My heart's hedera [†]
Like two paragraphs
It breaks [selah]
between you and I
It breaks [selah]
and aches just to look at you
It breaks [selah]
when we fight
And you leave for the night
My heart's hedera [†]
Now twain
Let no one put asunder [selah]
What God has bade
It breaks [selah]
An acceptable sacrifice
[Ampersand] we are humbled, broken and contrite
My heart's hedera [†]
It bereaves [ampersand]
As it reads a melancholy missive
It breaks [selah]
and at the end of our dirge
It beats for one last time, then my soul will merge
(And like a hedera [†]
For further breaking and lamenting of this idol factory
(which is also a pariah)
Consult the prophet Jeremiah)
For crying out loud, the flowers are gorgeous,
Fresh, happy, young, alive, and vivacious.
Regrettably, we, humans, cut their lives short,
From time to time, from events to events.
For God’s sake, let the flowers live like the monuments,
Let them enjoy a long life, like the statues in the court.
Almost every event, like birthdays, weddings and anniversaries,
Is the end for those petals, which are sinking in past memories.
Even the funerals are not sympathetic to the beautiful lilies.
In lieu of flowers, why can’t they write beautiful poems,
Make memorable cards or fake flowers with dead leaves?
Let the flowers live in the garden, and plant them in the cemeteries,
In lieu of flowers, send meaningful poems that inspire dreams.
For crying out loud, please end the customary bereaves.
Copyright © October 2015, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.
"Amid the jagged shadows of mossy leafless boughs;”
Samuel Taylor Coleridge
,
I stand amidst the stillness of the graveyard and browse
My unbearable anguish like drooping flowers surge,
Amid the jagged shadows of mossy leafless boughs,
While hungry birds fly round twittering a plaintive dirge.
The old oak tree now denuded from all its green leaves
Time pass, forlorn eerie mist descends hiding the grave
Then sparkling white snow flutter down, thus my heart bereaves,
Bringing on hopelessness that dear life can never save.
No flowers by request she always maintained and said.
I could not bear to see others hide her from my view,
I disobeyed her and covered her with roses red.
Memories flooded my mind with thoughts that I pursue.
In the pain stillness of my heart, I know death does part
But like the nude oak tree, no one can refill my heart.
For crying out loud, the flowers are gorgeous,
Fresh, happy, young, alive, and vivacious.
Regrettably, we, humans, cut their lives short,
From time to time, from events to events.
For God’s sake, let the flowers live like the monuments,
Let them enjoy a long life, like the statues in the court.
Almost every event, like birthdays, weddings and anniversaries,
Is the end for those petals, which are sinking in past memories.
Even the funerals are not sympathetic to the beautiful lilies.
In lieu of flowers, why can’t they write beautiful poems,
Make memorable cards or fake flowers with dead leaves?
Let the flowers live in the garden, and plant them in the cemeteries,
In lieu of flowers, send meaningful poems that inspire dreams.
For crying out loud, please end the customary bereaves.
Copyright @ March 2009, Hebert Logerie, All Rights Reserved
Hebert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.
"Amid the jagged shadows of mossy leafless boughs; " Samuel Taylor..
I stand amidst the stillness of the graveyard and browse
My unbearable anguish like drooping flowers surge,
Amid the jagged shadows of mossy leafless boughs,
While hungry birds fly round twittering a plaintive dirge.
The old oak tree now denuded from all its green leaves
Time pass, forlorn eerie mist descends hiding the grave
Then sparkling white snow flutter down, thus my heart bereaves,
Bringing on hopelessness that dear life can never save.
No flowers by request she always maintained and said.
I could not bear to see others hide her from my view,
I disobeyed her and covered her with roses red.
Memories flooded my mind with thoughts that I pursue.
In the painful stillness of heart, I know death does part
But like the nude oak tree, no one can refill my heart.
