A leader is, of course, solid not a blind follower
A leader is a true, real, genuine and patient analyzer
A leader usually leads the pack or the caucus
Follows common sense, the rules and laws of nature
Comprehends the consequences of having a failed procedure
The full process of achieving positive results at the terminus
After everything is laid, said and done, when nada is left?
A real leader has broad shoulders to withstand the storms
A brave man fears nothing, no man or woman on the left
Or on the right. A leader follows the principles, the norms
And the logic of things. Few men or women are natural leaders
Even if they were haphazardly elected or selected as such
Real leaders are occasionally as calm as hunting tigers
A genuine leader will fight for what is proper, not for the mulch
Which can be found in countless stores. A leader is strong
Bright, brave and humble. A leader admits when he is wrong
In our current unusual environment, men and women can lead
Effectively, since and hence the world has many mouths to feed.
Copyright © February 2020, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several poetry collections.
Dark circles cradle her eyes
enlarged they turn grey
when will she realize
as she hustles everyday
when it's in her hands it sours
still there's no sanitizer
to remove the stain that devours
the sweetness left to the analyzer
I lose no sleep anymore
I've come to peace with my desire
yet she thinks of this green evermore
and wakes up every hour to acquire
she gets her assistance from friends
and family as well
when she cleans her face the tear ascends
out of eyes that swell
I wish her not for richness brags
but for abundance instead
sleep well my little money bags
for her my heart has bled
*This poem is about a friend of mine. It's not about me.
The clarinet waves touched the moon.
He walked like a rooster in the moonlight,
bewitched by the music and the light. The
caparisoned elephants swayed their heads
to the drumbeats. A dozen half-naked virgins
danced around a bronze devil. “Human smell!”
Everything vanished in the blackout. That
escaped fisherman appeased the dark deity…
With a wavering voice and goose-bumps,
my wizened neighbor recounts thus the
myth behind the coastal festival. I enjoy
the false beauty. There is no analyzer in
his thinking system. Superstition is highly
inflammable in his illiterate inland. Such
beliefs flourish here in the thick Fantasy
Forest, where the reason rays never fall.
First published in The Literary Hatchet
Too cold this winter
of my senior years,
I played my part in this vale of tears
the onslaught of older age
quickly close the curtain of this stage
for every escapade and experience
of youth and foolish dabbling and interference;
now so much wiser
or is it just an elder in life's analyzer,
I look back in a smile at the days of old
when I was braver and much bolder,
today the winter chilled with cold and snow
makes me grateful for all I've seen and known;
but as the winter grows gray and dark
the fading embers that once sparked
are thankful to pass on the fire
to mold the future with hope and desire
as new generations take on the torch
I pray history's lessons and enlightenment be their source.
Nicotine paid
by the experimental hour
Diseased lungs’ biopsy displayed
never made
this lab rat’s attitude
turn breath analyzer sour
Snuff was a lemon grass puff charmer,
in pursuit
of a higher dollar yield
for the tobacco crop corporate farmer
Double blind Snuff
loved to puff
the addictive, leafy stuff
From generic to the best,
Mr. Seabee lips couldn’t get enough
Snuff got his manly chest
so feminine buff
Tumor rumor has it,
Snuff ran out of placebo luck
In the umpteenth trial
of new-and-improved product perfecting,
Snuff got the top-tier
guinea pig bucks
But, Snuff
never got to spend a muddy dime
of the green paper slime
His number came up,
just when the cure for cancer
looked to become
market investment prime
Double blind Snuff
truly loved to carton puff
the addictive, leafy lethal stuff
At his funeral,
some sad loved one
took a long-draw homage deep huff
And with a tar-teary, coughing prayer,
they lamented for po’ Mr. Seabee ...
oh, so soul roughly
When the smoky-grey casket
took a pallbearer eulogy short cut,
the bereaved slowly
snuffed out
their favorite brand cigarette butt
The truth is concealed by many branches,
Hidden behind a litany of lies.
If by accident a singe word is valid,
It is even to themselves, a great surprise.
We've tried to find veracity in the muddle
Of unsupported facts and plain froufrou.
With November lurking just around the corner,
We have a lot of scoop finding to do.
A lie is still a lie when dressed in fashion.
The truth is just as puzzling to unveil.
Setting politics aside we must be cautious.
Our country is at stake, we must not fail.
For this election I'll be an analyzer.
I will sift through every single bit of garnish.
My detection skills, I'll polish to perfection,
Removing from those lies, their coat of varnish.
Written: 8/7/2016
A meeting through obscure means,developed into friendship a bond was hit but short lived,of which in hindsight an highlight. You opted out of the path of a possible darkened cylinder
Along your own family line. Not working out as you anticipated, moving on in life, educating from the bottom up, always has swerves and slides. My friend,you have eppitified all my expectations.
A now blemishing family, wife and sons that be a highlight. I can safely say now, you`ll admit maybe futre referance lifting a solemn shadow from my shoulders,
if not ease. Everybody needs that outlet, you came along in perfect time. Blessings to a Gent that i didn`t think would amount, but did. Eugene Stanley Dobson. ;)
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