There are sentences that are inaudible
And words that are passively silent
Oh! Words, verbs, innuendoes and pirouettes
We instantly ask incredulous questions.
Their gestures sometimes are understandable
Clever foxes hide behind vices
We comprehend very well why racists
Are intermittently invisible.
Oh! Silence that is when words do not exist
We see rats robbing the store at daylight and the cats
Patiently and intelligently examine the list
Of the remaining victims peacefully and wisely.
Words are often deadly dangerous
Daring the weapons of inequality around the hellish fire
Which is about to consume the desperate city
Where the words are silent and strangled.
Hebert Logerie , September 29, 2013
Happiness and sadness are equi-distant from each other
It's the speed that makes all the difference
From point to point
A distance travelled in our minds but takes hold of the body
Like a pendulum swinging from end to end
Our souls dim and perspectives flicker
A proud eagle becomes solitary
A vast vibrant field becomes lonely
Words are given innuendoes belonging to another
Hearts take shelter. feelings take cover
The distance puts the difference between solitude and loneliness
The difference between a recluse and confinement
Which is up Joy or Sorrow?
Are we overwhelmed by the drop or climb?
Do we wish to forever fall or fly?
Happiness and Sadness are equi-distant from each other
It's the speed that makes all the difference
Do we flee from sadness because we know how joy feels?
Or do we run to happiness because we know how sorrow feels?
Planting a seed of deceit to escape the blame,
Even the blind could see the trick in that dance.
Tangled deep in the web of truth-coloured falsehoods,
Dodgy as a broken glass that reflects beauty.
Only the trueness of its heart sees clear the truth~
Giving its forked tongue some time to rue its regret.
Care nor love enough to make a pet dog a pet.
Attention to fakeness won't turn it to truth.
Nothing but pure honesty makes truth a belief~
That deceit has only a few nights of good rest,
Before the truth shatters it into smithereens,
Ensuring lies don’t last beyond dawn’s first crow.
Only truth-coated innuendoes could fool so much,
Unless the ears that hear are clogged with thick wax~
Rolling out deceit as though not meant to deceive;
Pretending it wasn’t intended to sound absurd,
Ensuring that its belief was clouded by lies,
That made a lifeless toy believe it was a pet.
My heart leapt with all joy, still does, with doe eyes.
Back in that day, before I knew Elton’s face, the sighs
of my sister and I, as we lie in our parents bed,
hours of tuning in to the sounds we were fed.
My heart leapt with all joy, as this Middlesex man
belted out this timebomb tune. Pop rock began.
Begins with innocence, new releases rocks repress,
with the leer of a crocodile on “Suzie’s tight dress.”
A young mind doesn’t fixate on innuendoes; doe eyes
recklessly leap and dance; with time, lyrics synthesize.
The moment I hear this tune, I’m back in time, inside
my Haviland skin, “hopping and bopping” amplified.
Fingers intertwined in
wondrous oneness
together foreverness
breathtaking bliss
Eye to eye in
lyrical longing
melodic memories
soul symmetry
Backs turned to
bygone brokenness
solitary sanctums
heartbroken hibernation
Face to face in
aromatic anecdotes
possibility potpourri
enmeshed essences
Voices join in
rondos of rendezvous
chorales of compatibility
madrigals of mutuality
Heart to heart in
a fulcrum of fulfillment
a seesaw of serendipities
a trapeze of timelessness
Lips engaged in
passion's pendulum
voluptuous vocabularies
intoxicating innuendoes
She is lyrics and I am music
~ harmonizing a hypnotizing love song ~
a dizzying duet of delight
Mirror broken, shard's outspoken
Piercing, rupturing, into her heart
No prisoners taken, her life token
Devoured his latest thirst fulfilled
Appetite quenched, now plied art
As sly innuendoes, master skilled
A journeyman of no consequence
Thoughts brims, he can only blart
Ill poised, insecure, inconsequent
Others taken in by this false farce
So he waits on others info to part
As his truth found, is more sparse
What life, left inside of her, awaits
Her wounds heal, new life to start
Takes note of his narcissistic traits
Waits her turn, given no objection
A fury unfurled onto this dim clart
Fulfils a dream, of pure perfection
Life is a very long movie
Life is a brief biography
Life is not an encyclopedia
But a book of several chapters
Life is a garden of flowers
Do not blame Wikipedia
For the bad, fake or false stories
People love tragic or faulty memories
Please forgive the darn Media
The writers, the reporters, the journalists
Who have failed to expose the racists
The rapists, the killers, and the liars
Life is full of surprises and nightmares
Life is made of many sporadic dreams
Bring the lanterns, bring the beams
Our world is sinking in a dark hole
It's obvious that every day is not Super bowl
Life behaves like a roller-coaster
Wear the belt, danger is around the corner
Life is made of ups and downs
Horrors, chaos, innuendoes, stories
Souvenirs, fun and bad memories
Do your job, and ignore the clowns
Life is awesome, awkward and unpredictable
Life is strange, weird, different and delectable
Life is indeed a malayalam movie
Life is a short biography.
Copyright© March,2018, Hébert Logerie, All Rights Reserved
Hebert Logerie is the author of several poetry books.
