Altho' I'm a common or garden potato
a lighter shade of brown
and you're a turnip who
just my luck fell off the truck
on the ride from the other side of town
I only have eyes for you
but when the chips are down
a brussel sprout I can do without
as for lettuce you may forget us
onion always makes me cry
“Goodbye radish” or so say I
garlic is all very well but not the smell
to the pepper bell a fond farewell
yet the root of the problem
is indeed you see
while I think you're the top of the crop
you don't care a swede for me
When they ask if you're okay,
of course, you say you're fine,
not even noticing
the liquid building
in your eyes.
You walk away
and wearily
with fatigue,
get on with it.
But, get on
what what?
If the band,
was
really
gonna have happened,
we need the one
with compassion,
and natural
glowing
in her eyes.
The polka dots & the popping
of plastic delights,
dares to dance with acid
in our flowing limbs,
the repetitive
of their morning walking
to their death,
while we exhilarate
with heath
and breath.
Do we really care,
if we're climbing
mountains
of their corporate
attire
and lack
of common sense?
Technology has done much good,
but can’t cure the common cold,
it can keep you looking young,
but not from growing old.
'Let your fingers do the walking,'
used to be the plan,
nowadays, it's all thumbs and emojis,
as smart phones dumb down man.
When online, doing a search,
no matter what I type,
the 'engine' always knows best
and 'corrects' my text to the current hype.
Mostly, I'm so tired of being asked,
by AI, 'How did we do?'
when, in the end, I did all the work,
now, how about you?
The sky is blood red
The common bird is the crow
Human flesh is lunch
In common with a swan
And a sneak
Stilled movement; as living art.
Poised. Oblique.
Few people have this God-given gift
Few leaders have this Great Divine lift
Let’s put and keep ourselves together
Let’s gather and assemble the marbles in the center
Let’s keep and hold our head high in the air
Happiness and hope are up there
Few people demonstrate common sense
Few leaders possess good sound sense
Seasons come and go; time comes and goes
And never returns. Let’s stop staring at our toes
Happy and auspicious times are around the corner
Never give up. God is the Supreme Master
He is the only One
And there is only One
Few people possess this God-given lift
Few leaders are blessed with this Great Divine gift.
Copyright © May 2026 Hébert Logerie. All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several poetry books.
A glass of water - nothing grand,
just taken up in my gentle hand.
No polished gold, no glorious fame,
no desperate need for praise or name.
It asks for nothing, but gives me all,
can heal the soul, and heal the fall.
It lives so common, it fades into air -
yet we find its value everywhere.
No crown could match its silent art,
no treasure weighs against its part.
And still it stands, so plain, so clear -
worth more than anything held dear.
I have never had a sense of belonging, I have always been strange to a common Joe in the streets, I have remained resolute in my weirdness, a courageous individual of note, I have always chased clouds, my pen has been a friend to me, a loyal friend indeed, powerful beyond measure, I use it to strike the nerve in this resource driven society, the most outspoken genius Outcast in the history of outcasts.
When neo-Nazis make their racist attacks
We need to remind them of some basic facts
Remind them there’s just one human race
And that we all originated from the same place.
She didn’t come from Bavaria or Alabama
An African woman was the first mamma
A woman with beautiful black skin
Was the source where all our genetics begin.
It’s good there’s diversity in nature and life
And sometimes it leads to trouble and strife
But you can’t really argue about the fact
That our common ancestor was a woman who’s black.
if i have to stay another day it might just drive me mad
im counting weeks without a change, its been twenty nine
i just close my eyes and hope i’ll wake up fine
i just wait and see if i wake up to clear skies
not every meal should make me feel this nauseous
but now every number on the scale makes me more cautious
if i don’t think too much it almost feels like playing a game
my score goes higher the lower each digit gets
at least i’ll never turn to cuts and blades again,
at least not while i still have some common sense
i’ll just try to quietly erase myself
or at least i’ll make some changes while i play pretend
i’m looking for ways to disappear without a trace
right now it feels like that’s the best it gets
all my thoughts and prayers remain unsent
all letters to a god i don’t believe in
but i still wish he’d spare some time to try and save me
if he created me there’s no way he could forget me
at least i know i’ll never turn to cuts and blades again
at least not while i still have some common sense
He's a common man
A man on a mission
Not to cause commotion
But to give liberation
He lives a simple life
Because he got integrity
Fighting against principality
Even when he owns no property.
He's a common man
He's always teaching not preaching
Saying man is the life of lives
Unity is not uniformity
We all got our paths
The reason we emerge
Striving and thriving until we depart.
He's a common man
The commissioner of good vibes
Never take bribes
Even if you're his tribe
He's no that type
This is not a hype
He always says;
Variety is the spice of life
Don't you ever disparage anyone.
There is a push..By a think tanker luke tryl to erase church interest in u k schools.? I
Wonder why.? But chill.' My first idea was is
Thie figure a homo? But that would be typcasting.' Just like slapping on a logo.? Yet sure enough..The answer came.' Like a
Monochrome spectre its mostly always the
Same ' Same old pattern, maybe there is an
Agenda.' Critical thinking.? Just Where does it sit.? In the uniform of conform it seems pushed out.? As a rule.' Almost the
Only standard bit.' Other-think is most in lack..A real mind bender; is it seems is you'll find, out in front; and back.'
Common fields we share
each hand takes a little more,
each wishing to share—
plenty thins; scarcity leers;
common good flounders in lust.
Self shields its own gain,
hunger grasps beyond enough,
past what suffices—
we hoard, hide our greedy grabs
shunning the common good share.
Only when it fades,
grass worn down to barren soil—
do we speak restraint?
too late, or almost too late,
to stop the commons' shared fate.
Satan
Is
Our
Common
Enemy
They said he was finished, his moment long gone,
Buried by headlines from dusk until dawn;
Yet voices of millions rang clear and concise —
A nation stood up for its freedom and rights.
From truck stops and town halls to docks in the rain,
Came Americans done with endless disdain;
They chose not the noise of the ruling class curse,
But a banner that reads: AMERICA FIRST.
Drill bits were turning, pipelines ran fast,
Energy freedom reclaimed at last;
Supply chains anchored in red, white, and blue,
Building again what Americans do.
No longer apologies spoken abroad,
But strength without bluster and peace built on God;
NATO found clarity, rivals took heed —
Firm hands & clear purpose, virtues we need.
Two hundred fifty years carved into stone,
From muskets at dawn to a nation full-grown;
The same rebel spirit still runs in our veins —
Self-rule, strong borders, and freedom sustained.
So mark this return not of man, but of sense:
Of duty and limits, of prudent defense;
Love him or not, one truth now rings clear —
America First is why hope reappeared.
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