I can’t imagine a life where you do not exist. I do remember the time before you arrived, and back then my eyes were not trained to see light. You must have been somewhere then, just waiting. Floating in a ripple-less sea among the stars shining as bright as they do. With metallic scales and half formed flesh, eyes shut and a mind frozen in time. Before your mother plucked your star from the sky and held it against her belly, and so you fused harmoniously. Spending seasons knitted into one another. And finally we were so lucky to witness the birth of a star and welcomed you into our home.
my Qasim, the star.
A facsimile of the earth stands proudly
On the savannahs of the ancient and modern.
Edifice of rustic finesse, rugged and pointed
With the glory of a pinnacle of a paradise on earth.
In your crawling presence, Termite, stand I,
Barefoot, on elevated earth for the first time —
A platform erected by the hands of gifted time,
All red-brown and royal, and under the tutelage of
Sun and Rain —two keen-eyed foremen descended from heaven.
You have reached the skies before man.
I hail you!
I have removed my open-toe footwear,
Like Moses did his in the burning bush.
Babel forbids the union of this construction,
Aiming Nimrodly upwards and towards arrowed clouds
Dispersed in blubbering tongue-lashes.
But you do not seek God’s wrath upon these grasslands
With these anthills,
Wild castles —testaments to the will of fecund grounds.
Termite, break the jinx of your muteness.
Testify, crawling soul, testify harmoniously,
Borrowing the singing heritage of the Common Cuckoo.
Testify now.
Attest
To the ruggedness and puissance of this imposing structure,
And blame it on the staccato rhythm of peevish languages.
'Tis melodious music resonant has gone deep,
Tenor cleft trembling audaciously within,
Like sea, audibly searching immensely steep,
Vocalizing many universes therein.
Violin, Xylophone, banjo, bass guitar 'tis befall!
Ambience sensation Ah soothing, pleasing tremor,
Forming audibly, crescendo shift staves squall,
Softens our e'ver stony heart like th' stemmer.
Euphony that's nostalgia intense emotion,
Sounding harmoniously wanting, an' wondering,
Instrumental fortissimo that brings notion,
Stillness, sounding turns resoundingly thundering.
Enthralls our unfathomable emotion, ring,
Induces enraptured soul never before,
Our determination echoes so despairing,
Audacious Phoenix ablaze into bright galore!
489.
Prayer For Relatives
Oh Father God, we pray for all relatives
That they grow & multiply like leaves
Oh Lord Jesus, we pray for every relative
That with us they harmoniously live
Oh Holy Spirit, we pray for our kin
That they may be away from harm & sin
This we pray to our One True God. Amen.
-12/25/2015
(Dumarao)
*Prayer Poems for Christmas
Let's watch the snow melting
It's wonderful and very nice
The nightingales are back
The sun warms the day
The weather is great. It is mild
In the streets where kids are playing
Football and girls are jumping ropes
It's nice out. It's a glorious spring
Let's hum the songs of yesteryear
Together harmoniously.
The air is good and fresh this morning
After the breakfast of hot buttered
Petits pains and latte
We go to the platform on the quay
To skate, to see and witness
The comings and goings of the small sailboats. It's dark
At the bottom of the ocean where the fish intertwine
The weather is nice. It is springtime
Let's sing the chorus of the old days
Together melodiously.
Copyright © March 2021, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.
A POETIC FUSION -:-
personal
timeless
pictures
mindless
limitations
of FLOURISHING PLURIALITY
considered
reasoned
prerequisite
executed
ideas
in IDEAS EXPRESSED
harmoniously
linked
efflorescently
still
extant
STUDY OF COLOUR -:-
notice
simultaneous
contrasts
interacting
harmoniously
together DRAWN
spontaneous
living
textured
evening
moods
of MOTIONLESS AWE
transparent
opaque
traces
dying
.6dead
MONOCHROME © Sara Etgen-Baker 2025
Sun slowly descends, and the world turns monochrome, like a black and white drawing on the Creator’s easel. I patiently wait for night with its renewing spirit. Nightfall serves as a metaphorical curtain closure, while dawn symbolizes a daily reopening, with the birds serenading harmoniously on cue.
dusk whispers, night falls,
shadows stretch across the sky—
day’s breath vanishes
dawn’s silent embrace
cradles the fragile and bold
a promise of hope
Never had I heard
a flutter so clear!
Nor more distinct settle
of midnight wings; soft
gray fans, coming to gentle
fold --
soon to follow his song
-- the nightingale,
lilting the air!
Such a blessed
union, rare!~ Light and
dark shadows tranquilly sharing
often fought over space – for
a perfect moment, seeming to
forgive and harmoniously embrace --
We will learn how to harmoniously dance this new dance.
May misstep each other's feet but we can break the tense trance.
Eventually we will learn our reasons to happily prance.
Postcard perfect- a picturesque town
Where the locals come to wind down
A hidden gem, a park of simplesse
An oasis, heavenly, it's beauty bequests
An art form to behold, a sculpture; nature's showpiece
Serene and tranquil in the heart of the city
A stream lined with a plethora of trees
Every color showcased upon their leaves
A vast variety, Each the opposite from the last
No comparison, within it's contrast
Harmoniously standing together
A strength against stormy weather
Surrounded by majestic abodes
So grand, each and all, becoming stories told
A backdrop- regal mountains- not seen before
Only Nature could compose such a musical score
Vince says I'm intelligent, creative, and quirky.
I am all those things,
as these are features of all people,
as well as all animals,
and plants.
Look!
I belong
and am a special part of
this beautiful tapestry,
and have the opportunity
to live harmoniously within it,
and shine!
Like all life, I have, not imperfections, but quirks,
and like Vince, on most days, I am kind.
He caresses the pen with the grace of the ocean kissing the shore,
Velvety words wait to pour into the black ink,
When he gives them life, thoughts become forms of overwhelming beauty,
Tears are born from the eyes of those who watch them silently and in wonder.
A multitude of hearts follows the path of his golden metaphors,
Astonished by the grace with which he unveils his secret worlds,
They do not know the truth of his craft, a hidden art,
It is all an experiment—how far from the truth can it stand?
In a dance of the mind, he wonders how much of himself is captured in words,
Each metaphor a mask, each verse a foreign dream,
When the ink flows, it carries with it hidden pieces of soul,
Truths and lies woven harmoniously, a play of shadows.
The ocean of thoughts overflows, waves of emotions that are not his own,
In every shining reflection, the shadow of a truth is glimpsed,
How much of him is real and how much is just an illusion born of desire,
His art, a paradox, a deceptive mirror, a hidden face.
Harmoniously welcoming spring,
bunnies hop and jump over meadows
birds tweet on treetops singing carols of love
leaves unfurl in wonderment
flowers blossom with delight,
bathed in sun's cascading rays of light.
Harry and Hilda Herald in Halloween
haphazard handsome Halloween Harry
has hurried helpless hapless Hilda of Herrington.
ghosts, ghouls and gruesome ghoulish ghouls gather,
greasing Hilda’s handy hardy robust ready rolling pin.
wizards, witches, werewolves and wild wooly wolverines
want wacky wonders warmed and wise.
sassy suave scintillating superheroes hire Harry and Hilda
to harmoniously Halloween harmonize.
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