"haitians" poems
( i )
I lucked out
on table 4 last night
window seat
baseboard heat
with intimate passages
from Ginsberg
in his purest
and most evident form
Cover-all Carl was draped
in his usual garb
(turning pages
of yesterday's news)
animating, culturing, bantering
on the fate of the
Greek barber
(in an accent of which
I'm not so sure)
His cronies
looked on
(with a twisted conviction)
countering
with their own tales
of ingovernance and woe
*did you know that Panasonic
lost 5 billion last quarter?*
The evening moved
in time lapse...
with painted winds,
streaming lights
and a host of
high school girls
running cold
Maleah passed
on her late shift
(checking the pile and trough),
patronized the boys
and called it a night
( ii )
The bald man
is back at it again
bickering at the till
(something about
a cold free coffee
or 99 cents
or the coloured guy
behind him who got it hot)
a kind Filipino
is trying to get it done
(at 8 bucks per)
losing her cool
and shedding a quiet tear
Wonder what the Purewals
or Haitians or Cossacks
would have to say
about this grim public reminder,
wonder what
this sad f*ck
will do tonight...
without his
bus pass
or sling sack
or broken Turkish stems
Jan 7, 2017
Jan 7, 2017 at 2:37 PM UTC
The apartment hasn’t been cleaned for so long and has housed a depressive in it for the same length of time so that there is a glaze of slime-dirt on the floor, made of dried coffee, hot chocolate, maybe some **** or some spillage from a tube of steroid cream to treat an inflammation that never really goes. The rate of ooze changes?. Clean textiles are piled up on the floor, never having been folded, and mix here and there with ***** practical fatpants that make me look like a geologist and white-white cotton blankets that can be washed on HOT with lots of bleach that I purloined from some mentalhealthfacility. The inbox is full of—is bristling with—remonstrances from Programs for the Nondoer—you haven’t filed, haven’t turnstiled, haven’t had your hologram chip assessed by central CENTRAL intelligence, what is wrong with you. Upon stepping outside there is a beat during which I think maybe somewonder might swirl and buoy but no, just wethumid and ***** sidewalks cruddy and Haitians and quasi-Haitians muttering “taxitaxitaxi” in front of their Gypsy conveyances with their dubious certifications. I should go for a ride in one, a dubious passenger for a dubious palanquin. I tried the library but it was too hot and decrepit and too filled with Books For African-Americans, which always ****** me off; are only African-Americans going to read Wright or Douglass or Brooks? Everyone is overrated, anyway, movies and theater and the moribund beat of commerce, and as the dangerous autos pass, sometimes not running you over, you can see morechange in the pockets of the shareholders of BeePee and Iacocca Coach-Wirx. Any friendliness exhibited seems to contain an underovertone of You’re Not Included Whiteboy White ****** Ghost ***** all archaic names I’ve been almost astounded to be called usually while balancing on tiptoe on some lurching, roaring dieselbus, grinding past off-off-off brand groceries that do a dubious business. While making my police report I wink at a sevenyearold boy and I get a lustrous wink back butalas this is not enough to beat back those slurrycolored brainfazes.
May 8, 2013
May 8, 2013 at 2:09 PM UTC
Where do thugs go?
Who do they run to?
Where do they call home?
Not a house that they go to, but a place where they feel belonged
How do they cope with the scarcity of love?
Thugs, not the kind that most women think they are attracted to; therefore, not the imposers
Not the kind who landed at the bottom of the hill, sliding from the top only to scrape off their rot
Not the ones who were born with all the right people in their corners, but boxed them off while trying to fight to be someone that they are not
Thugs, the ones who momma loves? Because he appreciates her worthiness, her works
She's the only real love he ever had since birth
Thugs; who can't really go places because trouble doubles
It multiplies whenever he is with his guys
Because they all know how it feel not to live under a roof
Neither one of them have anything to lose
His dudes are equal to himself cubed
They rely on one another like proofs
And they are radical from the roots
Living in a negative atmosphere trying to multiply it by itself
So that they can make it to where the grass is greener and the sun does shine
The other side of the number line
Where the gunfire and homicides are divided
And the dope is reduced
All their lives they have been thinking that they are enduring the truth
That they "cannot amount to nothing and cannot be put to use"
They are neck deep in the streets
And the authorities is at their throats like a crew
But nothing around them is cotton
So when their fingers symbolizes a "V" they are only representing the place where they have to be
And they are not weak, but sometimes they wishes that they can take off a week
Black cats can't chase yarn
Mexicans don't have a specific day for casual dressing
Asians don't get any waivers
Cubans can't take less hours for a semester of schooling
Haitians don't get vacations
The **** life is given
Difficult to make it
As it is to escape it
It's hard to deal
When all they know is reeling in deals
To people who are saltier than Dill's
While at the same time trying to act real... Kosher
Without a companion to share meals... How do they find closure?
