
X is death
X is death
Aug 13, 2014
Aug 13, 2014 at 12:33 AM UTC
the moment I wake up, my room is shaking.
It's 7 o' clock and the kid that got arrested again last week,
is blasting EDM downstairs, and my walls
are reverberating.
My walls are always reverberating.
I've lived in this ancient building since I can remember.
My consciousness began in a blue apartment.
We've only moved once, and its was to the other side.
I roll out of bed and head straight for the fridge.
There's some rice and beans from this haitian lady-
my mother's only friend.
They don't really understand each other,
but they're always exchanging food.
I take a plastic spoonful.
It's really salty.
I eat it cold while looking out the window in my living room,
my sweatpants are hiked up to my knees,
and my robe is hung loose around me.
I pull the blinds up high.
I lived on main street all of my life, but it's not too busy of a town,
so there aren't many cars.
I look across the road, to the art gallery that was just built
under existing residents.
That's cool
Too bad the owners are racist *****
that would assume I was a muslim if I were to walk in.
Probably tell me to leave because they're closed,
when they aren't.
They told my friend, Mo, that.
He doesn't even practice.
I wonder if anyone else is looking out
of their windows at this hour.
Perhaps at me, and my disheveled morning appearance.
There must be a rave going on downstairs.
When it wasn't the laundromat it was this kid's
insufferable music choice.
Or the crack-fiends cries for money on the stoop.
I usually lock myself in my room,
listening to the hiss of the heater.
My blue-light blocking glasses on,
I stare at my lap-top screen,
typing in a mildly passive-aggressive tone.
Complaints to the landlord aren't heard.
I've little sympathy for most passive- aggression.
But I guess the powerlessness
is where it stems from.
I've got to escape.
Jan 16, 2015
Jan 16, 2015 at 9:27 AM UTC
If the world was all blue, would it still be racist ?
Would they separate the light from the dark blue faces
Would traces of true hate emerge from what is basic
Or would we live free in a world that doesn't hate ****
A Russian and a Haitian, standing side by side
They look exactly the same, but would they still collide ?
I don't know
The world today is so broken
That if I try to imagine better, the gate of thought won't open
It's crazy
We're brainwashed to think that we can't do well
We go through hell cuz we're unable to take help
We sell out or out sell who helped us excel
And when we fail we go to god explaining ourselves
But how do you explain a mindset that isn't you?
How do you live a life that just isn't true ?
Millions of people have died because of drug abuse
Tryna escape the world that was given to them
Little did they know, they'd tell the world toodles
Because they overdosed until their brain turned neutral
But the man gave it to him just to slay a true dude
Now his fam by the caskets seeing what'll suit him
Oct 27, 2013
Oct 27, 2013 at 1:14 AM UTC
When I see the Haitian flag, tears rush into my eyes.
When I see the Haitian flag, my Haitian heart cries.
Our people have been ridiculed, yet our flag continues
To flow unimpeded. We will never die on our knees.
If we must die, we will die standing like brave soldiers.
We will not bow our head. We will stare at the racist liars,
Because our Heroes died for our freedom, honor and dignity.
Haiti is the most exploited country in the world. Haiti, Haiti
Will survive, and all the perpetrators will rot one day in Hell.
Haiti is the most betrayed country in the world. Haiti, Haiti
Is a beautiful country, in spite of the centuries of disrespect
Of over-exploiting, looting, stealing, and obvious neglect.
Haiti is patient. One day, all the fake and snake goons will rot in Hell.
When I see the images of Haiti, I shake and shake my head and I pray.
When I see the forced smiles of Haiti; speechless, I don't know what to say.
I become sad, angry and numb, because many of us LOVE Haiti,
Our Homeland, which Haiti has been governed by a lot of haters,
By a clan of shrewd kleptomaniacs, who know how to fool the voters,
Which are naïve, uninformed and illiterate. Haiti will survive their hypocrisy,
At the end of the day. When I see the bicolor, tears come to my eyes,
'Cause we have suffered enough and too much. Yes, my brave heart cries.