1 November 2021
Placed 1
Selection No. 3 Stillness
''S'' Contest, New Poems Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
i repudiate this clock on the wall
each moment frozen of time
lashes back in internal strokes
against my weary soul
its ticking erupts
like thunderous echoes
within the confines
of my tortured mind
on this darkened night
i slip 'neath the shadows of past
running in circles
trying to escape
the grasp of hands
that taunt like death
eternal torture
through infinite seconds
that beat like this heart of mine
as the pace amplifies through mind
bereaves me of the present again
as i face my own fears once more
unkept from another sleepless night
i arise with the same fury as a sun
beneath the bloodied skies
denouncing the storms
as they rage on
July 2, 2020
Time 8 word Challenge
Sponsored by A Dear Heart
FALLS COMING
Falls coming sometimes when the leaves fall;
I envision them as colored paper shredded;
Wind is blowing cascading march to the breeze;
Quietly awaits the robin as it sees the branches waving;
Joyously bereaves as the trunk is surrounded by squirrels;
Chasing each other merrily around, around and around;
I am sure
That the robin has no need of these…
Fall is falling colors changing odd;
Soon the wind and rain will turn to snow;
I envision white crystals drops of snow;
Frozen tongues on fence post again;
I am sure
Someone’s son or daughter
Of all of these things something will fall;
Just as anything that goes up..
It must surely come down Climate changes
Winter, Spring, Summer Fall
10/6/18
Written by James Edward Lee Sr.
Compensation
Necessity lends wings
weaving silver strings.
Ways of the world
Not yet wise
learn to surmise.
Gamble
Roll the dice
pay the price.
Blind-man's bluff
Blind faith can
divinize a man.
'Till the end
Life is rare
tend with care.
Criminal
A barren mind
dark and unkind.
Fall
Cascading autumn leaves
my heart bereaves.
~09/22/18
~"Six-word couplet series"
contest by Mark Toney
Tyrants of the Ruling Sun
Let the universe swallow my slaving soul
As the sorrows surround the sinking shoal
The light lingers before it falls on my face
Edacious echoes engulfed will embrace
Sisyphean stars of sadness will defuse
The barbarians of Babylon will bemuse
Silent screams slumber in nomadic night
As the dogmas of deceit deluge in delight
Wandering waves of woe thru the mist
The blackness bereaves with a feudal fist
Apparitions appease the malefic mind
Idolatrous illusions a cancerous confined
The red moon menstruates the mirthful
A lunatic laughter of the hidden hurtful
Dimensional demons deft in their defend
In impeccant infinity’s imperious amend.
March.24.2018
Alliteration poem
Sponsored by: Silent One
The whispers of indifference
dispel the glory of the hour
when tender moments meant so much
and roses blossomed on the bower.
we frolicked as the days grew long,
rejoicing in the innocence,
the youthful, gay exuberance,
when love was new and hearts were strong.
Then the shiver of the leaves,
the bitter cold, as one bereaves
the passing of omnipotence,
imprisoned now by circumstance.
The whispers of indifference
dispel the glory of the hour
when tender moments meant so much
and roses blossomed on the bower.
we frolicked as the days grew long,
rejoicing in the innocence,
the youthful, gay exuberance,
when love was new and hearts were strong.
Then the shiver of the leaves,
the bitter cold, as one bereaves
the passing of omnipotence,
imprisoned now by circumstance.
You have apologized to the world
Now apologize to me
For I did not give a swine my pearl
Nor put sugar in the sea
What this house on old foundations
The thinking group domain
What is a beginning without inventions
Where is the new path of pain?
We hear and hear again the old trifle
Our labor's profit squandered
Before our eyes, the stare of the rifle
There some sage has blundered
Only God can fall rain from the top,
Or sun's milk breasting leaves
We must grow things bottom up
The seedless sod the world bereaves.
I did not cry in shackle or in chain
Nor for the strangers whip
But O Cain, how bitterly I weep again
From every speech there falls another drip.
I am left with the human wreckage of my life,
My baggage of bones and clutter, spectres and desire
To slaver around and haunt me until it ends.
To look back is pain, to look forward is fear and to
Stand still is not an option.
I am the pilot of the Cessna and the Cessna is my
Existence; to crash and burn is my prophecy
And my destiny. At times I will continue to do both,
All the while missing you, missing us and missing me.
What I was, I grieve for, what I could have been
Bereaves me and what I am…what I am saddens me
Beyond expression.
I can’t walk out on this feeling,
Alone in no man’s land with just a Rorschach phrase book
Translated by a dysphasic internal language,
A salad of gestures and noiseless slang not even I,
The architect of such communiqués can understand.
And still, in the reverberating chambers of this half-life,
This captivity, I love you, for there is nothing else I can do.
I love you…beyond expression,
And, in spite of heaven’s sake, it
Can never profess
To be enough…
Such love is terminal, over,
Out?