Best Vere Poems
The Plea, Heal Me After All That I Have Been Through
You a heavenly body. So sweet
Your kisses would make this heart skip a beat,
Paying you adoration, shall be a great treat,
Since that summer, time and love have both flown
Your tender heart knows not how I have grown,
And my past ways now do truly disown,
Among winter's weeping and dying leaves
Lives a broken soul that so deeply grieves,
Its prayers begging from above, reprieves,
Now that days too oft resembles dark nights
Moon balks, refusing to alter its sights,
My darkness absolute, I cry for lights,
You a true goddess so wondrously made
To see again, anything I would trade,
Alas! Pray I your image will not fade,
Your exaltation, weeping spirit weaves
From dreams of touch that never deceives,
For greatest of hope, this mortal believes,
Good things come to he who faithfully waits
begging love's rewards, not tempting dark Fates,
to deny true love again before the Pearly Gates,
O' goddess, mercy please return to me
Without you I am as a dying tree,
A ship in a dark and deserted sea,
Look upon this wretched dishearten man
For truth in your love restore if you can,
Holding you once more, has been my plan,
These many decades heart has deeply bled
Holding memories of our nights instead,
Now abandoned I feel entombed and dead,
Return your love lost before I perish
For no other beauty do I cherish,
End my torment that is so nightmarish,
Let true romance gift us our love anew
In heaven's light, be we wedded as two,
Heal me after all that I have been through,
You a heavenly body. So sweet
Your kisses would make this heart skip a beat,
Paying you adoration, shall be a great treat,
R.J. Lindley, November 9- 1979
Tripled Rhymes,
( Words cast from a shattered soul and broken heart )
Note:
This dark into a torn apart heart eats
birthing ravages from deep epic defeats
as day and night hurl grief as falling pain
and I seek that no mortal can attain!
Ubi amor vere mortuis resurrectionem non esse?
Categories:
vere, art, deep, feelings, heart,
Form:
Rhyme
Spring comes
Quietly--
Not with the bleating of lambs or
The tweeting of birds or the
Beating of butterfly wings
Spring comes
Silently--
Celtic through the Neolithic stones,
Unheralded by peering shadow-seekers
Rummaging around on the Second of
February, and unannounced by a
Banner on the front page of the
National Enquirer…
Unpresaged by pregnant April
Showers,
Spring comes--
Alive
Nota bene: This is one of the few pieces of juvenilia I have preserved. It was written when I was at college (the University of Florida), in 1979, when I was in the English Department High Honors Seminar. We had an assignment to write a poem about Spring, but to try not to fall into the usual cliches. I thought it might be fun to mention some of those cliches ironically. We had one-on-one tutorials with a number of well-known novelists and poets; one of mine was with the poet Richard Eberhart. He told me he liked this poem and that it was a good one, so I have kept it these four decades.
Categories:
vere, april, mystery, nature, silence,
Form:
Free verse
The Tribute To Jennifer
In a small church on a hill, there are a group of people standing
in silence as they say goodbye to a loved one, who they will all miss.
We will start this tale from the beginning, it was nearing Christmas
And Jennifer and her friends were partying at her house, everything
was going fine, the turkey in the oven and the stockings set for Santa's
Visit, the mother and father went out, so they could all have a good time
As the evening progressed Jimmy, Jennifer's boyfriend said they needed
Some more drinks, so he wanted Jennifer to come with him to the bottle
Shop, she decided to go with him while the rest of the crowd partied on.
They got in the car and travelled down the road about two kilometres
As they were approaching the traffic lights, a car pulls alongside them
Jimmy was an impulsive type who loved the challenge to a road race,
But they were both unaware what was to happen next, as the intruding
Car pushes through the lights, they both excellerate into the night by
Now they were speeding around 80kph, they are followed by a police car
So they both go faster, the intruder flees to the right while Jimmy tries
To stop but the brakes fail, causing the car to vere off the road crashing
Into a light pole, Jimmy's face is lacerated, but when he looks towards
Jennifer, she is badly hurt, the policeman calls for an ambulance to take
His girlfriend to hospital, he is taken to the police station to make a
Statement and to later see his girlfriend at the hospital, however the
Telephone rings to tell Jimmy that Jennifer had passed away, Jimmy was
Found to have a large blood alcohol reading and was arrested; they
Let Jimmy out to go to Jennifer's funeral, Jimmy felt so guilty about
What he had done, he has lost his wonderful girlfriend over being so
Foolish while driving the car, his Christmas was blackened and he would
Never forgive himself for what he had done, on the day of the funeral
He broke down into tears along with his family and friends as they all
Left the cemetary in the church, very saddened at the loss of Jennifer.
