No one could follow the labyrinth of logic in Norman’s head
He is too brilliant for commoners, his overbearing gushy mother said
Norman’s commonsense father had other ideas instead
She makes too many excuses like she did for our runaway son, Ned.
Justice has finally and ultimately prevailed.
The flag of justice and equality is unveiled.
Not only should the guilty commoners be jailed;
Rich, flamboyant, opulent and powerful people
Have their spots in jail also, if they violated,
The laws of the Land too. Guilty purple
Ones must, of course, be incarcerated.
Nobody is above the rules and the law.
Today, I’m giving it to you ‘raw’,
As red as the blood of beef meat.
Justice has finally taken a well-deserved seat,
At the table, on behalf of all to tell it, with ease,
With fairness and with impartiality, like it is,
Somewhere, at the bottom of the harbor, Lady Justice
Is watching divinely and quietly in peace.
Politics is often complicated, filthy and dirty,
And corrupt politicians are evil and naughty.
The dark days of America are rightfully so over.
My friends, slavery and systemic racism are like cancer.
We are still fighting the battles and the vestiges
Of the ugly days in America. The messages
Are loud and clear: nobody is above the law.
Always remember what we read and saw.
Copyright © May 2024, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several poetry collections.
Ah, Democracy, that grand charade
Where every voice is equal made.
But think, what chaos this has bred
With common folk so widely led!
A vote for every man and Bio?
Come now, let's be serious, still.
Why trust the masses with the fate
Of nations large and issues great?
Behold the wisdom of the few
The enlightened ones who truly knew
The paths to power, gold, and oil—
Why let the commoners this spoil?
They debate in squares, protest in streets
Disturb our peace with angry tweets.
Why suffer noise from every faction
When silent work breeds true satisfaction?
Our forebears knew a simpler time
When power was held by birth—sublime!
No need for ballots, polls, or stance
When lineage alone advanced one's chance.
Think of the money saved from polls
The forests spared from ballot rolls.
Let's toast to simpler, quieter ways
Where few decide the nation's days.
Can you hear what I'm hearing?
I hear a cry, loud and clear,
blowing across the nation from sea
to shining sea; from the lowlands
and valleys in the east to the
highlands and mountains of the west.
It is the CRY OF THE SOUL!
From New York City to San Francisco,
Miss Liberty feels a threat. Her bell rings
out far less Bill of Rights. I hear cries
of agony dressed in fear and protest.
It is the CRY OF THE SOUL!
Such a cry can only be sounded by those who.
have tasted the sweetness of freedom and would
rather die than live without its liberty.
It is the CRY OF THE SOUL!
Such is not a cry encumbered with a thirst for
things material, but rather one from the soul,
bleeding red, white, and blue tears enough to
fill the nation's lakes, rivers, and reservoirs.
It is the CRY OF THE SOUL!
Hear ye well, every social class, rich or poor,
educated, elites, or commoners. We do well to listen
to the soul's cry. Such a cry cannot be bought or sold,
will never go on vacation, be placated, or evaded.
It is the CRY OF THE SOUL!
gorgeous kind-hearted empathetic
motivated lady godiva
usually dressed to the nines
taught her husband a lesson
showing off what he was missing
to the ones he referred to as commoners
the king travelled incognito
mixing among the commoners
both delighted and also envious
of how they find joy in simple things
content even in poverty and shortages
and then the king discovered their secret
they were all centred in heart
and not in narrowness of mind
even after garnering this deep knowing
the king was unable to become as such
for he was not yet like Gautama Buddha
08-April-2023
Why marrying a poor ?
It is good to ask many riches
Who fallen in love with poormen or women.
Sometimes rich
people say , "
marrying
another
rich ,
it
is
an
open
competition
in
life ,
better
a poor
who
will
need
your
help
and
respect
you."
Every person
has right to
rise up his " her"
opinions in life.
It is hard to define love
It is hard to criticise love
It is hard to impose love
I saw doctors marrying uneducated people.
I saw kings marrying commoners.
I saw generals marrying constables.
When two rich people marry ,
one must put is ego down
to live in the World of the other one.
When
the
heart
burns
by
love,
Its
only
healer
will
be
the
person
it
loves.
