Miscommunication
I told her she looked elegant
But she just heard elephant
Oh don’t get me wrong I quipped
And before I could stop it slipped from my lip
I do love the pachyderm
‘My mistake,’ I thought, and began to squirm
The look on her face was clear to all
No time to wait no time to stall
I said ‘elegant, the dress is a beaut’
You don’t look fat at all - just nice and cute’
Oh dear I think I just made it worse
Silently she mouthed a curse
To set things aright I must attempt
For from her wrath I am least exempt
‘Elephant is the furthest thing
Your ears aren’t that big and your trunk don’t swing’
I stammered and stuttered
My heart skipped and fluttered
Silent no more ‘YOU’ came the trumpet
My sweet wife became an angry strumpet
All by a word simply mistaken
And so I sleep ne’er to awaken
I am spatially inept;
My brain just won’t work that way.
That is why I’ve always kept
Certain challenges at bay.
For my class’s Lone Star Quilt,
We have started now to sew,
Yet my spirits might soon wilt
As frustration starts to grow.
Parallelograms we’ve cut
Out of fabrics of our choosing.
They’ll be sewn together, but,
I find it’s so darn confusing
That some shapes face left or right,
Like a mirror image shown
And my brain puts up a fight,
Causing me to sweat and moan.
Still, I’ll keep up and attempt
To complete this pattern’s look,
Hoping that I’ll be exempt
From working strictly by the book.
Unfortunately, it is an awkward tradition
That most of us have experienced the passion
Of first love, first wink, first hug and first kiss
Which had disturbed our internal peace.
I still remember the first kiss, the first touch
And the first hug after so many years on the couch
Ouch! It hurts to go back to so many years
Where mistakes had turned into serious errors.
However bad love does not exist on this planet
Experience is about trials and tribulations. I bet
Your bottom dollar that nobody is of course exempt.
These days, I rather think about heading forward
Of loving and living innocently like a brilliant nerd
In lieu of being charged haphazardly in contempt.
Copyright © February 2026 Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several poetry collections.
I was warned of this time
Inevitable, they say
I wasn’t really blind
But shooed those thoughts away
Others loved to poke
And taunt, the end was nearing
I would nod, as they spoke
Knowing, while not hearing
You’re girl’s almost a teen
You’re far from her best pal
Though the fortunes did sting
I just upped my game and style
Perhaps I felt exempt
From the shunning other’s knew
Adolescence may not tempt
Our bond was far too true
But now I sit alone
While she’s locked in her room
Her least favorite person
It happened all too soon
No one should ever be treated by anyone
like I've been treated by you:
you think you're so cool
you're exempt from the rule
that you pay for whatever you do;
but the earth will turn
and the sun will burn
till the day you finally see
that no one should ever treat anyone else
the way that you've treated me!
After Raymond Carver’s “Bankruptcy”
Thirty-seven, trick shoulder &
a sultry appetite still (exempt)
I wait for you
impatiently (exempt still)
listening to the towels tumble
as my hairy belly moans:
we are rebounds
to true pleasure.
Forgive us, (I pray in enormity)
our reckless improvidence.
Today, my heart, like the front door,
awaits unlocked
for the first time in years.
I No longer look for any contact
Your memory is fading like the past
Dreams we shared once alive
Dreams now give possibilities
Values shape our soul endlessly
Honor yourself and your family and open totally
Dancing with myself is like singing in the rain
Future I welcome with excitement
Fear is exempt
Letting go has saved me
Dreams are my right you see
MOON ON A SPOON
I know that my words may sometimes seem trite
The way I feel for you deserves better than that
Like some of the oblique references to the moon
And if I could, to just offer it to you on a spoon
But that would be closer to where my love is at
And even to receive a nod from the sky at night
My language of love can sometimes be empirical
Perhaps a poet might consider it a good attempt
Or in the lines of a song that are known so well
They can resonate with the heart, as all may tell
Yet foolish or silly phrases should not be exempt
As there is some allowance given in being lyrical
My emotional situation is both desire and intent
I may fumble the words but my message is true
You can see how I seem to lose all my sensibility
As for saying sweet nothings, I’ve lost the ability
Perhaps an understanding and forgiveness is due
As I am close to all of my creativity being spent
Mere words are placed upon the page
Where ink conjoins with pulp.