This is her story and the moral to it is to never drink and always
Be responsible when you are driving a car, this is the tribute to Jennifer.
Categories:
vere, tribute,
Form:
Epitaph
When you are young your life is not about you
You it owe to them for love, for sacrifice and rent
Youth is the margin of our parents ever do
The young know their life only by old consent
My father was doctor with animals in his care
The blackest and the first of them in that space
My mother was the Jill of every trade, a rare
Exhibit of beauty in a working class of grace
He out of the dry parish, made ladder with brains
And climb to wring the clouds of dreams. He
Matured from church school teacher, got the reins
Fathoming figures, Maroon boy in ascendancy:
Policeman, black sergeant, parting the waves
Clerk of the Court while colonials made war
Thespian for Vere John, the black hole craves
Everything it cannot be like a wounded star.
He did well when the war was done though. Some
Whites came back alive, and their substitute yield
So they coud find their sinecure. He got a ransom
From gruelling things too, a cut above the common field
His lettered mind scholarship him there
And this society that prevented cruelty to beast
Gave that astute mind its golden stair.
From slum investments father rose to feast.
He loved rebellion, it was his poetry, yet not he
But mother was the rebel, leaving father's house
Breaking bonds with tradition and its morality
To bring my sister weddingless, to choose her spouse
And refuse them regardless. Family's wealth
She forsook, and took the rudder of her life
Compassless to sea. All winds and surge she felt
Survival was the only fun in her fracture strife.
It walloped her, the storm of winds and fire
Three children and no way back through flames
Churning like a sword, waist deep wading mire
Her soul unshaken its sovereign pride proclaims
My own daily lessons that core my manhood
Father's love of learning, mother's pride
And I drifting in that Ark since the old flood
Left me in a barren place where wants divide
Categories:
vere, history, life, philosophy, father,
Form:
Verse
Everything fades away
softly or harshly glowing,
growing smaller,
end of cycle
already written
in the fabric.
None
to escape the thrill
and fascination,
all the pain
to dry in the sun
'til hard and withered
we lay down
to feed the grass
beyond the pines.
It's been marked-
there's a stone
already for my Neverland,
where everything that happened
could've been something else.
I should've been Pearl De Vere.
Among those ones
who gave up easy for the kind
of fame that creeps
from joyous burial mound
to wash us with stories
that don't need roses
for happy endings.
Lighting fuses not
to watch them burn-
but burn if must!
They didn't run.
Our nature shakes
beneath the core of us.
We tremble in ways
we can't outrun.
And they whisper-
Why so ever wish
to run?
Categories:
vere, autumn, happiness,
Form:
Rhyme
Oh, Pandora
I adore ya
Won't you come an see;
I will care for you;
Honor and adore you;
Your beautiful
Oh, Oh, oh Pandora;
Majestically we will be;
there's a honor, with no drama;
You were meant for me, could it be;
That I love you so;
Could it be
We were meant for me, Oh;
Could it be
I don't just know, all I know is that you're lovely;
so lovely, so lovely
I love her...
Pandora
Majestically we will be
There's a honor with no drama;
You were meant for me;
Could it be
That I love you so
Could it be;
We were meant to be, Oh
Could it be;
I don't just know, all I know is that you're lovely, so lovely
lovely so lovely
Pandora
I love her so
Spanish verse 2.
Oh, Pandora
Te adora ya;
No viene in vere;
Se cuidan
Honrar y adorer
Eres precioso
Oh, oh, Pandora
Majestuosamente estaremos;
Es in honor, no hay drama;
Singificaron para mi;
Podia ser de
Que te amo asi Podia ser de
Nosotros estabamos destinados a ser, Oh
Podia ser de
No se, todo lo que se es
que eres encantador tan encantador, tan encantador
La quiero...
Pandora
majestuosamente estaremos;
Es in honor,
no hay drama
Significaron para mi;
Podia ser de
Que te amo asi
Podia ser de
Nosotros estabamos
destinados a ser, Oh podia ser de
No se, todo lo que se es
que eres encantador tan encantador, tan encantador
La quier...
