"rossi" poems
my friend al
calls me every night
midnight to be exact
with invites to the maryland club,
you know the one, near hudsons bay
where johnny walkers always playing that old drum?
come he says
& we can dance with martini & rossi
baila baila on table tops
while jose cuervo
plays his cuban guitar.
aye yae yae mami,
venga, venga!
come
let me show you the comforts
of southern hospitality
it will only cost you one silver dollar
i try to say no
absolutely not
cause the last time i danced with al
i found myself lying in the arms of ron bacardi
at the old kentuky tavern down by the green river
ooh, he was soo smooth talking
standing there dressed in his red label shoes
& when he told me i felt like black velvet,
handed me four roses
& tickled me with three feathers
i found myself with my
backside to the ground
& me looking up at nothin but skyy
& by the time i knew what was going on
we had done it 151 times
before jack daniels caught us
behind mr. boston's house
& when he swore
he’d tell my old grand dad
i was so scared,
i stole the white horse
that belonged to capitan morgan
just to get away.
lord knows to this day
if he knew
he’d slap me silly, take me to church
& swear the christian brothers
could save my soul.
no, i wanna say
absolutely not
but its too late
i’m already at the canadian club
where my soul is being ******
by the fat *******
filling my glass
with crushed grapes.
Dec 24, 2014
Dec 24, 2014 at 7:08 PM UTC
Fiume che là specchiasti un casolare
cò suoi rossi garofani, qua mura
d'erme castella, e tremula verzura;
eccoti giunto al fragoroso mare:
ed ecco i flutti verso te balzare
su dall'interminabile pianura,
in larghe file; e nella riva oscura
questa si frange, e quella in alto appare;
tituba e croscia. E là, donde tu lieto,
di sasso in sasso, al piè d'una betulla,
sgorghi sonoro tra le brevi sponde;
a un po' d'auretta scricchiola il canneto,
fruscia il castagno, e forse una fanciulla
sogna a quell'ombre, al mormorìo dell'onde.
1.5k
It was a pleasure to see you again
Bulldog jawed with that wide fat ***
I wanted to tell you that I used to
Fantasize about you
Your dark flowers covering
My chest
As I feasted like a black bee
Like a disgusting butterfly
On you hair
I feasted again at the party
Last night
There is something about you
Some kind of dumb innocence
Shining from unraped eyes
That I wish I could return
To my heart
And we talked again and I really tried
To pretend to care
And I saw you frown at me when
They said "Better take it easy on the
Beers Ray..."
**** I'm fine, this us only the 7th...
Or 8th..."
"Wait til he gets 2 more in him,
************* crazy!!!"
"Really?" You asked
You looked down at the empty green
Glass and
I looked as well
I saw all the light in the room cram
Itself into those bottles
Then I scoughed
And decided the party was getting
Dull
I had to hijack it
Somebody said
"Ray, tell the story about when you
And your ex were at the hotel for your anniversary"
"Well...shit. She said 'ooooh baby, your **** is so big!' and I said 'yeah, biggest you ever had baby?' And she said 'well...no....the biggest I ever had was like 12 inches.'
And I was sore as hell about it
So we started arguing and she started crying and I just sat there drinking a jug of Carlo Rossi all night."
And everybody at the party laughed
And you couldn't believe I would say
Something like that
Then you asked "Ray, what size shoe
Are you?"
"11"
"False advertisement" you said.
Then I started screaming
"Hey! It's A DECENT SIZE, ILL PULL MY **** OUT RIGHT NOW, I DONT GIVE A ****
And I stood up and unbuttoned my jeans
And some laughed
and the party hosts looked concerned
And I saw a scared fascinated and
Disgusted look in your eyes
"LETS GO TO THE BATHROOM, ILL SHOW YOU, NOBODYS EVER COMPLAINED ABOUT IT"
And I rambled on and on
And cleared the whole room again
Anyways,
It was a pleasure to see you again.
May 14, 2016
May 14, 2016 at 2:40 PM UTC
Gretchen Rossi knew that she wanted to marry Slade Smiley since the beginning of their relationship. They got together shortly after Rossi lost her fiance to cancer, and Slade has been her rock throughout the years. Gretchen was concerned about getting married too quickly, mostly because of his child support issues. But it sounds like he is more than ready to marry her.
Gretchen Rossi has already cancelled their wedding once. The two had planned the wedding and set the date, but they had to cancel because the date conflicted with previously created events. Rossi could not get married on her chosen date, as many of her friends and family members could not make it out. The two have been engaged for two years.
According to a new Radar Online report, Gretchen Rossi is now canceling her wedding again — and some people believe that these two will never get married. As it turns out, the wedding cancellation has nothing to do with their feelings for one another. Apparently, it is just tough for them to find a date that truly works for everyone.
“They are definitely still getting married and are very much in love,” a source says, adding, “Why else would they do Marriage Bootcamp together? The reason that the wedding has been postponed so many times is not because they have doubts that they are meant to be together, but because they are both working on a lot of projects right now.”
It is no secret that Gretchen Rossi is working hard on her business, Gretchen Christine, and she often posts pictures on Instagram of her work. She has never been in a rush to get married and have a child, and it sounds like she is being reasonable in her planning.
“Gretchen just launched a purse line and she and Slade are pitching several different ideas to various networks for projects that have them both on camera and behind-the-scenes,” a source has revealed, adding, “Lately they have been getting a lot of pressure from their close friends to do it already. Gretchen cannot wait to be Slade’s wife and, when the time is right, they will have their huge lavish wedding. This is what they both want.”
Last year, Rossi opened up about her struggles to have a child. Gretchen shared her journey on The Doctors last year, but she revealed that they had not been successful.
