The first time I saw them was amazing.
Both of them had a beauty that would make my heart blush.
Like Hilton and Lohan, they had a pose that would send my heart blazing
Having a conversation with them would make my mind feel rushed.
Especially when Lan would wear a Lara Croft-style dress with flower petals.
Oh, do not be so coy, Lan. We knew that it was hot and that you wanted to capitalize on it
You had class even with flower petals.
Your face is red because you are afraid to admit it! (KISS)
Kathleen was always in a dress fitted to her form
Elegance from a pharmacist, even when the nylons were away from the March weather’s heat
Her physical beauty was matched by her internal beauty from
Her form was complemented by her taste for different cuisines, especially those with meat.
Both of them are beautiful
A sight that is viewtiful
Name of the Contest: Snow Fantasy or Christmas Nostalgia Poetry Contest.
Sponsored by: Constance La France.
"Don't Christmas bells peal through each passage of time?" - Poet.
I think of the times when I was a child.
How, with glittering new garments, I smiled!
The stars, bells, and the animal idols...
Everything resembled solemn idylls.
My adolescence didn't change things much.
I had, then, imagined your gentle touch.
Hymns and carols gave a serene feeling.
Every scene in the church seemed appealing.
Nothing can be compared with that Christmas.
In which each thing, for us, was auspicious
In time's grace-filled tapestry, our threads met.
Our life, like the polestar, seemed to be set.
Our children adorned the cribs, then, each year.
With cuisines and gifts, we had unique cheer.
They got married, had children, and time passed.
We stood, to each other, always steadfast.
Fate has taken you away from me now.
I share my joys with each one, anyhow.
I find your image in knick-knacks and gifts.
I'm feeling within too, the time's soft shifts.
"My things as you."
People as Friends and kettles?
"My things as you."
The witness deprived
Absorbent in deny
How in interchange
Are we spoken
Misleading waste
Papers as snakes
Only in cuisines
Last, hander of things
Gone in time
Decade of take
Sales of ink
And all town
How to announce
Tone?
And all are tow'n
Being towed in the time
Time of all Involved as microcosm In discussion from?
Fearing reprimand of ink as letters ?
Allowing incorrect Consistent sing
the blind justices repeal?
Confound surrender?
Your not printing the article
Your afraid of reading
And the "free" cost!
Remains are extensive
The times grow small inside of earths journals
My sistas
A good woman once prevailed
Yet as her eyes sight the abandonment vessel
Reluctant wrath hatred vision
Prometheus googles
Declare upon the abomination
This place the unaffected
"Food is our common ground, a universal experience." - James Beard
Spice-sweet-sour-salt-starch-blended
dumplings, like dim sum...
Fish, meat, or greeneries filled
enzyme-fiber-mixed
nutrient cuisines...
They thrill my
tongue...
Summer heat fades away.
The crisp nip of an Autumn breeze
brings in skeletal trees without leaves.
Soon comes the icy winter night;
the gnawing frostbite.
Spring provides a moment of warm peace
until grey skies bring storms of grief.
Summer is the true season of release.
I pray for a sunny day.
I long to bask in humid July air,
listening to Cicadas sing,
staying up long past dark,
and shooting fireworks in the park.
We dress in our nation’s color schemes
fishing in lakes and swimming through streams.
Vacation is all that we need.
In July I will never run out of things to do.
Backflip on some rickety trampolines
or bike ride to Timbuktu.
Try thousands of cuisines.
Find new animals at the zoo.
Relax and fly the banners of red white and blue,
because July waits for you too.
I’m watching the icicles dripping,
Reminded of ten years ago,
When I held up my grandson to watch them,
All the things then that I couldn’t know.
How he’d soak up so much he was learning
And prove to be clever and smart;
How his joy in our moments together
Would tattoo him right onto my heart.
How he’d love to hear all kinds of music
And would shine when he played the trombone;
How his passion for reading and language,
Which we’d shared, he’d continue alone.
How some interests would serve to sustain him -
New cuisines, tech advances and school,
While some others would fall by the wayside -
Making maps, which were detailed and cool.
There will be so much more in the future
That his mind will grab onto and hold,
But when we watched the icicles dripping,
So much living had yet to unfold.
They are eating the dogs
They are eating the cats
They are eating the pets
They are eating the wild hogs.
In the early 20th “c”, Germans used to eat blockade mutton
That’s absolute truth. It’s a shame that this felon
Is desperate and going wild. The dude is a pathological liar
Who will do anything. He’s a tremendous cheater.
Immigrants do not eat the pets
Especially Haitians who love chickens
Tassot or griot meats, black rice and beans.
Haitians love Soup Joumou with lots of carrots
Haitians enjoy one of the best cuisines on the planet
Liar, liar, nobody is perfect. That’s correct.
Copyright © October 2024, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of numerous collections of poetry.
I like all of my romances to be so cheesy.
I also like a romance that can be so sleazy.
