The challenge is on front of me
I tried
I tried
I let them see the best of me
I lied
I lied
I've mastered the trade of self-deception
But still failed in self-preservation
I focus on the horizon
I see
I see
But I can be better than what I am
I'll be
I'll be
This can be all im am
Or the beginning of what i can be
This can be all im am
This can be all im am
This can be all im am
Or, the beginning of what I can be
propriety pawed ° *°. *. °•. *
* ° .• °. *. °•. * °. • °. * ` °. •.
a calliope of stars °•. *. . * °
* °•. ; *°•. °•. *. • °. •. ; •. °. *
sobriety awed! °. • °•. *. •°
•°. °• * ;. * •° °•. *. °•. * •°
I purposely arranged this poem to look like our flag!
On "my" flag, the stars can't be contained in a corner!
Our modern day monarchy, only have the stars...in their eyes!
The Things We Don’t Inherit
We inherited warnings before we understood the danger,
rules whispered from one woman to another.
Hold your keys between your fingers.
Watch your drink. Don’t walk home alone.
We inherited apologies for taking up space,
and the instinct to make ourselves smaller.
We inherited stories told carefully,
as though the truth might break in our mouths.
I wonder how many women before us
wanted to leave something different.
Not the fear.
Not the shame someone else put in their hands.
Maybe what we leave behind can be a door
the next woman does not have to force open.
A boundary already given a name.
A voice that makes hers easier to find.
I cannot choose everything that was left in me.
Some things become scars before we can refuse them.
But I can choose what I leave in you.
And you can choose what you leave in her.
They left us a fight.
I want us to leave each other.
— Sofia Aronovsky
DAWNED AND PERPENDICULAR
Another day dawned;
We’re here perpendicular.
Let’s give God the praise:
“It’s the day the Lord has made;
Enjoy and be glad in it”.
Scars tell a story
Of a life that has been lived
That's dreamt of a tomorrow
After all the **** is sieved
Scars provide some clues
Of what you had to face
Damage to the body
Forever leaves its trace
Scars of the mind
More difficult to tell
Hide behind the smiles
Of living after hell
If only we would recognise
That scars signify health
They would be held in high regard
More valuable than wealth
For they map our survival
Humankind's desire
To overcome all obstacles
And something to admire
Everyone wants a piece of me…
that’s what a large part of life
is. Wife, children, friends and
neighbors – little love bites for
attention~ the cats. And what
matters most, at the end of a
day, a life? – instead of left whole
I would rather have been fondly
portioned out, a good taste left on the sampling
palates of acquaintances. Relationships are
more triangles than circles...a
few pointed edges, pricked as
we navigate attractions. In my geometries
at the center real hearts....
Squares not pointed enough,
and circles rather boring.
Pieces are portions and portions
once an entire pie. Apples,
cinnamon and lots of brown sugar --
what the heck! Sweets are great
preservatives…. Maybe in charge
of bakeries my destiny if flavorful
decadence occasionally allowed in
the Here-after? I mean, if castles
and pavement of gold, why not pastries?
Do dentists ever make it to heaven?
As the deer longs for running streams—
Therese missed chocolate éclair creams
That’ll make sense if you see her movie
by St. Luke Productions — it is groovy! :)
But in the last scene, her soul rose above—
her prior statement, proclaiming True Love!