“I always knew that I wanted to be a mother,” Gretchen has previously said, adding, “Slade knew that it was something that was very important to me, but he also told me he had a vasectomy. We just decided that in-vitro fertilization was a much quicker way to make things happen for us.”
What do you think of Gretchen Rossi delaying her wedding yet again?
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Sep 19, 2015
Sep 19, 2015 at 3:29 AM UTC
Out of the deep
Depths of darkness,
We crawl from the
Evil that taunts us.
The struggles and strife
That life leans upon us-
Frantic and determined,
We are naked and harmless.
Evil might be convinced to believe
That we are weak in the knees,
It's up to me to succeed in life
Even without the wings of Achilles.
Forever give me power
As bright red as fire,
To be the best I can be
As this evil surrounds me.
*Copyright Christopher Rossi 2014
Sep 16, 2014
Sep 16, 2014 at 12:35 AM UTC
sideways ptoses rooted
in statues, bitter waters
of last monarchs clinging
to red cornel crucifixes
while naked november
raised from plutonian mist,
bathing us, almost, again,
in summer paradoxes
——————————————
Italian version, from “Chieti, Scalo”, 2014
AZIONE PARALLELA
le ptosi di tralíce allignavano
in statue, amarissime acque
di ultimi sovrani aggrappati
a rossi crocifissi di corniolo
mentre un nudo novembre
saliva dalle nebbie plutonie
circonfondendoci quasi d’
ancóra paradossi d’estate
Nov 1, 2014
Nov 1, 2014 at 9:41 AM UTC
Le navire est venu à cheval, à une heure inexacte
Notre frère-matelot, du Panthéon des Poètes, était à son bord
Jean Pierre Basilic Dantor Frankétienne D’argent
Qui écrivait, à la hâte, le dernier acte
Se trouvait par hasard, miraculeusement sur le port
Il est monté, il est parti sans parler, sans argent
Sans ses chefs d’œuvre, sans une petite maison
C’est la vie, on part à toute saison.
Kalfou te kindeng miwo, miba ye.
Franckétienne n’est pas disparu
Il est quelque part, à Ravine-Sèche, dans les rues
Son inspiration est dans ‘l’émission le Point’
Nous n’avons pas d’autres choix que de prendre soin
De sa mémoire, de son invention et de son imagination
Franckétienne était un génie Haïtien, poète, dramaturge, spiraliste
Ministre de la culture, faiseur de mots, chanteur, peintre et artiste
Son nom était une longue phrase
Et ses paroles faisaient rire jusqu'à l’extase.
Kalfou te kindeng miwo, miba ye.
De son vivant, il n’avait pas obtenu sa petite maison
C’était un génie légendaire qui a défié l’imagination
La dictature, l’ordinaire, l’inordinaire et l’abstraction
En devenant un mapou, un baobab. Dirait Wendell
Quel potomitan! Quelle cathédrale! Quelle citadelle!
Pour paraphraser le fils du directeur de Mac Donald
« S’il arrive que tu tombes, apprends vite à chevaucher
Ta chute, que ta chute devienne un cheval, ton cheval
Pour continuer le voyage », la randonnée.
Kalfou te kindeng miwo, miba ye.
« Chaque minute compte après cinquante ans »
Disait Franckétienne, puisqu’on peut partir
A n’importe quelle heure, à n’importe quel instant
‘Galaxie plomb gaillé’, pas trop **** du nadir
Une trace invisible sur la tète à la Valentino ou à la Tino Rossi
Frankétienne s’en est allé, l’artiste est parti
Il demeure plus que jamais un Être nouveau
Le géant, l’écrivain, le comédien, le créateur des mots
Est habillé en bretelle comme un gros blanc nègre
Pas comme un monstre de Dr. Frankenstein. Comme une pègre
Le navire est venu à cheval, c’est la mort
Qui nous menace comme si nous avions tort
Nous pleurons maintenant comme la mère
Pour cet octogénaire avancé, pour ce prince de lumière.
Kalfou te kindeng miwo, miba ye.
P.S. Un Hommage à Franckétienne et famille, à Wendell Théodore
Et compagnie, à Radio Métropole et à tous les Haïtiens conséquents.
J’offre mes sincères condoléances à tous. Sit ei terra levis!
Copyright © Février 2025, Hébert Logerie, Tous droits réservés
Hébert Logerie est l'auteur de plusieurs recueils de poésie.
Feb 24, 2025
Feb 24, 2025 at 7:38 AM UTC
The morning after sunrise
Over a decimated Nagasaki
The smooth smiling
Bulletin board *****
Immortalized over
**** blood streets
You were so beautiful but your
Love was dead
You walked smooth rhythm like
Hot bullets through butter flesh
Your voice soft sweet like
House cat ripping dove's neck
And in Waterloo I watched you
Watch your father watch
Past pain fill cold beer mugs
Feel numb nothingness
Attempting to drink it all away
And you knew ALL included you
Pain passed down
Misery inherited
And when you slapped me in the snow
I knew the blow was really from
Him to you
And his wife dying of cancer
In the room across from ours
You shut our door
Poured the Carlo Rossi into
Plastic cups
Then talked about your cats
Then we ****** on the floor
But I couldn't stop thinking about
The suffering across the hall
The suffering in your grinding hips
And when I stared into your
Drunk dead eyes
I saw pain inescapable
I saw future smashed by past
I saw desperation for control through
Expendable men
I saw him
I had to look away
Outside of the window
Snow falling heavy
Bright cold delicate
It burned my eyes
You were so beautiful
But your love was dead
Oct 26, 2018
Oct 26, 2018 at 10:35 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