Too busy being tyrannical
Never learned how to be grammatical
So **** just got "worser"
Interviewee for a job
Or being suave to a child's mom
Besides their eyes,
Their oration is just exposure
Not knowing their duration to exist on this surface
Thugs need love
It's hard to tell through his mean-mug
But he's hurting
Sep 10, 2013
Sep 10, 2013 at 11:18 PM UTC
Trinidad and Tobagonians
Haitians
Egyptians
Mexicans
English
Liechtensteins
Turkish
Italians
Norwegians
Germans
Portuguese
Omanians
Tromelin Islanders
Orcas Islanders
French
African-Americans
Maldives
Ecuadorians
Romanians
Ice Landers
Chinese
Argentinas
Feb 15, 2016
Feb 15, 2016 at 4:55 PM UTC
It was written in the beginning, a beginning before Britain, before folklore, gore and war. A beginning then, when the lords created, decorated and separated the night and also the bright, bright light. Therefore, a delight! In the beginning, creating the seven ways of days and the rays. The birth of earth, the black ravens, the havens and the heavens. A beginning of clean slates, dreams, schemes and themes!
As I blink and wink, badly and sadly I think… An ending, with fate or an ending with no ascending or commending date? Let’s debate and negotiate! A beginning, of Pharaohs, their arrows and the sparrows. An ending of sorrow? A beginning, borrowed from our hour’s tomorrow? An ending, I deem, that forever bends, defends, depends, pretends and never, ever seems to end. The heavens specialties and
hell’s cruelties. Governments and their restraints! Negative and positive lengths and strengths. A beginning and an ending; betrayed and strayed, long before many of us were to play or say. Stories of cities, glories and their pities! Starving nations and Haitians! Expensive vacations and relations! The elapsed and relapsed! Perhaps, the mishaps and disruption of our corruption’s eruption and ending
destruction? Hey! I say, let’s turn a page past the basked, the masked and vast. A fold past the cages that enrage-rage, wage and old age.
The detained delights, the petty fights and plights. Why can’t we each reunite? Unite forever! Drop and stop this harm and fight. Fly into the night, together with our almighty arms and mighty charms. Primarily, in the beginning or ending, let us not negatively but too positively and ultimately amend! Children, men and women, amen.
Feb 8, 2012
Feb 8, 2012 at 8:18 AM UTC
By: Cedric McClester
I think their skin is thin
When it comes to Mexicans
And their immigration status
Though Cubans can come here gratis
They’re among the baddest
When it comes to having compassion
They act like compassion's old fashion
And so they’re continuously bashing
Others who want to come here
For the same reasons they hold dear
See the Green Card was a gift
For those from the Mariel boat lift
Though they were among Cuba’s worst
They got a path road to citizenship first
While law abiding Haitians were kept out
Tell me what was that all about?
Some want to send them all back
Like a matter of white and black
To the places that they come from
Even if that notion is real dumb
I think they’re talking out of their ***
Cuz who’s gonna cut their grass
Or watch their children night and day
If we take them all away
There are other beside them ya know
They might want to encourage to go
But nine times out of ten you’ll find
That never crosses their mind
So they can go ahead and build their wall
Make it ten or fifteen feet tall
But remember we’re all on the land
Of the indigenous forgotten Red man!
Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2015. All rights reserved.
Nov 12, 2015
Nov 12, 2015 at 9:45 AM UTC
By: Cedric McClester
I think their skin is thin
When it comes to Mexicans
And their immigration status
Though Cubans can come here gratis
They’re among the baddest
When it comes to having compassion
They act like compassion's old fashion
And so they’re continuously bashing
Others who want to come here
For the same reasons they hold dear
See the Green Card was a gift
For those from the Mariel boat lift
Though they were among Cuba’s worst
They got a path road to citizenship first
While law abiding Haitians were kept out
Tell me what was that all about?
Some want to send them all back
Like a matter of white and black
To the places that they come from
Even if that notion is real dumb
I think they’re talking out of their ***
Cuz who’s gonna cut their grass
Or watch their children night and day
If we take them all away
There are other beside them ya know
They might want to encourage to go
But nine times out of ten you’ll find
That never crosses their mind
So they can go ahead and build their wall
Make it ten or fifteen feet tall
But remember we’re all on the land
Of the indigenous forgotten Red man!
Cedric McClester , Copyright (c) 2016. All rights reserved.
Feb 24, 2016
Feb 24, 2016 at 2:10 PM UTC
I find it hard to believe it
but I'm an emotional paraplegic
no feeling from the neck down
I would only think
never crack a smile or a frown
locked my emotions in the closet
while I let my thoughts go to town.
I'm entering a phase of restoration
having more than physical sensation
when I engage in ************
before I was an illegal assembly line
but now these feelings are real and these feelings are mine
I was severely understaffed and had to discontinue the emotion station
but now my internal economy is fixed and I'm getting slave labor from underage Haitians.
Sep 9, 2015
Sep 9, 2015 at 8:32 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
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
It's 3 pm, I was sleeping still
Wondering what the hell is inside of them sleepin pills
First things first, walk to my bar, grab a glass, and get it filled.
