Words echoed that should never have been spoken.
Fiery accusations leaving hearts broken.
Twirled anger erupted, stabbing as if by a sword.
Vile innuendo from both of them, poured.
Shattered crystal, the statue she threw.
He barely recognised her, behaving like a shrew.
He glared in disbelief at the ugly scene.
Gone now, the adored devotion that once had been.
All culminating in a crescendo of bitter screams.
Her heart pounding, she envisaged her forlorn dreams.
The mirror depicts a virtual war zone.
His departure left her fragile and all alone.
She kicked the crumpled dress, realised her leg was sore.
The smashed perfume bottle still spilling across the floor.
In the avenues of dreamland,
I met Orwell, who said:
“Man has not awakened.
He still bows to his servants,
who crown themselves as masters,
and he still claps while they rob him blind.”
Look around you:
presidents who eat for free,
live for free, travel for free—
and still plunder the treasury.
Meanwhile, you—their keepers—
starve, and cheer them on.
This is not democracy.
It is a farm of animals
where the pigs dictate the commandments,
erasing truth at night,
and you accept the lies by morning.
The soldier you fear,
the policeman you obey—
they are slaves too,
serving the same master who despises them.
For centuries you have tolerated theft,
you have swallowed corruption,
you have watched kings born from your own apathy.
And still you wait for salvation,
as if it will be handed to you.
But know this:
Power respects only power.
What you allow will continue.
What you fear will govern you.
And what you refuse to confront
will one day consume you whole.
So I ask—
not as prophet, not as poet,
but as a mirror to your cowardice:
When will the people stop behaving like sheep
and finally slaughter the pigs?
My Inner voice told me to respect
Universal Moral Values always
at each step of journey, precise perfect.
Truth will guide my path in glory and glaze.
This principle was blessed by my Dad
and has been stored in the core of my heart
That’s the firm pivot on which I can stand
and proceed at ease from the very start.
My inner voice told be to act right,
always behaving courageous.
Aiming justice, I am ready to fight.
Not religious but righteous.
I don't pray to rescue me from crisis
but ask for inherent strength to confront.
In barren desert I must find oasis.
Not to mourn for past , but to look at front.
My Inner voice told me to lend hand
to the needy and sufferers at best,
also to send juniors this errand,
to be followed by generation : Next.
My Inner voice told me to respect
Universal Moral Values always
at each step of journey, precise perfect.
Truth will guide my path in glory and glaze.
This principle was blessed by my Dad
and has been stored in the core of my heart
That’s the firm pivot on which I can stand
and proceed at ease from the very start.
My inner voice told be to act right,
always behaving courageous.
Aiming justice, I am ready to fight.
Not religious but righteous.
I don't pray to rescue me from crisis
but ask for inherent strength to confront.
In borren desert I must find oasis.
Not to mourn for past , but to look at front.
Love, they say
When I was fifty-two, I fell in love and that
was hard; I lost my sanity for the sake of love
I had been married twice before I met my
undoing, learned the rope of living a pretense of love
when the only thing of interest was sex
I was never a family man, leaving me, the women
did me a favor
at a morning café, I saw her sitting at a side table
she had an aura of mysterious sexism about her
I had to have this woman
We had been together for almost a year, I had
found the woman of my life and proposed marriage
she turned me down and wanted to be free
and she didn't care for my clinging ways of behaving
She had other lovers as her libido was strong
Our relationship ended there as I realized I had met
a person like myself and one ego-centric lover
was enough, yet when I think of her, she warms
my lonely heart thinking of the great sex we had
When I was serious
You took for granted.
Totally ignored my requests
Treated them like games.
Used it to against.
And support your anger.
Flying those Fs words
Towards my simple world.
Once, I tried teasing you,
You found it too offensive.
Ended our very unstable friendship,
While behaving insensibly and immaturely,
When thing has gone dead,
What would you do instead?
Long for many new days,
So I could stay away.
Faith let you and me meet.
Trust built confident while strenghtening friendships.
With respect, honest, polite and courtesy,
Helped keeping the relationship long lasting.
What you did to others "Karma"
Love makes most things go around,
Hatred tumbles people to the ground.
Life is short to muck around.
Roll In Sin
Rulers are just straight measuring sticks
Buddy clubs and straight jackets
Ladders behaving like flowers
Black rose bush learing over the pastel shined Tulips grown
A different life green and blue
People can represent and stay true
In a suit
What is common with people that don't have the loot
What did I learn
What did I throw away
Feel value
In the works
A peckish primal poverty
Needed to outlast Trump
More than guns at the border
Respect
I impost them
The 5a.m bunny rabbit has no clue
To the price of food
Who am I praying to
Don't I need to know what it means before I try to pray
When they said he is losing his mind, I was awakening.
