Acclimate Poems

Clean Up, Up Sell , Encampments

A language loss from inexperience 
Reality
Foot immersion and crimes of indifference
These are crimes of a financial nature
The poor are a protected minority 
Protected by poverty laws
These laws enlighten people
In the articles of hate crimes

Please challenge your mind to read
And thus acclimate to a discussion you
Are skewing 

Remember the government is not a business 
And is not capable of turning a profit 
In phrase
Unjusting a penny?

Also I found that writing a law into the books
Requires blind Jewish criminals to worship
Their religion again

Oklahoma August

Oklahoma August
Miracle Man
8/11/2024

The sun is now up,
and the sky’s all aglow.
What this day brings me,
I don’t fathom to know.

I sit in observance,
as puffy clouds float by.
Quite a big contrast,
to a robin egg blue sky.

My hope is that now,
I see August heat abate.
Or perhaps I’ll go somewhere,
that I can acclimate.

In my mid fifties I retired,
and it has now grown stale.
I register five of ten points,
on my contentment scale.

But I’ve much to be thankful  for,
God has truly blessed my life.
This month is anniversary 59,
all with the same loving wife.

Tired Of Sharing Bad Or Nefarious News

I know that we're all tired of hearing
And sharing bad or knavish news about everywhere
About countless elections that were just and fair
We're absolutely sick and tired about sharing
Too many sad news about crime, corruption
Negative events, racism and discrimination
This is the end of the year. We want all crises
To be over, done. We want the pandemic to end
We're tired and frustrated about the messes
We want to have a better world. Now, we want to send
Solely good news to the world. We want to inspire
We want to see friendlier smiles, more gorgeous flowers
At home, not at funeral. We want to hear about lovers
Not about haters, criminals and liars who conspire
Incessantly. We abhor bad news, fake news, and dirty lies
We want the nonsense to cease and to see more genuine smiles
A new year, a new beginning, a novel dawn is quickly approaching
Hence, let's start fresh and acclimate our lives to the new spring.

Copyright © December 2020, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.

Prejudice

Slime is a subtle stage for blame I can’t stay stuck to your ways/
I’m a little vague so your game I’ll ante up to plague/
While a tirade goes for their bane they played and waged/
I’ll abrogate woes to lurk away more straight/
Compile and appropriate foe’s to contain your plate/
The trial of a pirate goes on to con tame and irrigate/
Denial of a tyrant that strove along to drain and irritate/
Then dial a vibrant cat to move strong and plain annihilate/
A senile re-brand that drove a pronged strain to acclimate/
The tribal withstand fought a shove from one that longed again to act just or right/
Sir it’s vital to know the zone read was a wrought lot and would attract a prejudice overnight/
Survival of a homestead sought above tact and when injustice is worth a fight/
Sure is final now just like a home’s bed brought to a spot held at last a permanent site/

In a New Place

When you’re in a new place
And the setting is strange,
All your customs and habits 
You must rearrange.

From the car that you drive
To the bed where you sleep,
There’s a learning curve; sometimes 
To climb it is steep.

When you’re older, to acclimate
May take a while,
Especially if
Tried and true is your style.

So you do what you must
To accept and get by,
For your younger-day outlooks 
No longer apply.

If I Were

If I were the sun,
if i were the rain...
would acclimate finer
this world...!

Anxiety

Anxiety
Written: by Miracle Man
August 19, 2021

Believing forthcoming days won’t be sublime,
allow habits and idiosyncrasies to irritate.
All thoughts of delight will wither in time,
and days are spent scrambling to acclimate.

Embraced are those thoughts of wistful years,
praying future days don’t house sameness.
Then taking final inventory of life’s souvenirs, 
and allowing others to usurp our saneness.

Many go through life hearing negative songs,
but “Love keeps no records of our wrongs.”

1 Corinthians 13 KJV
 4 Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not    proud. 
5 It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. 
6 Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth
7 It always protects, always trusts, always hopes...

