The stored sunshine in the firewood,
is warming my back now.
The sun that grew that tree shone,
how many years ago?
Plus the time it took to travel here.
A bit over eight minutes.
Normal things are fantastic.
FREEDOM’S FLIGHT
Fighting for freedom,
Fulfills faithful fortitude:
Flawlessly fantastic:-
It's a lovely sun-drenched day of clouds and blue sky,
Giving such a beautiful vista on which I gaze.
Two sparrows dancing at opposite roosts catch my eye,
On a large branch in the huge maple at center stage
Distant bells ring out in the distance a melodic peal,
Accompanying the movement of leaves in the breeze.
I see a twin-tower temple with sweet images to reveal,
With such quiet grace it sets troubled minds at ease.
I muse of a sanctuary of inner warmth and grace,
With a scent of roses urging me to follow my nose.
Drawn as by the sensuous smile on a woman’s face,
I begin to presume how the rest of the story goes.
Woman indeed is so wisely and nobly endowed,
Between the pillars of her calling in awesomeness.
She remains her openly receptive self and still proud,
Showing me haven where my weary soul finds rest.
Together we dream of a garden of hope and love,
Living within the comforts of shared pleasure.
As I drink the nectar that showers from above,
I conceived of a supreme realm for all to treasure.
We secure trust where guiless love does laugh,
That seems so caring on others bahalf...
Yet life wants us to concur
With deceit glaringly blur-
Far away programmed heuristics on graph.
watching a fantastic air show today
put on by black raptors not so far away
they glide with enormous beauty and grace
seem in no special order, no kind of race
it is as if they are floating above the trees
I marvel at them, as I sit in a breeze
one breaks rank and speeds directly toward me
my dog flinches a bit, I guess it scared little old he
If I left to get my phone, the fowl would probably disappear
so I enjoy the air show as other large birds appear
hawks or ravens? I am truly unsure
but their lovely air show is graceful and pure
I feel so vitalized, stylized, unanalyzed.
Eclectic, electric, not hectic!
My cells are atomized, crystalized, uncompromised.
Eccentric, ecstatic, not skeptic!
My mind's been mesmerized, civilized, unprivatized.
Fantastic, elastic, not plastic!
Cuz I have level eyes, country sized, unrealized.
Authentic, romantic, not manic!
...Or, maybe I'm just a little bit bombastic?
The swoosh-swoosh dress, hips dalliance, smooth hardwood.
He’d like to take her out for a spin, but she’s not letting anyone in.
She can nearly feel the polish under cosseted soles; an angel.
His eyes don’t leave her side; he can dream of milky wings.
The tempo picks her up, lets her go, never drops her; he might.
His intent, palms around her waist, a pick-me-up, a whirlwind.
Without a care, even he won’t dare slide his shoes nextdoor.
She’s breathless, hair like a waterfall, graceful, frenetic.
He wants to put her in a pumpkin shell, make her his wife.
She goes it alone, on tiptoe, hands become rain clouds.
The tempest tightens his heart and abdomen; she’s his.
The knot he feels is quickly untied by her “bye, bye.”
He looks for her in the lot, in the moonlight-fantastic; glass.
Her reflection is best on the ballroom floor; he’s floored.
He can’t touch her fragility, not allowed a whiff of her perfume.
She flies high and higher; he shields his eyes; clouds brighten.
He hears her swoosh-swoosh; at long last, rose-scented petrichor.
He can’t accept her departure; she is the warmth of Summer.
He feels a tap on his shoulder; hopeful; alas, lights turned off.
In those streets of buildings
by Frank Lloyd and Corbusier
I dreamed of my dry landscape...
In those temples of sumptuous
mystery, I dreamed of the little chapel
of São João...
On the fast High Ways, I dreamed
the trails of xique xique...
In the monumental parks,
of those megalopolises, I dreamed
of the backyard of the caatingas...
In those exploded Meccas,
I dreamed of my shotgun
of soca-soca...
In the nightclubs of
high society, I dreamed
of Zé Lagoa's relaxation bal masquê...
