revenge is served cold
with malice in cold steel knife
beside three-pronged fork
hate needs patience to mature
like a ripe blue-vein Stilton
anger sets the feast
memory seasons each course
with bitter chilli
sprinkled to sharpen revenge
as hunger outwaits its prize
when the dish arrives
rust has reached the waiting knife
mould adorns the fork
the taste of blood turns bitter
in the gnash of grinding teeth
Red, a garnet vein
Drips into the pool
A shade away from you.
You, with your quiet fangs.
Palm, turned over
My cadaver wrist spasms
Carnation sinew spilling.
My eyes of soot,
My eyes of amber,
My eyes spitting ash.
Turned over, over.
Over.
Drip.
A wet burn emerges,
And it submerges me
Right into the lake.
Tears an empty bath
Black heart staked
Tears a jaguar trap.
Gnaw, gnash, bite
Rip, claw, tear-
My eyes, my eyes.
Drip.
Drip.
Red, a garnet vanity
Bleeds into the soil
Smudged, the mirror
My face, your jaguar snare.
Come on! Is that the best blast you've got?
Your thunder tantrums don't scare me - Your flash and flare they're half hot!
I love this dunder, blunder, thunder, and underhand rumble-in-the-jungle!
Touché! Olé! We're duellin' again with fork-pronged lightn' sparkling lances.
Clang! Bang! Ker-pow! Ker-plunk! Ker-thump! - Your thunder's late by years!
I flash, bash, smash, crash, gnash — while your Ker-boom goes boom blah, blah, Ahah!
Your quick flashback, claptrap wisecracks come back five seconds late.
Bolt after bolt, your jolts, revolts, cheap-shots and pot-shots hit my ear flaps.
All roar, no score, no gore, no nosebleeds — just air stabs in ionized air.
By then your temper, torage, outrage, out in the garage is binned — You lost!
You ain't learned nothin' from last night's plate-a-smashin' dry run.
Oh No! Don't let the rain come down!
We're both having far far too much fun!
You can't resist, can you — spoiling the perfect row —
By making up, way, way, way ..... too soon!
It’s there
Y’know
Like the aftermath of pop corn
Stuck
Irretrievably
Ensconced
Imbedded
In the grinding mechanism
Dodging the gnash
Of frustration need
Y’know
That pesky poetic seed
Tormenting synaptic calm
Buzzing like a 2AM mosquito
Humming an unheard song
Dancing on the edge of a thought
Whispering in the silence
Of poetic lethargy
Arise, oh muted muse,
Grasp the trembling gauntlet
Lend it purpose
Suit it in poetic armor
Mount your steed
LET THE JOUSTING BEGIN
Too much to do looms
like storm clouds above my desk,
heavy with despair
I stare into candle flames
hearing deadlines gnash their teeth.
Within a bubble,
I call avoidance self-care,
hide beneath soft screams;
but my body knows the truth—
comfort loves hiding away.
Encased I feel safe
until the walls grow too close,
air thins, stinks with fear
each new unopened letter
becomes another locked jaw.
Outside, people march
with tired hope in hands and heart,
though bruised, still awake
finding cure for helplessness
inside the struggle itself
I start one small task,
cross one inhibition off;
suddenly my lungs
remember how breathing works
when action enters the room.
Perhaps I’ll own less,
perhaps the world stays unfair,
perhaps love still fails;
yet facing fire head-on
makes the spirit stand up tall.
There’s a despair tax
for caring deeply enough
to keep fighting back;
but the truest form of relief
is to turn around, face it.
I know
Who I am
And I follow
Absolutely no one
Leave me alone
Listen to the bells ringing
Announcing a new season
It is the hour of orison
The hour to meditate and to think
The hour to act and to examine
Truth is everywhere
And love, surrounded by fools
Makes itself felt
It is not worth the trouble to lie
History has recorded everything
Events, incidents and accidents
One must never ignore time
Which waits patiently
Standing right in line
To drown you in the dark
At the bottom of the funnel.
You ignore my words and my sayings
But when your turn comes to play your part
You will know how to gnash your teeth
You will see that I am not pedantic
But rather truthful and clairvoyant
One does not trifle with time
I am
Who I am
And you are
Obviously who you are
Leave me alone
Live, enjoy, and delight in
Your beautiful life
Amidst good friends
And right companions.
P.S. Translation of “Je Sais, Je Sais’ by Hébert Logerie
Copyright © May 2026 Hébert Logerie. All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several poetry collections.
It was an immemorial hope.
O life, when ye began:
How indeed did people cope?
Catch me if you can.
Hell and Heaven, send a flood!
O'er the shores to drown!
Avenge angry giant's blood!
Water, ship, down! Frown!
O cur, lack thee thy ochre?
Ogre, gnash gnarly teeth!
Sleeping beauty? Who woke her?
Blood ivy, thy wreath!
Will Providence, spare a thought?
Life is but a dot.
Deepest chasm, spend thy plot!
Allies, don't get caught!
Riddle-book or chimney-nook?
Jonquil flower treats!
Oysters cook in drink of brook?
He who died thus eats!
Bring them to the temple!
There put them to the flames!
Either that or the brass bull!
Or just steal their dames!
O filament, thy light a-flash;
End game with one slash!
Vision grant thy gift! Dare? Dash.
Enslaver, thy lash!
Hateful is the world outside?
Is it better here?
Causality, how you hied!
Entropy ground gear?