Whiskey is the juice of sensations,
I,
Sit cross legged during meditation
Contemplating the fate of a dying nation
In my basement, my body, the temple, distasteful
Falling apart like the homes of the Haitians.
I'm faded.
Trying to get straight answers from my family but they're all wasted
Drinking together us the culmination of our communication.
They say they wish I'd just ****** die.
Fine. I'd rather hear a crooked truth than a linear lie
**** em.
Dec 18, 2015
Dec 18, 2015 at 3:23 PM 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
Anmweyyy, anmweyyy
Everybody is destroying Haiti
Please stop, stop, quit. At last, give the country
A break, a rich season. There are too many bandits, vandals
Too many lootings, thefts, too many crises and scandals
On this impoverished and exploited island
Give Hayti a chance to live better. Give our land
A break with too much violence and injustice
Ayiti needs peace, love and real justice
Why all of you are hurting Haiti so bad?
This is sickening
Haytians, please stop being so sad and mad
Haiti needs everybody's love and compassion
This is damning
Please help Haiti in this time of destruction
Or leave Hayti alone, to breathe
Hate only knows how to burn, **** and destroy
The truck is about to kiss the rugged cliff
Stop the rancor, put out the fire and bring joy
Haitians, Haytians, wake-up to a new beginning and era
Get rid of the bad seeds and unite with the Diaspora
Unite to fight against corruption and waste of the aids
Be positive! Be ready to get rid of all sorts of plagues
Please stop the violence and use sheer common sense
Hayti needs a new and better season
Haitians, help our nation be an oasis, a starry beacon
Let's understand each other
Unite to be better! Unite to help each other and to dance
Let's love each other to be better
Unite in this time of crisis; and reject death and violence
Anmweyyy, anmweyyy.
Copyright © 2019, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.
Jun 7, 2025
Jun 7, 2025 at 8:50 PM UTC
No department of Education
No anti-corruption
No health care and dental care
No unemployment benefits
No social security benefits
When you’re old enough to retire
No help for people in needs, no welfare
No grants or loans for college students
No housing vouchers for elderly parents
No rules or regulations for the Stock Markets
No lawsuits against criminal cops
Due to immunity, they can **** anybody in the streets
And there’s more, more will fall in the craps
Many people will die sooner, before their time
Believe me that will be a sad crime
If you want an unfriendly and dishonest America
Vote for the fascist and friends of the SAGA
Otherwise, vote for the intelligent Woman
Who will never insult and disrespect Asians
Native Americans, Black Americans
Caucasians, Haitians, Jamaicans
Puerto Ricans, Europeans
Human beings, Africans
Latinos and poor White Americans.
Copyright © November 2024, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of numerous collections of poetry.
Nov 3, 2024
Nov 3, 2024 at 11:50 AM UTC
The interpretation
of biblical equations
led to justified discrimination
And subsequent **********
including horrid abominations
committed by all the world’s nations
(which are simply human’s creations)
faking focus on all of the news stations
pretending to help all of those poor Haitians
until it forgot them too with such elation
As to turn your head no longer facing
the bullets and shell casings
leave you running and pacing
until cops are slowly tracing
your body in chalk
No more wine tastings Mr. Hasting
because you drank too much
and can’t talk.
Now your stalking your ex’s
and killing all in sight
“lord please protect us!”
From Moral assault in west Texas
brought to you and directed
by the world’s democratically elected
Except I figured it out
after I prodded and dissected
what is lauded and protected
the diseases of this world that are financially connected.
That Jesus will never be scientifically resurrected
and even with this conclusion
I am still being spiritually affected.
The END.
Oct 7, 2015
Oct 7, 2015 at 9:07 PM UTC
They consume hot dogs
Too
Like you
But they don’t eat dogs
Never, ever
They do not eat cats
They do not eat pets
Never, never.
Immigrants eat wild boars, wild hogs
That’s hot Griot
They don’t eat rabbits
But they eat spicy Tassot
And of course, they eat hot dogs.
Haitians eat and drink Soup Joumou
Which contains vegetables and of course carrots
Haitian food
Is very, very good
Immigrants consume good meats
Like you.
Stop being racist
Stop being supremacist
Years ago, your ancestors used to eat dogs
Not immigrants, not West Indians
Not Haitians
Quit the hate
Think about your fate
On the final date
Immigrants eat fried wild hogs
Like zillion of Americans
Who love apple pies
Stop the lies, stop all the lies.
Copyright © October 2024, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of numerous collections of poetry.
Oct 27, 2024
Oct 27, 2024 at 1:35 PM UTC
Will veterinarian-approved treatments prolong my dog's suffering? Yes, veterinarians are like you and me except they are forbidden to use toilet paper by law, so instead they simply jump into Lake Michigan after each bowel movement. Can a veterinarian have *** with a woman? No, veterinarians are unable to do that. If I marry a veterinarian, what will our children look like? Dogs. Will a veterinarian ever be the president of Urugay? No. Veterinarians, although they're like you & me except when it comes to toilet paper usage, are intellectually inferior to all people, except Haitians.
Sep 12, 2024
Sep 12, 2024 at 2:17 AM UTC