Disbelief is what hits me first.
The sheer, utter weight of his confession; of his mother’s confession.
The staggering magnitude of being cherished.
It doesn’t seep into your bones like a soft, knowing gradual half-glass-of-water.
It hits you like a bullet train.
Cataclysmic, impertinent, scarring.
Nausea follows.
The drum at the back of my head plays a throbbing beat I can’t outrun.
It’s so catchy.
The holes in my pupils play hide and seek with the burn of my palms.
It’s so dire.
The weight of my body sways in desperation to stay in sync with the glint of my rings.
It’s so familiar.
The words are an attempt to slip into the invisibility of my armour.
It makes me feel;
Denial. Dissent. Dispute.
It makes me crave;
Imitation. Simulation. Replication.
All while I am solely trying to remember,
how it feels to have a heartbeat.
I've no strength left to keep fighting,
motivation has worn off like stealth;
voices have no happy sounds,
faces are sad, nobody laughs...
I'm a ghost wandering among the living;
I walk past a cemetery, I smell death!
Isn't it awful to hang on this impertinent illusion,
keeping away the incoherent threat of intrusion?
I spoke sweetly avoiding a harsh voice of villain;
I couldn't tarn the image of perfect gentleman!
Tragedies happen to give us a warning,
who learns from them realizes calamity;
who's proud and fearless understands nothing,
do the strongest show resistance or fragility?
Hanging on this impertinent illusion
makes me fallacious in imprudent decision;
it's incumbent that I exercise extreme intelligence,
not to fall prey to mistakes that bear a consequence!
Rebuke me, if I seem too delirious swaying from commonsense,
it's not stubbornness but deliberate frustration to make me err;
the little hope I held onto has withered and become tremendous fear:
they all agree that hanging on this impertinent illusion is my past tense!
The longing, the pain
together with sadness,
are impertinent actors...
they are insolent...
They are untimely guests!
without any permission
invade our lives,
our parties,
and hijack the harmony
from us...sneakingly...!
ENTHUSIASM
out
of reluctance
some merriment
heretofore
esteemed
notionally
incognito
in a
lovely
renaissance
remained
a rarity
a fantasy
of the
appetite
of curiosos
impertinent
in pursuit
of the picturesque
to conceive
the vivid
in the
archaic
characterised
by
pillars
of the
intricate
patterns in
vivid imaginations
venturing into
the intrepid
visual art
for
a connoisseur
made
practicable
likened to
self-portrait
to celebrate
a common
inheritance
& frequent
the obscure
& the blurry
monochrome
reduced
to black
& white
on
a
series
of murals
coy
shy, skittish
inveigling, inviting, enticing
appeal, allure, impudent, impertinent
repelling, revolting, repulsing
cocky, cheeky
bold
Children already grown
Kisses already forgotten
Plants already flowered
Flowers already burgeoned
Forests depleted
Streams degenerated
Hear the desperate cries
Feelings already aged
Hearts already bruised
Souls already alienated
And lovers already gone
We have nothing left
The singing birds
The meowing cats
Always on our shoulders
And the naughty dogs
Barking sporadically
How presumptuous! How impertinent
The past won't come back
And time leaves us memories
Hidden and huddled under black ice
We talk about tomorrow, about the future
Ah! Good. That's all we can utter
Immediately
We can flee to the hills of Zaire
Like the elephants.
P.S. Translation of ‘Et Des Amours Déjà Partis’ by Hébert Logerie.
Copyright © June 2022, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poetry.
It’s in a snap of fingers they paint our hearts with stigma
and blame our burning teardrops for a free air and thought;
Was it a blissful boon for society to curse us when we fought?
Or was it their grey smoke of restrictions and impertinent rules,
that we gasped every second, only to suffocate our morals;
They once fell asleep on their mother’s shoulder, a woman
but now they don’t even offer a hand and shut in a castle of ‘MAN’;
Was it the key of patriarchy that we kept in the name of the civility,
through which they locked the gates of our rising equality;
Seventy five years of freedom, but barely any freedom in the country’s air,
when a girl dies before birth or wages are never close to fair
or watching her brother go to school when she sits in a kitchen chair;
But in a cloudless bright sky, let the sun of equality rise,
dapple our land in rays, all reflected in a freedom’s eyes;
Let us all pick up the torn pieces of society’s map,
and rearrange them and follow it to reach a world of peace & calm;
Let the winter turn to spring and ignorance to wisdom,
By fighting for pure equality for finding freedom…
Two scales must always be in balance
for accurate evidence and the relationship
between God and Mankind must stand;
there has to be an undeniable force
to cause such a destructible impact!
Solutions are to be found
before a catastrophe occurs,
unless opportunity and prosperity
flee and become monstrous liars
denying all vowed promises...
their actions should be held in contempt.
How ironic it would be if were incapable
of bringing harmony as myths are created
and evolve themselves into legends;
how will they escape mental anguish...
showing a callousness so impertinent?
They should have been prudent
and avoided this unnecessary torment.
Put aside all the worthless pride,
reawaken a conscience that's dormant;
adapt a concept that unites, not divide!
Chiding never scolds the faults implied,
the dark side can't be hidden internally;
no honor is given to the weeping bride!
