Long Everything under the sun Poems
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After checking the Sears and Roebuck and Montgomery Wards catalogs until their pages were torn and faded, we took one last look at the sales ads in the local newspaper, donned our socks and sandal, and jumped into the station wagon to head out to that brand new shopping place called ‘The Mall’. Wheee doggies it was something. That joint was a jumpin’. It was cool and hip and out of sight. I mean it was really far out man. The mall had everything you could imagine, all in one building. There was store after store jam-packed with VCRs, rotary dial phones, cassette tapes, console TVs, One-Hour Photo, Blockbuster, and Toy’s-R-Us. It seemed like they had everything under the sun ready for a layaway plan.
After paying for the purchases with paper checks written in cursive, we’d head on down to the food court or the all-you-can-eat buffet for lunch. We’d sit on the red plastic-covered chairs and light up a couple of Kents, Chesterfields, Viceroys, Virginia Slims, or maybe some Lucky Strikes. We’d take a couple of pictures with our trusty Polaroid to commemorate the day by adding them to the family photo album. At the end of the day, the kids would jump into the back of the station wagon for a nap while we drove the two-hour-long trip back home. It was a good thing we only had to stop for gas once because, after all that shopping and eating, I only had two dollars left from the fifty we started out with. Seems like the high cost of just living is one thing that will never die.
On Main street’s sidewalks,
the store sign say they are closed,
is Christmas canceled.
The red glow of the setting sun weaves and ripples over yonder horizon
I gaze from the edge of a cliff with no path to advance even a step forward
was so sad and gloomy I turned myself back to see the trail I have left behind.
And I saw the path I walked in the past, I walked again the path of past
and spotted myself standing along the side of the path and at that moment
an irresistible impulse I wanted to hug and cry with him
because he looked so sad and lonely.
The one who I dearly loved, the one who I overly valued,
therefore, couldn’t unleash was nothing more than a shadow
reflecting on the roadside, the shabby shadow, looks more miserable
than anything else comparable to things that which surrounds him.
Why is that so?
That’s because I didn’t know everything under the sun
had their place and went before me,
or I don’t even want to know the reason for the existence of things
or search for this simple and clear reason for existence of the things.
And that means that my happiness and sadness were moving along
with the time calmly from the bridge over eternity. My anxiety and joy
dwelt in the cave of darkness, turning its back to the world
from the beginning of the time and way before the dawn of my existence.
Since view from this, where I came this far without the problems
that beyond my capacity to cope with, is admirable. Although I am
standing at the edge of the cliff it can be said that it’s a great blessing
to me and a privilege to watch the red glow of the setting sun.
I’ll always remember
That morning when unexpectedly
I phoned you from the bus station
It must have been four a.m.
You came running to meet me
I’d never been so happy to see you
The chill in the air was delightful
We strolled for hours
The downtown sidewalks and canal
It was much too early
To find an open coffee shop
We finally stopped at a park bench
At times joking and laughing
At times ponderous and peaceful
Talked about everything under the sun
Shared our thoughts and philosophies
That’s when we decided
To share homebrewed coffee
It was a time to cherish forever
Precious among my most tender memories
Read on air by invitation ~ May 5, 2021 'WORDS & MUSIC'
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
Submitted on October 28, 2017 for contest FREE VERSE III sponsored by LAURA LOO - RANKED 3RD
The best day of the year is every day,
Having its own concern or matter;
Everything under the sun
Is willed by the Almighty Father.
The first early morn of the year
Is observed in fireworks display;
The dawn of the newborn
Is celebrated on his birthday.
Dates of graduation, wedding,
And other joyful occasions are heard;
A mournful demise moment too
Is annually remembered.
Within a year memories of disasters
Or events occurred fade not easily;
Indelible marks they leave
In the hearts of humanity.
At the end of the year
People give thanks to the Lord;
Grateful for His unceasing care,
They vow to follow His word.
Each and every day does promise
A new hope and a fresh start;
We must treasure it in our life,
In our soul, mind and heart.
No figure in the whole calendar
Has in the world no big role to play;
For the best day of the year
Is each and every day.
“So this is your yearly assessment
Pray tell how you feel you have done
Since we made you Head of Progressment
Shaping everything under the Sun.”
“My achievements are way beyond measure
And whilst I am not one to boast
I’ve brought people sadness and pleasure
And any that sin become toast.”
“We gave you eight different departments
And threw in an outlying one
Yet, it seems to me, that Department Three
Was where you had most of your fun.”
“Listen, Guv, ‘Fun’ doesn’t cut it
I had proper plans for that place
And frankly I did try to shut it
I did at least try to save face.”
“We know that it’s true that little Old Blue
has cast its spell often before
But we allocated the system to you
And thought you’d achieve rather more.”
“Okay, I messed up, but that’s a bit harsh
You handed me gases and dust
Then watched me drag men from a primeval marsh
Yet none of you seem very fussed.”
“It’s all quite impressive, but can’t be allowed
We have to protect our positions
These men that you speak of are now quite a crowd
And creating unpleasant conditions.”
“You seemed to like all my volcanoes,
My earthquakes and boulders from space
I’ll wipe my slate clean, but I’ve had lots of goes
And I can’t shake that darned human race.”