P.S. May 18 is Haitian Flag's Day (May 18,1803 - May 18,2018) . Happy Haitian Flag's Day!
Copyright © May 18,2018, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.
May 18, 2025
May 18, 2025 at 2:48 PM UTC
Bon appétit to all my fellow Haitians and friends,
Who'll be drinking, sipping, savoring Soup Joumou,
Which is made of squash, neck bones, macaroni, oxtails,
Carrots, yams, celery, parsley, and countless vegetables.
This is a powerful, yet historical soup,
With a strong message. This tradition
Started after the Battle of Vertières,
When the Haitian Army defeated the French.
Haiti fought and won its Independence,
On January 1st. 1804 in Gonaives, Haiti,
And became the very first Black Republic
In the world. Believe me, this is amazing.
Soup Joumou, yellow squash symbolizes Respect, Freedom,
Independence, Peace, Pride, Equality and Liberty. It stands
Against slavery, bigotry, racism, unfairness, lies, injustice,
White supremacy, nepotism, inequality and prejudice.
Our Haitian ancestors could not consume such a delicacy
Before, where only the Colonists, the Affranchis
Or the Freedmen could enjoy. The defeat of Gen. Rochambeau
By General Jean Jacques Dessalines had changed the entire scenario.
Please join all Haitians throughout the world by drinking,
Eating and savoring 'Soup Joumou', the Haitian squash soup,
On the first day of every year. Celebrate in memories of strong men,
And women who fought for Liberty, Equality and Fraternity.
Please read the history of the mysterious island of Haiti,
To enhance your knowledge of the world's history.
The Haitian People, in spite of constant internal fights,
Are strong, resilient, friendly, funny and intelligent.
Copyright © December 2016 Logerie Hébert, All Rights Reserved
Hebert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.
Dec 30, 2024
Dec 30, 2024 at 9:16 PM UTC
Poor people of our countries
Poor people everywhere
Poor people of Haiti
People who are poor, disoriented, and crazy
I will no longer say ‘poor Haiti’
Haiti is a country full of wealth
Haiti, a country full of resources
For others
Haiti is a paradise and rich in resources
For others
Haiti is a country full of hypocrisy
Of destitute, miserable and suffering peoples
Haiti is a place full of hatred and backstabbers
Haiti, Haiti! What a disgrace! Where its leaders are dumb, evil, and crazy
Haitian youth and young people are very unlucky
Because the false and fake leaders are greedy, ugly and senseless
What a shame for a people who have often suffered so much
The Cemeteries are everywhere, so are the Churches and the Calvaries
There is so much misery there because the thieves, the crooks
Hypocrites, henchmen, bandits, madmen, and scoundrels are everywhere
This is the country where too many innocent people die by bullets, by iron
By hatred, by hypocrisy, by revenge, by ignorance and by poverty
Which saint should we invoke for these hopeless people
For our brothers and sisters without a future who are dying of despair?
What deaf and drunken God should we pray to save the followers of Christ
Who lament, who weep, who scream, and who bark like dogs?
What word should we use to strengthen and energize these weakened people
And the state which unfortunately exists to punish the impoverished victims?
Poor people here where we are
Poor people of our countries
Poor people everywhere
Poor people of Haiti
Poor people of these United States.
P.S. Translation of ‘ Pauvre Peuple De Chez Nous, De Nos Pays’.
Copyright © April 2025, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poetry.
