A gang of three guys displaying their flairs
Nonplus by the grin boy with curly hairs
Horror by the toothless teen
perfectly suits Halloween
As if he is Holmes, the third puts on airs.
Somewhere on earth, there is a new day
Somewhere on earth, people get paid
A new day has less than twenty four hours
Earth orbits around the sun 366.2499 days a year
Which brings hope, joy, love, and despair
The future encompasses several flairs
Of new days. As long as there is life
There is a new day for the wife
To talk about. Tomorrow is of course a new day
However, people rarely talk about a new night
Because people fear darkness and dark sights
There is a new day somewhere in the universe
Only on earth, there is a new day
Only on earth, time walks, runs, and matters
Only on earth, there is a payday
Which means nothing in the stratosphere
There is no day. There is no fear
Everything is constant and linear
And everything is dead and near.
Copyright © May 2018, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.
It’s called, ’excessive fork to mouth disease’.
Overeating too much of what we please.
Sitting excessively on our derrière?
Watching TV, or writing poetry with magical flairs?
Lockdowns were absolutely no excuse.
Blaming it on “Climate Change…”a bad joke and so incredibly obtuse.
Get off our buttoxes and exercise at home.
It’s OK, to leave your great, altar of the internet, alone!
We lovely women, lose weight slower than charming men.
But there’s no magic pill on which neither can depend!
If I made it from a size sixteen to a size seven,
You can do it, too, it’s simply like being in heaven.
Beers, breads and booze are out of the question.
Wines, pizza, chips just few more to mention!
The key is to not listen, to those who failed.
Else, you be imprisoned in an adipose jail!
Live very long and prosper!
Panagiota
8/20/2022
~3 ~
Tender is your age,
I must be gentle
and honor your gender
and the exquisiteness
it can show and offer;
a female is feminine,
not as rough as a male,
I compare you to a lily
that has purity
depicting its whiteness
and it renders
an unmatchable
example of ingenuity!
Beautiful are your traits,
refined, noble, and gracious,
but silence makes you restless;
and I must confess
how my awareness
delights in your flairs,
never expecting perfection
even from a spontaneous phrase
who is spoken eloquently...
wouldn't I praise it,
not considering it
an intangible malaise?
It's my moral obligation
to be attentive and protect always
your precious innocence
not tolerated by insolence
and from the constant harm
of heartless monsters
who easily bend a fragile will,
who defile a defenseless body
and also an unyielding soul:
a single bruise immediately
will sound the alarm...
and fling away my fury
with a glance of repudiation!
Tender is your age,
and innocent are your ways;
much you will learn from life
imitating who has lived enough to guide
your steps and make you victorious...
laugh hysterically amid the battles of rage!
In the world of dark nights
I'm in the urge of searching some light,
Waiting for nights giving tender embrace of bright
With a nyctophilic soul and selenophilic heart;
May be I'm addicted, But this is my life.
In the wanderlust of nature
I'm just searching for some fireflies,
Waiting for my throbbing heartbeats
Which can never get back from this fantasy life;
May be I'm addicted, But this is what I love.
In the alluring solace of this world
I'm craving for blazes of soothing soul,
Wanting to be ubiquitous
With kinks of fantasies and lively flows;
May be I'm addicted but this is my life.
In the vital pampering of world
I'm crushing out with flairs of craze,
Wanting to get reached into a parallel world which thaws
With this fantasy world of mine, I just live in every flow;
May be I'm addicted, But this is what I love.
In this lifetime full of yearning;
through which came wishing and dreaming;
within many splendid, unquiet flairs;
a voice murmured the word, ‘prayer!’
I was needy and you were solicitous,
my mind strayed to the felonious.
Instead I uncovered brazen devotion,
a perkiness brought such an inner commotion.
I screamed out in misery, 'Is that a blessing?'
Mattering, assaultive and mindful distressing;
Urging and purging within my slyness,
my shyness, my outright otherness.
My mind could not or would not awaken.
Tossing the ghost into all forsaken,
'It's that barrenness,' I muttered.
Queryingly back into memories, now cluttered
I craved an eclectic, or electric luminescence
the yearning, was an essential evanescence
the evolutionists laughed at us in retort.
'It's that piety,' I whispered before the court.
The Judge looked on, a bit beguiled,
as the Saintliness beamed and simply smiled.