“Well here’s a design change on which we won’t budge
Put chopped liver between their ears
You see, Mr God, we’re not here to judge
But you can’t let them have their ideas.”
worst types of people in the world
my mother had opinions
about everything under the sun
dividing the world
into those that bored her
amused her or charmed her
dividing the world in those that knew
and those that did not know
she had particular scorn
for so called experts
saying a PHD
meant BS piled high and deep
never trust an expert
she would expertly assert
her greatest scorn
her greatest scorn
was for reformed drunks
calling them the worst
of the lot
they should shut up
and have a drink already
she smiled as she drank
and pontificated
about the political class
she had enough of them all
berkeley hill liberals bored her
bored her silly
with their endless games
among the literati set
Time has no wings
But it flies faster than bald eagles and fast jets
Time has no rings
But it is engaged or bound to ‘no safety nets’
And married with death.
We are all migrants in the depth
Of the valleys. We are passing by
Like the wind. No matter how hard we try
We will have to go
Like an unwanted cargo.
Time is nobody’s enemy
Be smart to lend a hand
To a stranger, for no real friend
Exists in this messy quagmire
Where everything is strange and dire.
We really own nothing
We are all living on borrowed time
We shall pay for the crime
Remember that we own nothing
Yet we keep on fantasizing and dreaming.
Time, which is not an enemy
Owns everything under the sun
And everything under the blue moon
FYI: Nobody has returned from Heaven
Not even the wisest angel of the deep blue Sea.
Copyright © April 2025, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.
They walked into the bookstore…a young girl and her mother
and as they browsed throughout the store they held hands with one another.
I love the innocence of the young for wherever they chose to look
The little girl asked, “Mom can I have this puzzle…Mom, can I have this book.”
She asked for every book she saw…everything under the sun
and after negotiating for a while…they narrowed it down to one.
When they arrived at the counter they were smiling…still holding hands with one another…they held in their other hands two books…one for the little girl…one for the mother.
I rang them up and I asked the mother, as I always do, when they were ready to go
if she wanted a receipt to which she smiled and answered…”No”.
But then the little girl spoke up…in a voice both innocent and sweet
“If it’s okay with you” she asked, “could I have the receipt?”
“Certainly.” I said as I watched the smiles on their faces unfurl
when I handed the two books to the mother and the receipt to the little girl.
What a wonderful moment for me…what a wonderful treat…
as I watched that little girl smile while repeating….“This is my very first receipt.”
The mother smiled at her daughter then glanced back and gave me a look
“She seems more excited about the receipt,” she said,
“than she is about her book.”
And I had to smile as immediately my brain turned back all my internal clocks
to a time when we bought our son the perfect birthday present
and that present spent the day untouched while he played inside the box.
I hope some day this memory will stir…perhaps triggered by someone they meet…
of the time her mother bought her a book…but all she wanted was the receipt.
We can never forget 9/11
We will forever remember such a date
A date that will live in infamy
A date that has everything in it:
Sadness, fire, death, destruction and bravery
Heroism, sickness and resilience, except happiness
9/11/2001 is a memorable and a daring date
That changed the world. Things are not seen like
The day before. We have a different perspective
About life and everything under the sun
We learn new ways of mourning, sighing
Fighting, of course new ways of being absolutely resilient
No, we will never forget this fateful day where terrorism
Became a new word. Everybody is talking about the death
Of so many brave first responders: firefighters, policemen
And many others who wear proudly their uniforms
We shall never forget 9/11. We will never forget 9/11
The sacrifices made by the brave civilians who had lost their lives
Are priceless. The eternal flame in our heart cannot be extinguished
We know that everyone in NYC and elsewhere will always
Remember how the world got shocked, stunned by these egregious
And deadly actions perpetrated by a bunch of sick cowards
9/11/2001 is a monument engrained in our brain which will live there
For a very long time. The memories of the braves are metastasized
In our psychic, no one can suppress them without killing us cold
"911" is no longer three numbers but a historic symbol like Pearl Harbor
9/11/2001 is now 18 years old.18 years of tears, fear, pain and suffering
We shall never forget 9/11. We will remember. We can never forget 9/11.
Copyright © 9/11/2019, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.
how can you love wholeness, when your not whole within?,
the answer behind this is HE looks past your sins,
from changing "I" to "We" you now can see,
all of HIS grace is sufficiant for thee,
man's words are only part of the soul,
to learn more of this as you get old,
resting is momentary, in time to heal your soul,
man doesn't need proof of this part of loving to show,
as trust in HIM is gained, it's relied upon more,
the practice of the heart standing still in the midst of the storm,
for it is not a physical action in this moment of peace,
in HIS timing, each kind is released,
a time for everything under the sun,
a time to sit, a time to run,
fluckuating back and forth, sometimes quick changes, quick demands,
in following HIS spirit to understand,
a quick response to change can equipt us for more,
this flexibility comes from the Lord,
knowing when to be silent, the balance of the heart to be ingrained,
through love as faith moves, in the end no real mistakes,
just a deep love, a deep trust, through faith to believe,
it lays in the hope of the faith of the unseen,
for this is how i learn to trust in you more,
to know this love i cannot physically see is the basis of more...