And higher themes than tongues can wage
Are sought in parsing prose.
Language is the mind’s attempt
To cobble thoughts from words,
Yet seeks discourse on things exempt
From rationale’s employ.
‘Tis not a boast upon the breast,
That burden to un-bear,
But hope that scripting at its best
Does speak without a breath.
Even --a reverse acrostic
No one is
Exempt from
Violence while trying to get
Even
if mankind ever comprehends everything ~ there will be nothing left
sighs god to satan i’ll be outed ~ and you can wave goodbye to theft
well i’m a psychopath smirked satan ~ so exempt from feeling bereft
yeah your greatest weakness said god ~ unable to bear genuine heft
and so creation burst forth ~ perfectly poised from that opening cleft
it simply had to turn out this way ~ no matter how f#cked up or deft
By
David Kavanagh
You and I are so much more, created in Yah's likeness
Perfect, rare, priceless and special
Unique, extraordinary, gifted and talented
Called to complete a mission, an assignment filled
With adversaries, temptation, adventure and victory
You and I were given the freedom of choice to be a part of history
To be written into the next generation's story whereby we gave the Creator glory
What an extraordinary story for the next generation
To hand down praises, worship and thanksgiving
To the Divine Omnipresent, Omnipotent One who created all living things
You and I are forever striving to be our best
Always willing to complete and partake in every earthly test
Trusting others to instruct and guide us through every trial
Emotions, feelings, anxiety and fear
I agree sometimes this calling doesn't seem fair
But isn't it right to say, "I would rather be called and chosen
Than be exempt and exiled from the Creator's Heavenly Kingdom"?
You walk in hoping for solace or a smile,
instead you’re ostracized by iconoclasts.
Oh what irony!
Becoming what you profess to be against,
don’t you see what a joke that is?
Now we’re overrun with hypocrites.
Safe spaces aren’t so free,
they’re not open to all who enter;
Copying a cadence shouting their beliefs,
rhetoric gets you in the ‘In’ crowd.
Somewhere art’s been left to flounder,
shy behind all their shallow noise.
No desire to speak,
that’s been tried before.
Can’t open up when the response
is so utterly phony.
Safe spaces aren’t so free,
they’re not open to all who enter;
You’re not backed up when you’re gone.
Don’t think you’re exempt from their rules.
Only truly welcome with a cave-ate,
be a catalyst for their agenda.
God forbid you hold your own opinion
perhaps it’s better to remain exposed.
Safe spaces aren’t so free,
they’re not open to all who enter.
We move accordingly using
less air to breathe wandering
about the crued oils of dirt
grime corruption coated
with uncommon valor seen
by millions witnessed by
none we move in separate
lives coasting throughout
mental health relief desperate
an yet clothed with the
blood of everyone totally
exempt from taxation
missing broken overlooking
the rise of Jerusalem
Thank you God
That I’m always a student
I abhor
The slaughters of the babies
Toddlers were killed dead
Young boys and girls were shot dead
Pregnant women were stabbed dead
That’s terror
Young men were executed
Young women were raped and killed
That’s horror
Women weren’t spared
Sick women were beat
Old men and women
Weren’t exempt
No error
Fuhrer is alive
Terrorism
Is not dead
Students have conscience
Leaders lie
The buildings are pulverized
Treaties ain’t for all
Blame a few
Murder is no joke
That’s death
True free speech
Is dead too
Students have conscience
They are always right
They make sense
They protest
No justice
Here on earth
No freedom
We wonder
We ponder
We differ
They conquer
Like wild beasts
There’s no peace
Terror, horror and revenge
I remain an alumnus.
Copyright © April 2024, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.
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