Apr 6, 2025
Apr 6, 2025 at 2:22 PM UTC
I’m talking about the beautiful country of Burkina Faso
Formally known as the Republic of Upper Volta, the newcomer on the plateau
The new country with a charismatic and highly competent young leader
Capt. Ibrahim Traoré, everybody is talking about this intelligent brother
Who is well articulated in French, English and other languages
Brother Traoré embodies what all young men and women aspire to be:
Heroes of his or her Homeland, to help and rid themselves of the vestiges
Of inferiority, servitude and slavery. Yet, I’m still learning about this great country
I love Capt. Traoré’s eloquent speeches and gestures. I’m awesomely inspired
By his words and deeds. This brave brother means business. He’s not tired
To tell the truth, as we know, most leaders lie like frogs trying to speak
He tells it like it is and he indeed does good for Burkina Faso. He’s at his peak
This courageous military man can only go higher, to be exemplary
In Africa. He’s the model leader that Africa (the world) needs. He’s too busy
To travel to countries that have mastered the art of insulting and belittling
Young and modern leaders. The world needs new leaders ***** capable of singing
The righteous songs of freedom, liberty, justice, fairness and equality for all citizens
Brothers and sisters, I’m still learning about B. Faso, Mali, Niger and other regions
Or countries that are fighting for the pride and the future of their inhabitants
My best wishes go to countries that are helping us accomplish our missions
We are living in a world of abundance. No countries should be treated as inferior
Or poor. "Haiti is not a ******** country". Yet, they failed to mention the exploitations
The rapes, the lies, the abuses and the lootings of our resources and the decapitations
They surely know how to manipulate, to neutralize, to explore and to divide to conquer
Oops, I had to exteriorate a bit. I want to wish our many countries a fruitful future
They’ll succeed because these new, incorruptible leaders care about us and they’re better.
P.S. This poem is dedicated to the late Pres.Thomas Sankara, our Haitian, African,
Black American Heroes, Poets and all our Brothers and Sisters.
Copyright © May 2025 Hébert Logerie, All Rights Reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.
May 24, 2025
May 24, 2025 at 11:45 AM UTC
The ship came like a flying horse, at an inexact time
Our brother-sailor, from the Pantheon of Poets, was on board
Jean Pierre Basilic Dantor Frankétienne D’argent
Who wrote, in haste, the last act
Happened to be miraculously on the port
He got on and left without speaking, without money
Without his masterpieces, without a little house
That’s life, we leave at any season.
Kalfou te kindeng miwo, miba ye.
Franckétienne is not gone
He is somewhere, in Ravine-Sèche, Haiti, in the streets
His inspiration is in the show of ‘the Point’
We have no choice but to take care
Of his memory, his invention and his imagination
Franckétienne was a Haitian genius, poet, playwright, and spiralist
Minister of culture, wordsmith, singer, painter and artist
His name was a long, long sentence
And his words made people laugh until ecstasy.
Kalfou te kindeng miwo, miba ye.
While alive, he had not obtained his little house
He was a legendary genius who defied the imagination
The dictators, the ordinary, the unusual and the abstract
By becoming a mapou, a baobab. Wendell would say
What a potomitan! What a cathedral! What a citadel!
To paraphrase the son of the director of McDonald's
"If you happen to fall, learn to ride quickly
Your fall, let your fall become a horse, your horse
To continue the journey", the excursion.
Kalfou te kindeng miwo, miba ye.
"Every minute counts after fifty"
Once said Frankétienne, since you can leave
At any time, at any moment
'Galaxy plomb gaillé', not too far from the nadir
An invisible trail on the head like Valentino or Tino Rossi
Frankétienne is no more, the artist is gone
He remains more than ever a new Being
The giant, the writer, the actor, the creator of words
He is dressed in suspenders like a big white *****
Not like a monster from Dr. Frankenstein. Like a mobster
A thief, the ship came like a flying horse; it is death
That threatens us as if we are wrong
We weep, cry now like a mother in mourning
For this advanced octogenarian, for this prince of light.
Kalfou te kindeng miwo, miba ye.
P.S. A Tribute to Franckétienne and family, to Wendell Théodore
And company, to Radio Métropole and to all good Haitians.
My sincere condolences to all! Sit ei terra levis!
This is a translation of
‘Le Navire Est Venu À Cheval, Ou Hommage Au Fameux Poète Frankétienne’
Copyright © February 2025, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.
Feb 24, 2025
Feb 24, 2025 at 2:06 PM UTC