Grown

Wondrous times we've merited
no longer feeling desolate
I'm feeling high-spirited
something I did acclimate
with conditions dreary
going to the doctor isolated
my nerves made me weary
now I'm quite elated
for I must be on my own feet standing
where independence is forced upon me
making me stronger and being
grown for all to see

The Hounds of Hell

Summer’s almost over - that convalescent state
where successive modes of pleasure
were the order of the day.
Now fall commands awakening -
drive simplicity away! The hounds
of hell are yelping that it’s time to banish play.
They cry “forget unscheduled hours 
that owned no share of care - the virtual halls
are scheduled and we’ll soon see you there.”
No apotropaic magic can delay my slated fate - 
to pixelated halls of learning I must soon acclimate.

Home Improvement

It's easy to do nothing,
As the years pass, to your house.
"It looks okay" - a maxim
Many homeowners espouse.

But if, at last, the motivation
Strikes and you proceed, 
You may discover some improvement's
What you really need.

A paint job, new appliances,
Replacements for your chairs,
A spruced-up garden and a guy
Who's handy with repairs.  

From day to day, it's hard to see
How much we acclimate
To our surroundings, even as
They turn so out-of-date.

A few small changes may just help
You get into the groove
And you may be surprised to find
Your home and mood improve.

March For Our Father

I can hear the soldiers cadence beating in time with my heart, acclimate to the bombs ringing in my ears this is a call to arms. Martyr's of the highest rank stripes sewn into our skin, hope for living and prey for the dead facing the reapers war-torn grin.

Muzzle fire bursting forth from an unrelenting machine, horizontal layers side by side hope lies in a graveyard of broken dreams. High upon the mounds of mass burial no headstones to mark our resting place, another son inevitably falls to a cause in which he did not have faith.

Fog rolls in deep from the south sulfur strangling our bloodshot eyes, the drum roll points these marching feet into the maw of an unjust demise. Hanging from the moss laden trees not a strand of hope remains, staining the fields with blood of the innocent eyes of our father have looked away.

Temptation

The devil is your helpmeet
when you twist your P's and Q's, 
when you dabble in black magic
or recalibrate your Muse.

Transgressions will befall you 
as you ply your wicked trade,
yours or someone else's
'til the debt to sin is paid.

Criminals, malingerers,
and those with crooked hearts
will wriggle through the sacraments,
upset your applecarts.

They'll paint you in the darkest light
and daub your face with blood,
play your insecurities 
and sway you from the Good.

Don't compromise your trembling heart
to acclimate his will, 
remember he is waiting 
for your innocence to spill.

To Acclimate

As the storm clouds gather over the sun
A tiny opening lets through beams of light
Still a swirling dark mass like a sea undone
Resting behind are beams of sunlight

Rain is needed and the clouds a delight
They offer protection from the noon's heat
Cover from summer's full sun which is bright
Maybe tonight will be a cooler treat

Despite dark clouds, there's hope for new days
Maybe sunlight for an afternoon tromp
Or some time for water sports and play
An evening filled with much romp and stomp

Dark clouds can be at sometimes aboding
But after the storm life is acclimating  

Written: June 30, 2014
Inspired by: Elly Wouterse's Contest
Contest: Encore

Temptation

The devil is your helpmeet
when you squeeze your P's and Q's, 
when you dabble in black magic
and recalibrate the fuse.

Transgression will befall you 
as you ply your wicked trade,
yours or someone else's
'til the debt to sin is paid.

Criminals, malingerers,
and those with crooked hearts
will wriggle through the sacraments,
upset the applecarts.

They'll paint you in the darkest light
and daub your face with blood,
play your insecurities 
and sway you from the Good.

Don't compromise your trembling heart
to acclimate his will, 
remember he is waiting 
for your innocence to spill.

Derogated Orm

Vibrant, organic, woodland copse
Free-flowing sylvan form
Bonded to bartered soil
Your pulpy chalice with fawning tendrils expand
Bristling needles from your, wavy mantle extend
Briny resin bleeds from your deep reservoir
Your green cloak glistening still
Your crowning diadem stretches to the horizon
Subsequently, your noble bow leased for brigand wear
Penuriously felled in due season
Your prime tender sheared for trite offering
Your true shape, form stunted to acclimate
To your synthetically-groomed dorm
Your green twigs now carefully-preened artifice
Once unfettered appendages weighted with trite trinkets
Your wholesome, egalitarian visage translated into a conical orb

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