Somewhere between when sleep overtakes
and then when I'm not really awake
as if on a film running through my head
the reel unrolls a story unfolds
and I never lose the thread
tho' the plot may be somewhat bizarre
from whence I know not yet never forgot
I find words appear in my mind
from way over yonder out of the blue
and somehow in time I make them rhyme
they're fun for me a game to play with
hope reading them is the same for you
Space Is Far Easier
To Explore Than
Our Own Oceans,
Which I Find
Bizarre.
I Say "We"
Like I'm
Somehow
Diving In
Somewhere,
Fellow Explorers!
Oh Well.
I Don't Know
What I'm
Talking
About.
There's Your
SPACE!!!!!!
-Gray Squirrel
06-18-2025
Bizarre-0
It's Just The Gray One's, Though?
Whoooo RRRR allowed to talk?
I like exceptions alot,
But Mostly.
Uhhhhh...
I'm Trying To Limit What I Say.
Run.
***
Nevermind.
-Gray Squirrel
05-16-2025
That's Bizarre
I Guess It's No:
BIG DEAL
To Never Know
What People Are
Talkin' About.
But, When You
Don't Know What
You're Talkin' About:
THAT'S BIZARRE!
-Gray Squirrel
05-09-2025
Her axiomatic ideas were bizarre
She thought she had invented a flying car
Nothing could convince her she might be wrong
Her absolute conviction in herself is super strong
Her arguments and statements need no evidence
She has decided she will marry a Norway prince
She has no money or way to get over there
We are almost as crazy, to be quite fair.
Oh circular scrunchie
How are you ?
You have been tangled up in women’s hair
For far too long
Scratching the long curly beads
Of millions of youngish females worldwide
For decades now
Connecting brunettes blondes and redheads alike
Protecting the very fabric of femininity
Women’s scalps
Oh bless you oh scrunchie
You are a true survivor
A true victor
Worthy of many accolades
A symbol of strong women everywhere
No more need for Bobby pins
Ponytails are a thing of the past
Long live the scrunchie!
Hair today and here tomorrow!
All poems are unfinished
Only those in sonnet are finished
Completed, done, and terminated
A poem can still be edited
Revised, retouched and rewritten
A poem is a powerful tool or weapon
Leave alone my unfinished poems
These are my spices, my stars, my emblems
You don't understand their symbols
And the words used to fill up the bowls
You just have to read my poems ten times
To fully comprehend them. Ignore the rhymes
To pay more attention to the vernacular
They are not bizarre; they are just particular
They are not regular; they are unfinished
They are not strange, they are simple. Kabish!
Copyright © July 2019, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.
Your love, what a strange rite!
if I get closer to you
further away from you, I become....
In caves prehistoric
Static from minds ecstatic
Lively from minds elastic
Passion from minds romantic
Impression from minds pedantic
Bizarre from minds frantic
From Cro-Magnon to Warhol’s antics
Art pleas images and not semantics.
Anthony Blinken in Israel to plead
for a humanitarian pause
Though Israel contends it would aid Hamas' cause
In the West folks think that Hamas supports the people of Gaza
but they clearly do not, and here's proof positive
While Blinken was speakin,' what was Hamas thinkin?'
They were gunning down Palestinians in cold blood on the highway
for 'the crime' of trying to escape to safety to the south
Seems too bizarre to believe, that Hamas would murder their own!
~ Desperate Palestinians trying to flee the war zone
Paris Down Under
I heard the thunder
all the kangaroos hid
children screamed in fear
the witch, her brew asunder
I calmed the innocent
peace is within my sphere
I danced with a Wolfe
Birds took a glance at philosophy
A druid mumbles
give peace a chance
I swallowed a lemon
said are crazy Sheilas in sanity?
Life full of questions
answers fly in the wind
just remember these wise words
ignore the ugly echo's
of skeletons in the wind
Hey Tom, your heart you wear on your sleeve,
Concisely achieve what a poet does perceive,
Surpassing discerning reporters near and afar,
Keep writing about Putin and his stories bizarre,
You remind me of Churchill, just add a cigar.
I
On the first day of the second week
Creator said, "Help me help the meek,"
Maybe She meant the gentle sex
To empower every lady called "my Ex,"
With hyenas, then, he turned tables: shreik!
II
With Hyenas, there's laughing both ways
Except if you're a male dog, top dog, always
To enjoy that needed ecstasy, delight
The lady you cannot overpower or fight
She has a psuedop-n-s, how Nature delays!
III
To have sexual encounters with hyenas, female -
The male must seek access, or he'll meet a tail
Its a psuedop-n-s, extended cl--oris
Say vets and others who are the experts
Bizzare: she retracts this organ if he's her male!
IV
Still, the tale is not complete
Until we repeat the psuedopen-s is exit
For babies in her womb: she gives birth thence
Painful? I cant say, It may be my pretence
To sound more expert on hyenas in heat
I walk on the edge of unacceptabilities
Experimenting with the bizarre my norm,
And I enjoy flouting the accepted form
Insulting the more refined sensibilities.
I am the product of inquisitive thinking
Gleefully stepping outside the box,
While the conventional laughs and mocks
As its fragile self-esteem is slowing sinking.
Yes, my lifestyle thrives on the reckless
I'm quite aware many turn up their noses
While I show disdain for artificial poses,
And the phoniness of the properly feckless.
written January 18, 2022
A feeling is born inside me-
A lot of feelings-
Clotted blood trampling feelings
volatile, formless yet formidable desires of Rainbow spreading in the wide horizon.
Clutching on to your heart
Your faint sounds of love
Its humming makes the longitude of my desolate still tower of the silent night.
Ever become a boatman on a huge river
I hoist sails over the living Nile
The vibrant white sails of the boat of mind
Moving vessel is basically a dreamy delicate lamp of lifespan running out of oil.
The awakened veins burn in the Latent heat of sleeping volcano
The specific heat spent for one liter of sleeping blood
To raise its temperature by only one degree
The hidden desires of my soul fall down like broken wings
In the melody of the music makes shedding tears.
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