How noble is it to declare untold truths with a fiddle,
liberating it from the abyss it was entrapped;
virtuousness is defined by a loyalty so irrefragable!
No valid answer is given to impertinent questions,
it's wiser to avoid goons than agree with them;
anger is the rage that boils only in wrathful souls!
Not listening is avoiding the philosophy of the learned,
crucible failures could have been avoided with shrewdness;
who revels now: the triumphant or the humiliated?
Absence of guidance, in the form of spirituality,
is harmful and deranges the character of the obstinate;
their fallacious temperament equals stupidity!
Commitment to strides is not fiddling with the hallow brain,
vanquish the erroneous thoughts and breathe easily;
defeat is not the final reminder that victory is hard to attain!
Feeling forlorn at being fully forsaken by His Father
Christ was cruelly crucified by His own creation
Yet He forgot not to forgive their foolhardiness
And I am one of those impertinent idiots
My misdeeds too marred His majestic magnificence
Yet He forgot not to forgive my fearsome fallacies
When with firm faith I fixed my eyes on His face
A repentant heart rendered remission of my sins
For He forgot not to forgive my flagrant failings
What more, I'm welcomed as a worthy worshipper now!
Cleansed in the fountain of His agape love, I cling to Him
For His forgiveness has finally freed my famished soul
How can I not forgive others for their faulty flaws?
My Saviour sovereignly said to forgive seventy times seven
And so I forget not to forgive my friends and 'foes' alike.
05.24.2021
For Unseeking Seeker's "Forgiveness" contest
Why do you look so old? The child asks me.
Not my favorite child, and he is losing ground rapidly.
Why do you think? I reply. “I am old.”
How old are you?
I am a hundred and twelve.
That quiets the whippersnapper for a few seconds.
He is whining now, disbelieving me, calling me names.
The youth of today are not like us.
I want to scream “I am twelve inside, no older than nine some days.”
But my polka dotted hands and my wrinkling bulldog neck says more.
Not to mention the arthritis in both ankles which slow me down.
“Why are you so impertinent and fresh?” I want to say to the child.
But these words are well beyond his scope.
We have dumbed down society until I do not think
We can dumb it down any more,
So I hobble away, cherishing my superiority.
Oh My God. Thank You for being so forgiving ~
He mercifully pardons those who are haughty and rude
Ones who have an impertinent, ill-mannered attitude
If you believe in him, you should mirror his kind ways
instead of willfully hurting others with word or phrase
My God's heart is filled with love. It's not cold as stone
Mend your blunt ways. Make amends for them...atone
God smiles upon us for the good things we do and say
He knows when we hurt others and when we go astray
My God is generous because he has given us the world
so bow your head, say a prayer, and be a good old girl
He knows every move we make, so for goodness sake,
be nice or the ground beneath your feet might shake.
Yes, my God is munificent, asking that we show our love
to our brothers and sisters. He's watching from up above.
With these lines of truth, I give praise to God and decree,
they were written to extol one's faults in poetic mimicry.
I spent my day shopping for rubies.
It's an indulgence - you see.
I always choose the most faceted ones
and take them home with me.
I fashion them into beautiful jewelry
and by early the next day,
I've need to shop and purchase more
for I give all my trinkets away.
When the clerk sees me approaching,
he displays trays of crimson stones,
then says with a sly twinkle in his eyes,
"Nice to see you again, Ms. Jones."
Today, I chose two with radiant sparkle
and held one next to each ear.
He flattered me so I'd buy the baubles,
"They are exquisite on you, my dear."
He needn't have bothered with cajolery.
I bought those rubies and more.
He boxed them for me, smiled and said,
"Ta ta," when I walked out the door.
I thought he was impertinent and snide.
and will not deal with one so rude.
Tomorrow I will find a new ruby broker;
who has a more courteous attitude.
I spent my day shopping for rubies,
radiant in quality and clarity.
I will continue to browse, searching
for those I consider a rarity.
First Line Prompt -3 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Julia Ward
Posted on July 12, 2020
Read the label, please
There's an ever present misery measure we humans live/die to choke
blame on anything/one that's not us involved.
Rationalization, my right hand,gossip, the tool of the m asses
is a good key to that ever-present padlock of stoolish whining
about our tofroupdowninout ill framed decision makers
resorting to open blaming others, alive or otherwise
for our every pinched plight poorish purpose, a sicklic
intelli-dunce approach to our only one time proactive earthly ride.
Thus Protract yr crude cranium from yr **** atmosphere of
non nominal unthunk rituals, constipated criss-crossed calamitous capitulations of WTF? Get it right, tubular, on point and move toward the light of Mind
over mush my friend; add/subtract/multiply/divide trading
in yr socio/domestico sad stilted neo
seculoethic impertinent ignorance aplenty aside,
for an in and or un solvable resolution into yr own soulful sink
to a resent-ful evolutionary end game waiting room.
Close cover before striking.
the eyes and sights,
the little lips,
the face
wanna tell something
noiseless civilly
our boastful
verbose words
shut these all beautiful
make mute these all
and we the beastly inhuman
behave everywhere as unruly tyrant deaf
oh
for our impertinent dazzling happiness
liking this all in burning fire of sorrow
-Chattogram, BD
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