Alligators with stiff necks and jaws
Boars roaming and munching without trimmed claws
Cats that nap all the time
Dogs that snap overtime
Elephants of trumpet, splash and bow
Foxes gekker, gnash and chow
Goats that rap, blitz and bleat
Hares hop with furs so neat
Iguana with spikes and protective tail
Jaguars of the cat world that rarely wail
Kiang of the wild and meadows
Loris of the night without pillows
Mongoose of bravery and viper's nemesis
Nandu of strong femoris
Olms of the cave and false mimesis
Pikas of the puff world
Quokka of the smiley world
Red fox of historical Ethiopia
Storks that bring luck in utopia
Tapirs of animated and mythical world
Uakari of the New World
Vicuna of long eyelashes
Wallaby, big foot of dashes
Xeme of the gully world
Yarri of the lost world
Zebras that play chess and checkers
Animals of the nutty world
Carnivals of naughtiness
Festivals of display and vivaciousness
Intestinal relief of the blessed world
(Prosebite)
I have walked the hallways
where minutes gnash like teeth,
each second a pebble pressed
into the jaw of memory.
The air tastes of iron--
memory’s rust,
old prayers swallowed
before they ever touched the light
Yet still - I carry my candle
into the jaw’s dark cavern,
its flame a soft rebellion
against the grindstone silence.
Soft laughter rests in the cracks,
like seeds grabbed
into the frozen earth,
waiting for the frost to release them,
for spring to rise
from winter’s quiet.
I move onward,
not a hostage,
but marrow unbroken,
a hymn rising
through bone and enamel,
singing until the jaw
yields to the light.
O audio, antennae.
Activate. Agonize.
O bad seed, thy bad penny.
Aim right between their eyes.
Dark fire, burn hot in my brain.
Through my veins break free.
Driver, time to go insane.
Straight into the sea.
Ring of fairies, thy best song.
Where do we belong?
Where the vibrations are strong!
Wargods, strike thy gong!
Wind atop the drear sheer cliff?
Do not dare to climb.
Charon Boatman, pole thy skiff!
Trifle, all of time...
Falcon, scream as victor!
Thy talons sharpen well!
Physician, thy rictor.
O heaven, send for hell.
Rain down on me, liquid light.
Languid as young love.
Harpy, sacred is thy flight!
Watch o'er from above!
Thought-flame, spark with vigor.
Synapses, goals to meet.
Flicker as you figure.
High holy is thy heat.
Ghast, gnash teeth and mighty fast.
Terrify thy foe.
Contender, to come in last?
Golem, time to go...
Creation…brings aggravation,
what I’m plinking…can’t match what I’m thinking.
It’s this way…since our early days,
sad to say; but I’ll keep going.
What I see…lives only in me,
can’t come out…wants to, but not allowed,
hear it plain…what I make to play,
ain’t the same; but I’ll keep going.
The details…I try to no avail,
share what’s clear…make it all appear,
always fails…what I write down seems pale,
gnash and wail; but I’ll keep going.
His image…our work just a scrimmage,
not the game…that’s well beyond our brains,
has to be…full force we can’t see,
beyond me; but I’ll keep going.
And I bet…most folks will forget,
roll their eyes…he thinks he’s worth our time,
or they blast…it seems a thankless task,
makes you crash; but I’ll keep going.
What is true…we can’t do it for you,
always there…can drive some to despair,
never ends…something now comes again,
cannot mend, if I don’t keep going…
March is Nature’s Halloween
treats us to a winsome Spring day
while she forecasts snowstorms on the way
In between a tornado or two
just to make you gnash your teeth
Winter’s parting trick bequeathed
To draw the string back, with a notched arrow,
To sense the taut twine pull against and test
The strength of stiffed up shoulders and flexed chest—
But not to loose the arrow at the sparrow;
To aim, to wait, to track through the narrow
Cracks between webbed branches, to feel one’s breast
Beating boldly, and breath deep, slowed, suppressed—
But not to shoot the shot at the sparrow;
Oh the bitter pangs of deeds not done, thoughts
Unsaid—how viciously they gnash and gnaw!
And of duration, long and dreadful are
The laments of a pounding heart’s grim knots.
Ah, what work it is such ice then to thaw,
As that of one who’s soul has missed its star.
Just because someone says “their truth”
Is this or that
Doesn’t mean it is The Truth.
Subjective truths come and go
(Like that chocolate ice cream is the best)
But The Truth just is
What it is
And always will be.
No amount of contorted thinking or feeling
Personal preference and “lived experience”
(As if there was somehow some other kind)
Makes something true
That isn’t.
Faced with such truths
We may kick and scream, gnash our teeth and cry
It may even get us a much needed snack
Or bedtime story and nap
But it won’t change the truth
Of what and who and where we are:
Just another walking, talking blob of Earth
Rising and falling, coming and going
As so much dust
Around so much spirit.
(2/26/25)
Crack! I lay, beneath me creaking
Hath it taken from me? What to give?
Mayhaps yesternight another seeking
For not many there is to live
It approaches, shaking, floors creaking
To thee I will never forgive
The black, slender arms reach
It thrashes! THRASHES, thrash–
Follicles, it pulls, off me, I screech
With many a fang, I faintly see a gnash
Holding me, gripping such as a leech
Of my being, will you bash?
Desires faintly protruded, of a glare
I wanted to feel an embrace so warm
Instead, I long, gasping for air
Of my strangled state, you aware of enorm
Thirsted for love, endearment not there
Just us, our state one described deform
Despite conditions, not a sound shall hang
As I know we are bound to meet again
Bound, bound beneath thee embrace and fang
Thy body, slim and slime, gets off now then
You’ll return, but you go with a bang
As I am left to wonder when
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