MESSENGER
Blue circles
white lightning
my days vivify
ease pain
mollify
fright nights
and sleep
fighting
red numbered spheres
three bouncing dots
forgive and forget
me not’s
conversations
reparations
private jokes
and
innuendoes
soul breaking
life saving
love in
dialogue
© Kim van Breda—1 January 2016
Nigeria, the Soul of my Pride (Part One)
Nigeria, my country, where mournful of pledges aren’t reneged?
Indomitable she would have maintained, if crowns aren’t clowns
Gyrating on the mishaps, wearing wan gumption—unwelcome!
Ears do attend; but eyes haven’t yet seen what watery mouths do speak (of).
Roasting are to rich physiques, as paupers’ plights mount on their rotten.
Innuendoes of yesteryear ‘nattered’, nativities’ woes unforgettable.
Atrophying (now) are the little legacies her founding fathers had raised.
Nigeria my country, where true sons and daughters’ tongues sip in her bounties; sobbing,
Some are endlessly praying and raising their voice to hearings and their words to readings.
....
6/4/2014
There is a minority force out there
one of evil and intent
disguised by enchantment and empathy,
within surging tides of coercion
steers one’s ever defiling poetry
of the predator,
those that crave to share one’s shadow
and constantly demand on return
a challenge to please one.
Yet
with words created in a
cynical brief of heartlessness from
gardens of perversity, cultivated
in domains of lies, untruth,
when a trigger-happy progression of rapidness
perfumed in eloquent penetration
aimed at one’s very soul.
Every
word every stanza to tug at the recipient
being delivered in poetry humaneness,
inflicting the aroma of fragrance to entice gullibility
before the enforcement to the nurtured
of a mature kind,
and the eventual trial of tempting innuendoes.
With
defloration complete,
here one reaches the pivot of reaction
the highway crossroads of decision,
a last chance to tread the right road
some will, some will not
those to fall into another’s perverted obscenity
to be ensnared, then scarred for life!
© Harry J Horsman 2013
When all the delicate words are gone,
and all the subtle innuendoes have been written,
and my polite stance is overcome by passion;
patience ended by passion,
all that's left for me to say,
is "I want you".
"I love you"
"I want to kiss you".
"I want to make love with you, now".
I just cannot continue
my lattice work of words.
Unrequitted love has finally taken me down,
end of story.
Women who live singly and privately
suddenly become preys to fleas,
who are seeking self serving opportunities,
If they aren't married they are considered
old maids, or bombarded with innuendoes
and clandestine propositions,
The lengths people will go through to make acquisitions,
includes tales of work and corporate compensations,
when deep down it is the "Johnny Syndrome" set in
motion to cause corruption and defamation,
Why do folks assume that unmarried women need to
be controlled?
Does being married mean many women have sold their souls?
or are husbands really "Johns" in disguise,
Our changing world is proving to be not so nice......
In every corporation there are thugs,
that want to have their way while others
look in another direction, using threats
and devious deflections,
If challenged, or called on their game,
they become adamant, fresh and resort to
throwing around random blames,
Fear and innuendoes become their calling card,
spewing tales of the bodies they left in the graveyards,
or bragging of the bones they maimed, while
laughing and acting haughty,
Feeling no remorse or shame,
oblivious to the fact that others know they have been debaucherous
and naughty.
IF YOU WANT TO DO BETTER,
CHOOSE THE RIGHT THING,
GET YOUR MIND OUT THE GUTTER,
AND HEAR THE WAKE-UP CALL BELL RING:
WHY SOME WITH EYES CAN'T SEE?
NO ONE KNOWS.
FOOLS WITH LIMITED VOCABULARY,
RESORT TO INNUENDOES.
ELEVEN-FOUR-O-EIGHT,
HISTORY'S MADE.
ELECTED PRESIDENTIAL CANDIDATE,
BLACK MAN IS PRAISED.
BREAKIN' DOWN UGLY BARRIERS,
REPAIRING THE BREACH.
FUNDAMENTAL FAILURES,
HOPE IS NOW IN REACH.
BLACK, WHITE, YELLOW, RED,
GO & TELL A FRIEND.
STRIVE TO BE THE HEAD,
AND SET BEAUTIFUL TREND.
NOTHING COMES TO A SLEEPER,
ONLY A DREAM.
QUIT FLIRTIN' WITH GRIM REAPER,
JOIN THE RIGHT TEAM.
BE LIKE THE WONDER OF SPRING,
CREATE A DREAM LIST.
AND IF YOU FORGET EVERYTHING,
DO REMEMBER THIS:
GREAT MINDS IDEATE,
FUTURE LEADERS IN THE MAKING.
SMALL MINDS COMPLICATE,
CRIMINALS IN THE WAKING.
IF YOU WANT TO DO BETTER,
CHOOSE THE RIGHT THING,
GET YOUR MIND OUT THE GUTTER,
AND HEAR THE WAKE-UP CALL BELL RING.
I hate the taste of alcohol
a squalid little drink
that twists the thoughts inside of you
and changes what you think
It takes away whats good in life
destroy's the growth of love
replacing it with bitterness
it covers love in mud
its bitter innuendoes
it's thoughts provoking fears
With anger in the fights you share
your violence and your rage
the wholes within your budget
build room for lovers graves
the cost of loving beer my friend
is subtle deep and strong
attacking home and family
to me my friend that's wrong
You blame your wife, your husband
your son, the friends you share
destroying life around you
with each and every year
yet still you keep on drinking
your liquid cruelty clear
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