Pandora
08/17/17
Written words & Arranged music by James Edward Lee Sr.
Categories:
vere, character, dedication, for her,
Form:
Free verse
Quote by Vere X. Campbell
Keola – Rhyme
I know people who exist in darkness,
NO persuasion altering illusions,
Not ONE spark EVER pricking the shadows;
their sight IMPAIRED by inky conclusions;
THEIR draperies are ever tightly drawn;
opaque lenses distorting weak EYESIGHT
BY always LOOKING ON the negative,
THE lovely morning viewed as black of night.
I know others facing difficulties,
With expectations of a future, BRIGHT.
They choose the best, the joyful SIDE, of life,
Advancing forward, facing toward the light.
February 28, 2022
Categories:
vere, encouraging, motivation, perspective,
Form:
Rhyme
E dopo tutto, tutto questo, amore mio
Ti amo, ti adoro e ti amerò per sempre
Dopo tanto trambusto e confusione
Dopo tanto caos e tribolazione
Dopo tante sfide folli
Dopo tanti divertenti conflitti
Dopo tante false accuse
Dopo tante deboli opposizioni
Dopo tante vane umiliazioni
Dopo tanti atti terribili
Dopo tanti testamenti
Dopo tanti giuramenti
Dopo tanti sogni strani
Dopo tante vere bugie
Dopo tante incomprensioni
Dopo tante pazze suppliche
Dopo tante discussioni inutili
Dopo tanti sguardi inutili
Dopo tanti miscugli e pericoli
Dopo tante manie e gesti infantili
Dopo tanti insulti e chimere
Dopo tanto disprezzo e guerre paramilitari
Dopo tante litanie ruggiti
Dopo tante reazioni laconiche
Dopo tanto amaro trambusto
Dopo tanti discorsi capovolti
Dopo tanti poemi elegiaci
Dopo tanti sguardi demoniaci
Dopo tanto silenzio incredibile
Dopo tanti giorni e notti di noia
Dopo tanti sudori ubriachi e malaticci
Dopo tante lacrime rapide e furtive
Dopo tante cose che non oserei dettagliare
E dopo tanti altri che non vorrei elencare
Ti amo, ti voglio e continuerò ad amarti
L'amore è una follia gonfia di desideri inesplicabili
Parole e testi a volte sono strumenti incapaci
Per definire correttamente il destino e le esegesi dell'anima
Nessuno è perfetto tranne l'immaginazione della donna
Gli uomini sbagliano sempre. Gli uomini forti non hanno
Mai la ragione appropriata qualunque sia la stagione
Dopo tutto, tutto questo, mia bella rosa
Il firmamento non diventerebbe cupo
Il vento primaverile è arrivato a inghirlandare la natura
Gli uccelli volano e cantano. Che felice avventura
Il futuro dirà il resto. Come uno scriba in verve, non vedo l'ora di scrivere
E dopo tutto questo, ti amo e voglio confermare tutte le mie parole.
Traduzione di "After All, All These, My Pretty Rose" di Hébert Logerie
Copyright© febbraio 2022, Hébert Logerie, Tutti i diritti riservati
Hébert Logerie è autore di diverse raccolte di poesie.
Categories:
vere, anger, anti bullying, beautiful,
Form:
Free verse
Mistress al' Vere
I NEED THEE EVERY HOuR
MOST HEARD TESTIMONY
NO TENDER VOICE LIKE EXALT
AFFORD TEMPTATIONS CAN
I NEED THEE; O I NEED THEE;
EVERY HOuR I NEED THEE !
OBLESS ME NOW, MY SAVIOR
I COME To THEE !
PRAYER IS THE BURDEN OF A Sigh
THE FALLING OF A TEAR.
THE UPWARD GLANCEING OF AN EYE
WHEN NON BuT ENDURE is NEAR.
