Of Unjust Harvesting
Will the grim reaper
ever tire of being
life’s chief killer;
and how long
will stopped,
stalled-beings,
be blown away
like crows
in forbidden fields?
Does not war yield
enough lives
to be reaped;
or will strange fruits
also forever be
joyously plucked,
by the satanic
harvester of hate?
dust left behind
as combine churns the earth
leaves curl like paper
These Masters at deception and false claims,
where veracity is not seen as virtue,
will lose their cool when challenged and shamed.
They can’t be accused of being true blue.
In the Pink Room – for good luck – on the Throne
where the gilded lily flakes, he resides
to read the daily headline news alone –
now redacted to mere gibberish guides.
The farmer jumped off the tractor and ran toward the house
He left it on, which gave a chance to his bull named Mouse
Mouse jumped on that John Deere and began harvesting corn.
He did it all day, ignoring all kinds of ridicule and scorn.
Farmer Jones watched out the window saying things like “I’ll be”.
His wife was as astonished, and genuinely amazed as he.
They decided to let Mouse do all the tractoring from here on out.
From time to time giving him direction with a gentle shout.
If you plant the seeds of love
You'll reap gorgeous flowers of love
If you spray the seeds of hate
Many plants and trees
Will blossom flowers of hate
And you won't like the fate
Nobody enjoys death and miseries
Ugly, dirty and evil flowers
And people with ill manners
Love is the answer
Hate is a toxic cancer
Be positive and make sense
All the time
Is obviously not a crime
Violence is unacceptable
Peace is divine and preferable
Please use good common sense.
Copyright © May 2017, Hebert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.
Planting And Harvesting
Miracle Man
November 15, 2023
Each seed that I’ve planted,
came by word or my deeds.
But God brought His harvest,
from those planted seeds.
He gave me a testimony,
to witness to the new.
To help lead them to Jesus,
and begin life anew.
Sometimes my not knowing,
just what I should say.
Without waiting upon the Lord,
Tom got in the way.
Put Youself In Their Shoes Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Eve Roper
Placed 1st
______________________________________________________
It was late August, during summer break,
We went to our grandma’s village called Snake.
She had a small house beside a big lake;
She was known to people as Mrs. Blake.
She liked to live in the village alone;
There she loved to live a life of her own.
In her little field, corn seeds, she had sown;
That time to its full size the crop had grown.
Around the field, there was a mountain range…
There we went for harvesting for a change,
Not expecting anything in exchange.
As we were novices the work looked strange!
We worked since morning till evening untired;
The art of harvesting we had acquired.
Our work in the fields everyone admired;
The children of the village got inspired.
After the work, we returned from the field;
People welcomed us with smiles unconcealed.
And honored us by giving us a shield;
To them our whereabouts grandma revealed.
Picture: 3
Date of posting the poem: 8/16/2023
If you plant the seeds of love
You'll reap gorgeous flowers of love
If you spray the seeds of hate
Many plants and trees
Will blossom flowers of hate
And you won't like the fate
Nobody enjoys death and miseries
Ugly and dirty flowers
And people with ill manners
Love is the answer
Hate is a toxic cancer
Violence is unacceptable
Peace is divine and preferable.
Copyright © May 2017, Hebert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.
Harvesting in Summer
Summer is in dazzling show
Hot hammer hits and sweat is brought.
Sizzling scorching tremor of draught.
Season in tough grammar to for harvest.
In field hard working farmers hardly take rest.
06/11/21k
Third place
'Something Beautiful 5 line Rhyme
Contest by charles messina
heavily vetted
only the gemstones get in
borders of heaven
There is a tree I planted
Not Long ago
From a seed it started
Then in a tree it grew.
Yearly it would bloom and blossom
Dropping its fruits for those to know
There is abundance
When we start to sow
Success does not come by virtues
Nor is it etched by desires
But it is to ignite ones passions
And let it be realised
There is steadfastness and surety
In the things we do
But we must carry them out diligently.
Lets get the clue.
where do ants go in
winter time when grounds frozen
beneath grounds eating
all the stored up foods
gather during autumn rule
this is where ants go
2/11/21
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr 2021
Deep within your eyes my soul has been planted
each moment in time it grows with enchantment,
As I plow deeper into your heart wanting to harvest,
Reaping your flowering red rose of our loves garnish
Pruning dead leaves away bringing you a new day,
watering your roots with cheer casting your fears away
Placing you in a vase so all may see your beautiful array,
sparkling sun drops upon your smiling face everyday.
Bringing forth this harvest moon with shooting stars,
tracing each footstep into the sand back to our hearts
With a blazing fire reaching deep into our souls
burning desires of love and romance as we grow old.
Together this story will be told
Harvesting Youth
Harvesting youthful energy
Takes time and vitality
Diamond and ruby
Hand and machinery
Poof goes the jazz hands
A trimmer in the extremities
And tapping shoes
A person off beat and balance
Heavy feet drag
Brittle bones crack
Speech is paused and delayed
Breathing comes heavily
Blind is the eye
Wrinkled are the hands that
Held youngins
And tended to their cry
Made tomato paste
And sweet potato pie
Now in a broken place
Climbing out of windows
And wandering streets
Become commonplace
Laughter bring eyes to tears
In the heart a song plays
In a dream one is doing the mashed potatoes and the twist
Where must I go?
To a zoo?
Talent show?
Playground?
Museum of art?
An amusement park?
Sitting in the breeze
Underneath a maple tree
Birds chirp
Bugs bite and hide
Must I ponder upon the morrow?
Marckincia Jean
Free verse
06/27/19
How do we harvest light?
We dig through the darkness.
When light is a turnip
Growing in the rocky Newfoundland soil
Digging through the darkness
Hands bloody and torn
Digging into my past
Through trauma
Stories and roots
Block the path
Rocks and fears
Make the work
Challenging, draining
Often I need to rest
Light is the quest
The digging worthwhile
Golden ears listen
A great gift given
Lessons come
Light lessons
Unlike dirt
Undone by
A good scrub
Light permeates
Till you and it are the same
No washing required
Wishing you love and light
Gordon Martin
February 1, 2019
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