I like all of my pastas sauces' so creamy.
I also like all pizzas that are so yummy.
I like feeling like I am living in Rome
With a Mediterranean man flirting with me in my home.
I like feeling him all up from top to bottom,
In all of the ways that surprisingly please him.
I like all of what he always is to me,
In him is a man longing to be set free.
I like feeling so high in the sky with him,
In all of the ways he fulfills my every whim.
I like this romance because it is the cheesiest
In ways that also make it one of the easiest.
I like eating foreign cuisines with him mostly,
In those moments I dine most gratefully.
From their backs being the beds
Of comfort for the children crying,
To being the chefs in the kitchen
Preparing 'out of the world' cuisines.
Their hearts, a deep ocean
Of love, tenderness and caring
Their arms wide open for hugs of warmth,
To whom can you compare them?
They are stars, always shining
Yet barely appreciated,
They are waters,
Daily quenches thirsts
Yet barely appreciated,
They are diamonds,
Rare to find
yet priceless in value,
I wonder what value the would be
Without them
I once could enjoy the songs of the ocean
The beautiful sounds of nature
Moving across the blue waters
But now i can only enjoy the breeze
That moves on my skin by the shore
I once could listen to the angry traffic
At the hooting and cursing in busy streets
Or the market seller competing at their prices
But now i can only watch as they throw hands in the air
And watch how they make faces at each other
I once could hear the clarion call of the kadhi
Calling out to worshipers to go to the mosque
Or could hear as the drummers went by during weddings
But now i can only smell the many scents in the air
Of udhu or the swahili cuisines on the fire
I once could listen to music
And let the song take me off my feet
And dance the young night away
But now i feel the beats from where i sit
And feel the rhythms echoing from my heart
Some days i miss feeling all that
But this days i enjoy the new way,
I had given up on ever feeling the excitement
While all it took was for me to listen closer
Cause it lives with me in my heart
The PO£T
When I joined poetry soup,
I thought to find free daily soup
From different world junior and senior poets.
By my surprise I found best quality cooked foods,
Which I could eat without knowing their ingredients
That pushed me to concentrate in African cuisines
To be sharing different African foods
With the world poets and others.
May 30/2023
By Alfonso Warally Ngengethe
Mussabwa Chris
midst chilly weather
walk our little kids barefoot ---
torn clothes mock at us
birds of the air search
beasts of the wild work hard too ---
flora and fauna...?
cuisines varied set
on tables of the wealthy ---
the poor salivate
22 January 2023
On Lake Ontario's northwestern shore
sits a city of awe, beauty, and lore.
Toronto is where sports built the SkyDome,
and the Maple Leafs and Raptors call home.
Its renowned entertainment district lures
trendy tourists with its late-night bar tours.
And world-class restaurants offer cuisines
befitting the palates of kings and queens.
We built the CN tower to pierce the sky
one thousand eight hundred fifteen feet high.
And every spring, folks race up to the top
for nature, and that's not going to stop.
Torontonians say please and thank you
and allow cut-ins when standing in cue.
And our city hall hosts a skating rink,
it sounds extraordinary, don't you think?
(Rhyme)
12/23/2022
Take Me There Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Margarita Lillico
It's a fantasy-fair; great games in thread
Some in merry-go-rounds flow in full swing
He stands, smiling and laughing, eyes wide spread
Some, in hope-doubt smiles, to shoot balloons, ding
Some ride on camels as on a true war
Some in merry-go-rounds flow in full swing
Some seeing lions in pretty-cases, roar
Some, around tentative pools, feed penguins
Some ride on camels as on a true war
Some in bird-fly-fairy costumes spread wings
Some, cuisines in mouth, color spittle bleed
Some, around tentative pools, feed penguins
What shakes! What sips! What hot-cold drinks, indeed
To him, a poor boy, these tell wild tales
Some, cuisines in mouth, color spittle bleed
Fun and frolic mixed cocktails and mock-tails
It's a fantasy-fair; great games in thread
To him, a poor boy, these tell wild tales
He stands, smiling and laughing, eyes wide spread
12 November 2022
Cherishing The Triumphs of others,
Ready for their suicidal orders:
Spellbound by their Astonishing Peaks,
These discussing for tireless weeks:
The Tall Mountains France has ascended,
In their praises lowly descended …
Marvelous ideas of US Tribes,
Whereas they can challenge their own scribes;
World Bests’ become their Third Cousins,
Only last week with them tasty cuisines
New Types Good Morning at 6:00am
Man City shall Chelsea serve Bad Yam
Or, it has not been The Infrequent:
BARCA has huge faith that doesn’t faint!
And it has been a commendation:
The Gooks’ Breakthrough and Mediation,
Their Steadfast Wondrous Technology
And luck with Global Synergy;
A mockery of their own delays
In the running of The Spread-out Relays
Their own strides hurting with crossed fingers ...
Improvement on Hand-Made Bombs lingers.
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