Categories:
vere, adventure, anti bullying, bible,
Form:
Rhyme
"You are on a journey and all the answers are whispered without words"
Quote by _ Constance
I was driving on a highway and snow was falling
but, it was nothing to worry about
however, an hour out the snow was quite heavy
and a wind was blowing wildly
the highway slippery
around a curve the traffic had stopped
so, of course I had to stop too ... so I did
I was adjusting the radio when I looked in my mirror
and saw a huge transport truck coming at a very high speed
I thought it was going to slow down and stop, but it did not
my car was hit in the rear and I was flying over the cars
I looked down and thought ... how is this possible
it is as though my car had wings
and at the same time I heard a whisper "not time"
my life did not flash in my mind as I had heard happens
as my car came crashing down on the highway medium
and I heard a loud crunching sound
then, I was spinning and spinning, spinning
when the car stopped
the police were there and helped me out
I looked at my car and there was nothing left
from behind the front seat the car was split in two
a policeman said to me, "it was not your time, Miss"
as I was walking away the car was hit by oncoming traffic
that's when the tears came and I was shaking
there is no way I should have survived that accident
and I am quite sure there was a spiritual intervention
God, was not ready to have me with him in heaven
my whole body ached, and I was bruised
but I was not dead
obviously I still had things to do on earth
God had expectations for me
that is the message I carry in my soul
so, until it is truly my last breath
I will treasure the gift of life each new day
and honor the gift of words that God bestowed to me
that message I heard loud and clear
for we never know when God will call our name
and take us home ...
the snow thick and wet
fierce wind roaring like a train . . .
cars lay in pieces
______________________
January 13, 2023
Poetry/Free Vere/the whisper- not your time
Copyright Protected, ID 01-1517-416-13
All Rights Reserved, 2023, Constance La France
Submitted to the Standard contest, A Spiritual Wisdom Download
sponsor, Unseeking Seeker, Judged 01/16/2023
First Place
Categories:
vere, spiritual,
Form:
Free verse
O'vr far are the vestavules
vere where'st thile rise
Stile spile forle the bestabule
of chosed classed sighs
Categories:
vere, analogy, nonsense,
Form:
Quatrain
Ask our beloved late brother John W. Ono Lennon
He would tell you straight: ‘There’s No Heaven’
People on Earth are lunatic, crazy and flashy
They destroy or ravage everything they see
They don’t believe in brotherhood or unity
Yet they dream and aspire to live in paradise
For what? Why? That’s a farce, a prank, a disguise
They should first organize their affairs well on Earth
Before thinking or dreaming of going or flying there
They want to go to Heaven, but they’re afraid of death
They want absolute happiness, yet they’re freaking unfair
Racist, ignorant, superstitious, arrogant and jealous
Nobody can prove vere, verbatim et literatim that Heaven exists
We can talk, chat, shout, curse, rhyme and sing all we want
People are crazy, loud and gaudy. They sing, moan and rant
People always imagine or invent things that arouse desire and grandeur
Let’s start with Peace and Love, and then we’ll move up the ladder.
Copyright © July 2024, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several poetry collections.
Categories:
vere, brother, imagination, in memoriam,
Form:
Rhyme
After Lenore, by Edgar Allan Poe
Broken—yes—the golden-locked and beautiful Lenore,
Gone from us forevermore, to grace our eyes no more.
And thou, De Vere, who scornful stands with hollow, cold disdain—
It’s clear to all, thy mournful cries are pitiful and vain.
Let the exequy commence! Let sorrow find its voice,
While thou, false mourner, face thy fate—be judged for thy dark choice.
A dirge for golden Lenore... a sentence for thy choice.
Wretched art thou—who dared to love, yet sowed death’s bitter seed,
For ‘twas her gold you hungered for, and slew her out of greed.
How shall the charges now be read? What scaffold shall we raise?
By us—the wretched throng—who cry for justice in these days.
For her sweet death lies not with fate, but thee who bears bloodguilt.
Peccabilis—yes, thou art! And parricida still,
For murder foul, thy cursed soul we doom to deepest hell.
Fair Lenore lies cold and low by her false lover’s hand,
Who slew his bride for avarice, and hungered for her land.
And now she sleeps beneath the soil, while thou dost breathe and lie,
With golden light upon her hair—but death within her eye.
The light remains upon her locks—yet thou didst let her die.
Conticent! Beastly ruffian—thy lies shall mask no more,
The cry went up, the charge is set: blood calls from every door.
Let the noose be drawn to avenge Lenore’s sweet soul,
And when thy breath is choked away, we’ll cast thee in a hole.
The fiends below await thy shade to feast upon thy boast,
While Lenore ascends in light to join the heavenly host.
For grief thou sowed when death thou wrought—
And now thy soul shall roast.
Categories:
vere, dark, gothic, judgement, poetry,
Form:
Lyric