March 20/2023
By Alfonso Warally Ngengethe Mussabwa Chris
Build them wider, taller
let us reach for the sky
when we run out of bird's
we'll clip angels on the fly
90,000 lb. sperm whale
wandering, searching for
his misplaced tail...
but elite global outlets will
never fail....only us commoners
stuck in the dark, our vehicles
needing, only one gear~ Park!
Be it kings, commoners no less,
Know, humanness is not in dress.
In rage nor yet is it in love,
A raging sage has it no less.
Words nor manners make any case,
In kindness, not in mere embrace.
Not oft traced in a holy place,
In act, not just in kindly face.
Faced on Judgment Day upon death,
It’s not in lifetime’s tall address.
It is in lifelong commitment,
Not when life breaks for short recess.
It's not something in an oath to confess,
Humane to be, not else is humanness.
_________________________________
Ghazals |06.01.2023| humanity
Don't talk about Chloe's Paradise:
All about surplus bags of rice
Commoners hate their present price
And now don't near without advice.
Tell me of other paradise:
Chloe had reached his through some thrown dice;
A means you and I could devise:
Chloe's source of wealth 'A Twin Of Vice'.
Envy I not Chloe's paradise:
Why would one heads soon to host lice?
Prophesy I cruel strikes by mice
Of Chloe's Rice they adore like plaice.
Bags of rice never paradise
Or I'll include Bread Cake a big slice.
You are looking at Citadel:
The High School now sounding her bell
In all corners of the globe
Every child for king’s robe.
Ladder up the life-lifting zone;
Commoners for Crown and Throne;
A superb blend of business
And few seconds’ laziness!
Now time for bed and the sweet sleep,
Soon time to read and make it deep;
The child communing with The Lord
And relying on His Wrought Sword…
Now, the school-child in uniform
Later reminder:”it is dorm…
Seeks citadel what is noble,
Man has, for long, been ignoble.
So, what purpose these wars serve?
Why on earth everyone is silent?
If everyone wants peace,
Then who the hell is fighting?
How can some 'big' people decide the fate of millions?
Why the suffering ones are the commoners?
What about the kid who just became an orphan?
What about the bride who became a widow shortly after marriage?
What about that old couple who just lost their loving son?
How can people turn a blind eye, at all of them?
What are we going to get from all these fights and battles?
The laws made to save humanity seems to make no sense at all.
Mark my words,
Nobody ever wins in a war.
Both sides ends up with the same suffering and misery.
A shimmering siren hovers sixteen feet below the ocean’s surface
Her Macral fins glide effortlessly, as she slows down her activity
The ocean liner is but two hundred knots ahead; she feels humbled.
Cheriche recognizes it by its whistle; her sailor is aboard this ship!
Her glittering iridescent scales flash in bursts of silver, aqua and teal.
Like a cashmere mist, she would be noticed and revered, except….
Her spiritual orbs protect her from being seen by commoners.
Cheriche sees a flash of purple; it is Sashay, her most unique orb.
“He is here!” It is the cry of the romantic, and it inspires the mermaid.
Cheriche wants to lift herself to the surface, but she dares not.
The ocean liner is cutting through waves, directly over her head.
There is a splash. “Your sailor!” Her faerie godmother says. “Go get him!”
He plunges past her, and keeps going, down enormous depths.
Can she save this one? She kicks her dorsal fins double time.
Determined to try…..
She lights up the entire surrounding.
She's absolutely the genuine article.
I tell you, she's out of my league.
Adorable, with a touch of intrigue;
She smiles and waves at me as she quietly comes and goes.
Neither a swagger nor bragger.
She's not a pink, white, or red rose,
But forces one to stare at her pose.
She's short-lived, but arresting.
Beautiful and captivating,
She's classy, a real 'looker'.
But often missing in action
Because her season is brief.
Tall, colorful, and alive,
With the look of royalty.
Yet she fits well among commoners.
Gracing the entry of our flower garden,
She's embraced by yesterday
with a never-ending story.
She dresses in purple,
And looks stunning.
Her name is Iris.
060522PSCtest, Purple Flowers, Nayda Ivette Negron Flores
2P
The cards were a prop
Commoners like them
They tell her nothing
She is a psychic
Clarity comes from her spirit guides
She studies the cards carefully
Fabricating elaborate meanings
To keep the man interested
He is a nonbeliever
Her open channel slams shut
Tell him nothing her spirit guides say
I cannot take your money, she tells him
I apologize but the spirit guides are not speaking today
Maybe this one was the real deal he tells his wife later.
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