Charlie is a foreign horse
Floated teeth and dentures fair
Such disarming southern charm
Tall and broad with silver hair
Troubling old Charlie flairs
Empty office empty chairs
Tramples over everyone
Best of all he never cares
Watch for Charlie stomping by
Sure a Bender follows soon
Chance of some deceit affair
Trot you out before its Noon
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bender_(Futurama)
Air is altering its pattern
Dusks are getting crispier
Nights are falling earlier
Sun is taking time to rise up
Leaves are changing their colors
Trees are showing off their fiery flairs
Pine needles and acorns have scattered all over
Halloween is around the corner
Ghosts and goblins are appearing at the doors with vampires
Skeletons and ghouls are hanging out near front arrivals
Entries are surrounded in the webs of humongous spiders
Witches and Jack-o’-lanterns are getting ready to welcome visitors
Black cats are showing up
Owls and spooky bats are flapping their flutters
Crescent moon is decorating the night skies with its shiny silver
Town is preparing itself to entertain little monsters
Plump round pumpkins are showing shades of orange, auburn and ginger
Costumes are being bought in stores
Candy containers can be seen in shops’ every corner
Eager children are getting ready for Halloween pleasure
Houses are smelling with sweet scents of candles
Kitchens are spreading aromas of pies cooked with cinnamon
Taste buds are savoring spicy warm apple ciders
Families are ready to greet and treat trick-or-treaters
Altering air patterns
Crispier dusk tones
Nights’ earlier onsets
Sun’s late rises
Changing leaf colors
Trees’ fiery flairs
Scattered acorns and pine needles
Halloween is around the corner
Ghosts and vampires
Goblins, ghouls and skeletons
Webs of humongous spiders
Witches and Jack-o’-lanterns
Black cats lurk
Spooky bats and owls flutter
Crescent moon’s shiny silver
Halloween is around the corner
Pumpkin shades of orange, auburn and ginger
costume displays in stores
Candy containers in shops’ every corner
Eager children gearing up
Sweet scents from burning candles
Aromas of pies cooked with cinnamon
Spicy warm apple cider
Halloween is around the corner
Sensuous sweet sounds
Pretty poke pounds
Reap ripe ripples
Drench deep dimples
Sexy sure say
Private pure play
Laughter leaps loud
Plunder plots proud
Sure sizzle spreads
Doom drizzles dread
Apt ample airs
Frame freezing flairs
Seek success sound
Grip gathers ground
Prize precious plot
Touch telling thought
Said solid state
Dare dizzy date
Leon Enriquez
10 September 2018
Singapore
I love to season sense engage.
It clears parts mortality dazed.
When young, summer’s tune range
is firmly, soul-deep engraved.
When grown, human ways hush
man's faith with factual mush.
Summer composed odes grant
faith prose that hopes maintain.
The soft song of a summer breeze
lifts aloft a wonderous spree
of smoothed, spliced rapture
too song silky for feel capture.
Summer’s charming, velvet songs
hold notes of mystical essence
assuring we’re a spiritual presence.
Seasonal airs of sensual flairs
are fluid trilled, space tilled, and
sound honed by summer’s hymn.
Feeling air's first tune blend,
early man named it wind.
Some days you're thrown an I just don't know
Other days it's all right there
A glimmer of hope in which to cope
A fresh breath of poetic air
A constant loop as the dial slowly moves
In its never ending search for the truth
Some days you write the poem
Some days the poem writes you
From the ups and downs to the toss arounds
All grate on a soul in time
But what's growing there inside your despair
Can pour forth in the perfect rhyme
Some days you find the inner light
Others you have no clue
Some days you write the poem
Some days the poem writes you
You can be more or less inspirationaless
Then your pen flairs with the finest finesse
The point that you make either blows them away
Or what you have to say is anyone's guess
Holding onto the theme of your color scheme
Being the brightest of hues
Some days you write the poem
Some days the poem writes you
Do not gift me with paints of pastel blue
Or beads of gentle, sparkling amethyst.
Give me not flowers of soft yellow hue
Or silk cloths the clouds seem to have kissed.
For in the chaos of my broken mind,
The jagged edges of piercing nightmares;
In a home for neither the bright nor kind
Where is the place of such beautiful flairs?
No, the castle of the twilight's princess
Shall scream danger from many miles away
To proclaim the one queen of the distressed
Lives to rule and sing for another day.
But if in my reign you wish to take part
Know, my realm is not for the faint of heart.
Peeked through clouds,
Sun made them, feel warmth.
Aroused, same sober mirth in both.....
Flashed flairs of love in probing blue eyes,
Smiled at him, she
Straight to heart,
Passed...... Prolonged hug,
Lost them in oneness,
Closed probingly, love filled eyes.
Shreded,remains secret,
First love bloomed with in,
Still resides in heart,
As black spot never revealed.
Melted never down,
Frozen white pellets.
Pampered never enough,
Baby lied in cradle.
Stabbed lines darkness,
Rested back in source.
Elation crept,frosted
Scampered away to holes.
Sipped flies,nectar,
Moments blured,mind,
Floated flairs,obscure
Like to shed it away...
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