When they said he is segregating himself, I was healing.
When they said he is behaving comic, I was growing.
When they said I had changed, I was evolving.
When they said I don't care anymore, eventually I understood that my peace lives within.
By Chanda Katonga.
His angry screamed at me in silent
Her quiet eyes sorely pierced her smile
Violently behaving worlds standard
Sinless for who’s alive to judge them
Labeled a problem you cannot judge them
For who am I to hug
For whom am I to judge?
For who am I to hold, a grudge
WHOM AM I TO JUDGE WHEN I DON’T UNDERSTAND EVERYTHING PERFECT IN GOD
I am to receive the un-understandable with love
Man judges by his standards
God judges man’s heart
In Him we’re perfect
Whose are they to judge? .
WHOM AM I TO JUDGE WHEN I DON’T UNDERSTAND
EVERYTHING PERFECT IN GOD
When the judge is invisible and is undeniable perfect love
10/8/2024
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. ©
So conservative the wild animals habits are
And the birds are behaving traditional
But there’s a one animal who’s gone too far
To show off he progressed from original
The results that were reached are impressive
No one dares to deny the Man’s genius
Man was destined to become progressive
Self-boasting and often fastidious
Though his tastes can be fickle at times
He owns one or two constant traits
He kills other men for the reason he likes
To get what he deserves, then he bates
So a Man seems a bit contradictional
In comparison to other animals
Whose behaviour still goes like traditional
Withing their own kind, they’re not enemies
Hear the Orangutan speaks to his son:
“Seen a man, then rush quickly to hide
They spoil what they touch, and they cease everyone
Man’s a killer, who haven’t yet died”.
Women behaving badly
Keep us and life interesting
Joan of Arc a soldier at heart
Sojourner’s truth there’s me there’s you
Sing like an angel
Walk like a saint
Cook like a chef
Clean like a wizard
Work harder than a man
At home and or a job
Paid less than
But still not a snob
Love like a Goddess
Birth like it doesn’t hurt
And still it’s God's will
That we be who he created
The storm came with strength in the night
Fierce lightening bolted to the ground
Thunder pounded, deafening sound
Flashes were everywhere in sight
The sky turned orange in the dark
Vibrations could be felt inside
It was severe, no choice to hide
Ongoing strikes, spark after spark
Roaring continued for hours
The storm seemed to circle not leave
I needed patience for reprieve
Then, more bolts lit up like towers
It seemed like one big angry fist,
Shaking across land West to East
It was behaving like a beast
Determined to be heard, not missed
Heard it was, all around and clear
I hadn't seen it last so long
Echoes of drums without a song
Haunting my breaths as it stayed near
Heidi Sands
7/20/24
*8 syllables
I don't like people saying they wouldn't really spin the time from,
..
..
I realized something.
I always want to spin the time from where I was in 8th grade,
Not to change how I was behaving,
Because this is what made me happy and brought me joy,
I was so innocent that I didn't notice, I want to be like back then.
But I will still grow older,
And I will grow with understanding not always with no knowledge.
Sometimes I was giggling, dancing or just being my silly me.
And then when you sometimes ecountered, I felt embarassed.
I don't know why but my feet felt numb, and I needed to suddenly sit down.
I didn't really felt right from the look of your face,
even though you had a beautifully looking face.
You didn't even look mad at me or annoyed and serious or something I could think that.
It was this everyday normal look.
Maybe because you never used to look at me?
Because we never used to have eyecontact?
Did that make me unsure?
And that made me cry,
when I seeded to disappoint you,
or when I thought I was behaving embarassing..
And that wasn't your fault at all.
I just could never think to lay a hand on your heart.
That's why just was how I was.
But now,
you made me cry,
because your looks are satisfied with fun and your words spit hate over my eyes.
You know what you do and have done.
You knew And you did.
You were sure to do that.
So I cried,
And not in the past with sometimes laughing looking at my sister in shame with cold tears,
but now with red scratches my face made,
to somehow protect my skin from further hot drops that made my skin burn.
Divorce is not the end, my duchess
Stop behaving like a wild lioness
Life is made of strange mountains and valleys
Be patient! Learn how to navigate in the alleys.
Divorce is not death, my love
The sun doesn't shine every day
We must take life as it comes, like a dove
Hope for the future, that's the way.
You have to laugh a little and smile a lot
It's good for your health and for your face
Look up to see the clouds out of space.
I express myself, so I don't go crazy
That's what I'm doing now, my sweet baby
Ring the bell. And I'll come to you like a nut.
Copyright © February 2020, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.
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