a man of towering stature,
mercurial temperament
well-known, his avarice
for absolute power,
a dreadful reputation
for intimidating underlings
in brutal fashion,
unsits the current king,
takes control
of the kingdom.
there's not iron gate
he cannot get past
the strongest of towers,
he could tumble down
his favor cannot be won
by a silver coin.
who has the the courage
to challenge his authority?
he mutes the loudest,
makes whispers
out of their screams,
he fearlessly
takes on giants
he puts away crowns
too heavy for his head
yet, his shadow fills
any room he walks into,
it makes
the proudest bow low,
still, he can never touch
anyone's light,
or steal the love
foreign to him
She sees in bearded baba
a radiating white light
follows him with trust and peace
alone in the bed meets him
for mantra in the ear
only to discover
a rapist narcissist
reciting his ode to sex
in three-word phrases
It was the cool of the night of January 15, 1966
This was the night that changed the trajectory of
a young nation Nigeria
While the 5 majors were striking, Brigadier Maimalari
was celebrating his marriage.
The majors struck terror into the jars
Who struck a tale of terror and of wages
It was the cool of the night
That Nigeria got its first blight
Ever since Nigeria has not been the same.
This is the 60th anniversary of the 1st military
Coup in Nigeria.
(Written on the 15th of January, 2026)
the homeless man who is begging for money
most believe he must be a drug addict or convict
what if you lost your home, your job, your spouse and alone?
you could end up beside him, lost and hopeless
the cheaters, liars and dishonest people
most think they do not know or associate with them
as they sit in the church pews every Sunday
pretending to be honest, pure and holy
some are teachers, bankers, police officers
a facade to fool the best judges of character
Wow, the simple pleasures of life!
Remember when just a tan suit was the highlight and topic of discussion on all the news channels?
Yes, a tan suit had the volume turned all the way up and had them in a complete uproar, not no scandals, no corruption, no Epstein files, no bribery, no delusional post and memes, no need for greed, no late night rants and raves, no self obsessions… just a lil ole plain tan suit.
Well, things have truly changed since then, because look at where we are now, smh.
But, as you can see, this what happens when you turn leadership into leader ssh.
Wow!!! What a difference in a day, a person, a country and a mindset.
I hate the feeling of my tongue on my teeth,
The way my breath hides underneath.
You think a smile is a sign,
To cross my boundaries, blur the line.
You reach for me, one by one;
Until my trust is overrun.
You twist my words into a game,
And somehow I'm the one to blame.
For you it was but a failed attempt,
But to me, it's thoughts I can't repent.
I sit here with a pit in my stomach;
While you move on, still living free.
You were nothing more than a friend to me,
I said that clearly, repeatedly.
You say something strange, I look away.
I change the subject; you laugh and stay.
I trusted you to respect my wishes,
But you turned my silence into permission.
You act as if I owe you touch,
When I never promised you that much.
Even now, I cannot help but think,
I replay each word you made me drink.
My voice is mine, my body too;
I owe no part of me to you.
American wasteland.
It’s a party you’re invited to.
Plan on unstable conditions.
We put incompetence before security,
and disguise your losses as little things.
The corruption's open, unmistakable and court approved.
We’ve undone the shackles of constitutional checks,
and we’re steadily enlarging our jurisdictions.
Independence will be costly, but dependence is invoiced too.
We’ll watch the social thesis melt, as resources dwindle,
and everything becomes more expensive.
If you’re still uncertain of the issues,
you may have the ears of an ass.
You’re all-in whether you know it or not,
and the canaries have stopped chirping.
Is democracy still a plausible success story?
.
.
A song for this:
The Adults Are Talking by Mila Smith [E]
act like you know (feat. Muni Long) by Master Peace [E]
Blood on your hands
The heart of a killer
Corrupted your senses
How does it feel?
Blue eyes turned red
Vomiting on a pile of leaves
But the trees don't care
So how does it feel?
Trading pearls for ebony
Clutching them no longer makes sense
Because this isn't you
I wonder, how does it feel?
The angels flew away
And even demons grimace
You belong to neither
Pray, tell me how does it feel?
If I had my hammer the blows truly and swiftly would land.
Bereft of implement overlong and injurious my task.
The deed, parting and depriving me of it, from your need or greed?
Unfortunately, the Haitian people have everything to lose
They are very fragile, humiliated, vilified, and abused
My people have been suffering for years, for centuries
On the pavement, in the streets, in the harbor and on the high seas.
Our people, our brothers and sisters!
Their wicked leaders once in power, the liars
Change all plans to the detriment of the poor
Who are quickly forgotten in the filthy cans
Their spleen, sweat and blood flow are floating in the sewers
They are despised by hens,
By guinea fowls, by roosters, and all types of demons
It was yesterday that they were applauding like dummies,
Cheering, hoping to be awarded with crumbs and pennies.
These zealous brothers are on fire, they are now deaf and crazy
at the end. Even patience has borders and boundaries
Where greedy, covetous and corrupt officials behave like evil yeasts.
Copyright © January 23, 2016 Logerie Hébert, All Rights Reserved
Hebert Logerie is the author of several collections of poetry.
The tallow guttering upon the stone,
Casts out a dark that swallows up the room,
We learn to walk the heavy void alone.
The shadow thickens to a gilded bone,
A crushing weight that stifles in the gloom,
The tallow guttering upon the stone.
We stumble through the night we call our own,
Where blackness weaves a tight and choking loom,
We learn to walk the heavy void alone.
Yet deep within the dark where grief is sown,
The sight adjusts inside the silent tomb,
The tallow guttering upon the stone.
The blackness yields to light that has outgrown
The blinding sun that withered flower and bloom,
We learn to walk the heavy void alone.
The shadow reveals what day has failed to own,
And burning pain dispels the final doom,
The tallow guttering upon the stone,
We learn to walk the heavy void alone.
to be or not to be
to live or to die
the thick coat of my transgression conclaves within me
what if all I am is what I’ve done?
All I speak, act, and experience
what if all I am is nothing more than a vessel
a lesson to be learned
A body to be craved
A complex tapestry woven within threads of identity action and perception
you take your foot off my throat for just a second
just enough to allow me to come up for air
Delving into the core of what it means to be human
The Color Blue
A blue rinse enhanced her short-cropped hair,
eyelids heavily coated with frosty blue shadow.
Bright blue nail polish drew attention to her gaudy rings.
The blue dress she wore clung tightly to her voluptuous body.
Moonlight shone on the blue fringe of his tallit
which lay, discarded, on the counterpane.
Blue exhaust trailed from their departing car.
AXES OF LIBERTY
Trump-axes seek trees
Bearing liberating fruits:
Their reapings denied:-
OF BOOMARANGING INJUSTICE
No, we can’t say it didn’t happen; it did!
Senate produced and White House directed.
Improvised and played out before our eyes:
And they said the revolution wouldn’t be televised.
However, just check out daily Breaking News
Of Trumpian overtures being played out in classical
Themes of constitutional comedies of errors:-
(And the beat goes on.)
Where noosing ropes once stretched
And pulled innocent necks, we must now take hands
And pull down inking votes, noosing injustice!
Now, in the present of the future’s past, we must show
That truth spat and dumped upon, shall rise again.
Come, let us throw the boomerang of reciprocity,
Shattering the bigoted “in” out of bloody injustice,
Rebirthing the mountaintop of gained justice/-
Remember, it’s better to be aware than sorry:
Our confused and abused youth are watching us:-
Let not history again reduce ourstory to footnotes:
Let us continue to rise, with our eyes still on the prize.
(Let’s not be as Sisyphus; but as Jacob.)
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