Throughout the ages, women born
To face the wicked woes of scorn
Expectations often vary
With those around remaining wary
Conformity is what is needed
Rules to life that should be heeded
For if you try to break the mould
Your spirit swiftly will be told
To fall in line, to not stand out
To fear a God, stay quiet, don't shout
Differences they will not tolerate
Seeking ways to which eradicate
Dunking those under suspicion
Rumours of their own fruition
Whipping, hanging, burning souls
Celebrating life's own goals
Have we learned our fickle fate
When we continue to berate
Those women who speak aloud
Standing tall within a crowd
Challenging our expectations
Often missed as desperations
A different place to cast aspersions
Quantifying different versions
Of how a woman should behave
Be she timid, be she brave
What have we learned, what have we gained
Of destiny still preordained
For women should fit in a mould
To nurture, care and to behold
The rules that govern in our mind
Ensure we stay a step behind
Later than the Witchcraft's wonder
We still are judged and casted asunder
The low lands call
I ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ answer
They are ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ a free dwelling
Without having to conquer
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ mountain makes its move
Beckoning me to ascend
A ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ difficult path
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ up the slippery bend
I cannot choose both
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ a choice to make
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦
This will determine my fate
I ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ choose the mountain
With ¦¦¦ its stress and strain
¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ by climbing
¦¦¦ I rise above the plain
I choose the mountain
¦¦¦ I will never stop climbing
I choose the mountain
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ forever ¦¦¦ ascending
I choose the mountain
(Blackout of "I Choose the Mountain" by Howard Simon
WE RISING AND WAXING FRUITS
Hanging here,
We are the fruits
Of the tree
Of liberating life,
In the Edenic Garden’s
Beginning of its own being:-
However, be aware, we’re not
Of mutated, vile, apple seeds,
Nor are we as drained raisins
Hanging in the shining sun:-
Rather, we’re hued seeds
Of the melons of water
Hydrating flowing life;
Indeed, we’re fruits
Of the seeds of undying loved,
Reflected in the mirror of life:
Viewed in the eternal light
Of the sun and its moon,
Rising and setting;
Waning and
Waxing:-
Thus, as fruits of The Sower
Of the rising sun and the womb of the moon,
We too, shall have our waxing and rising equity:-
BEING BEAUTIFULLY BONDED
Let’s live lovely life,
Wonderfully woven with
Our oneness’ onement:
God’s graceful guidance growing;
We, wishfully, well woven:-
I have an amor
I have a sparkling star
I have a beautiful flower
Yes, I am a wonderful lover.
I have loved you for a long time
That is my honest response
You are mine; let’s dance
Because we’re still in our prime.
Mon amour, c’est toi
Autrement, je suis sur la croix
Oui, tu es mon amour, mi amor
Even though I love you from afar
I swear that you are my love
That’s why so many birds are soaring above
Not too far the celestial moon
This marvelous afternoon.
I have an amor
I am different than before
I am in love with a spirit
I feel fine, very fine. That’s it
You are ma chérie, mon amour, mi amor
My love. Yes, yes, yes, you are.
Who is mi amor?
It is you, you, you, my effulgent star.
Copyright © October 2026 Hébert Logerie. All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several poetry collections.
In late January, I met them. It was a corner that I finally turned in my life. Shy… that was never me until I lost my friends. And when I found new ones, I was still that.
But friendships are sweet.
We acted like we'd known each other forever after a month, and it was almost a honeymoon period. I was learning inside jokes and the tea about all the guys.
See… friendships are sweet.
Prom was exactly four months after we met, and we all were in our gowns and new at this, being freshman that year. I left them for a bit, to talk to my crush, and they kept cheering me on. I love them so much.
Friendships are so sweet.
Never forget that.
They'll grow into a tree that bears many aamazing fruits, and you jus have to be patient with it.
We dance singing songs of Love.
sinister dreams of wild death.
I saw him preaching the Gospel after the Rapture.
Harvey Levin preached the good news in my dreams.
very strange that I woke up made a video talking about it.
Harvey Levin a tribulation Saint wild dream.
Praise Jesus forever.
Thank you Jesus forever.
Time is a fond melody, a dance
Time is a kiss, a romance~ a breath
shared held out to eternity
Time is a wish – a nurtured wait
never letting the desired answer
stray far from ones appealing heart
Clocks and seasons mean little to Time
sort of like, pies without their fillings
Time is experience, and not measuring --
Some live long, have few regrets~ and as
few victories – Time wasted.
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