I confess that I lived in those worlds,
but I never left home...!
Today is a fantastically super day
Every day is a beautiful birthday
If you have a good health
You have a great wealth
Because illness is expensive
Diseases are very destructive
They make you look and feel old
They make you feel frail and cold.
I am happy to be alive
I can walk, swim and dive
In the very deep blue sea
Life is good and pleasant
I can smile, laugh and see
And enjoy the fresh scent
Of the ladies and the flowers
At the corner of the garden
Life is made of joy and errors
So far, I am still a good man.
Every day is a wonderful birthday
Today is another very exquisite day
The sun has nothing to do with nothing
The moon is present. Let me sing
And praise the Lord for His Kindness
My life is full of wit, glee and happiness
Forget about the money, honey
In our hearts, it is always warm and sunny.
Copyright © October 2nd.2018, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.
Gray rippled clouds create a tenebrous day
A gentle easterly breeze cools it down
But that sun, glorious sun
Creates a red rose crown
There is a chill upon the air
A dampness makes it cling
As a water sprinkler's sound
Upon my heart and soul rings
Changes in the sky happen
Seems time speeds by
The horizon now full of color
No traffic, but sprinkle noise~sight
The color from the crepe myrtle
Comes alive, brought back by the light
Delight they offer to passersby
Against the fantastic sky of such height
she showed off her well-toned lovely derriere
the gorgeous artwork was amazing to see
fantastic and realistic; brilliantly created
a skull that looked ready to walk out of her hip
not something I could do, but on her it looked marvelous
He began a voyage to a land afar,
But on every step in his journey, he shrunk.
He wanted to go to a far distant star,
But soon diminished to the size of a skunk.
He climbed up on a slippery curtain rod,
Now just the width and breadth of a dappled mouse.
He slid off the rod into the hair of a dog
Who skipped and danced all the way out of the house.
He got smaller yet and befriended a flea
Who said, “sail the green sea to a secret land
Where creatures are much smaller than you can see,
And a million can live on a grain of sand.”
So, he then disappeared, getting smaller still,
And trekked through a forest of golden and brown,
And followed a twisty, turny trail until
He came to a window on the gate to a town.
The hinged portal opened, and a head popped out.
‘Twas an atom sized, gay and puppetty dog
Who hailed him, as a fish on a water spout
Said, “please sit down by this cranberry bog.”
A boy, from his sack, gave him a magic bean,
Which he put inside a stained-glass rainbow jar,
And got so small he was only again seen
As a gold ray of light from a distant star.
alliterate
emagi
clerihew
broken -monoku
As dusk bleeds
dimmed threads,
that veil the sun
within my mind,
I listen to the whispers
of the midnight wind,
slowly carrying the chaos
of city life,
reminding me that
in togetherness,
I can rise and fight
the darkness,
like the Fantastic Four in
the celestial chronicles of
magnificent Marvel.
For their strength in unity
did cast away every obstacle
wrapped in fictional lies.
I wish I could
be Susan Storm,
in times of strife,
to mesmerise
and manipulate
the rosiest of flames,
where Johnny Storm shines
and cosmically conquers
adversaries with eloquence.
Sometimes I long
to be flexible
like Reed Richards,
stretching beyond
oblivion and reaching
spheres untouchable.
Tonight, I wish I were
Ben Grimm, facing
every storm, being
virtually indestructible
and heroical.
Yet, to be a family of four,
so fearless and strong,
is but an eternal dream
within my glass heart.
So tomorrow,
I shall rise
and flip pages,
where all worries of
this world will
be forgotten.
My soul and spirit
connected poetically
to the fantastic four.
FANTASTIC FOUR
Fantastic Four - well, just who are they?
More comic heroes thrust onto the scene
I assume some may know of this new stuff
But for many millions, they’ve had enough
Formulaic as such movies have ever been
From puerile trash, can we just step away
Until recently, real actors have cost more
But animation is now dominating the show
The Hollywood contracts are allowing A.I
A few images taken and real acting will die
So, let’s get back to the reality we know
A revival of true human stars at the core
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