Long Regrettably Poems
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To have the greatest family ever known
After so many years you stand here alone.
You try to grieve and let go, after all life isnt forever
But each time the heart crumbles screaming "No never!"
Still years pass just the same
Ignoring the hurt, closure never came
Afraid to accept it and where thier memory may go
Alone and lost, not wanting vulnerablility to show.
Knowing each night as you look up at the stars above
They will forever be remembered because of your love.
You spend your nights and days hating the cancer that took them away
Someone finding a cure is all you pray
Wanting only to be back in the comfort of days gone so long
Hopelessly lost nowhere to turn nor to belong.
Yet one foot keeps being set in front of the other
I carry on regrettably missing the best brother, sister, and mother.
For crying out loud, the flowers are gorgeous,
Fresh, happy, young, alive, and vivacious.
Regrettably, we, humans, cut their lives short,
From time to time, from events to events.
For God’s sake, let the flowers live like the monuments,
Let them enjoy a long life, like the statues in the court.
Almost every event, like birthdays, weddings and anniversaries,
Is the end for those petals, which are sinking in past memories.
Even the funerals are not sympathetic to the beautiful lilies.
In lieu of flowers, why can’t they write beautiful poems,
Make memorable cards or fake flowers with dead leaves?
Let the flowers live in the garden, and plant them in the cemeteries,
In lieu of flowers, send meaningful poems that inspire dreams.
For crying out loud, please end the customary bereaves.
Copyright © October 2015, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.
Saving my breath for next time...I get offended for no reason some of the times...sometimes, I wish I wasn't a joke in your eyes...at times, I wish I was taken not lightly or taken for granite by you! I feel that I'm insignificant and worthless in your eyes when I should be gold and silver on the spotlight...a celebrity with fame and fortune is what I deserve to be because of all the busy work and effort I've done with my perfect pick of being a singer songwriter...I should've been famous by now and I crave recognition and appreciation daily and nightly...but, alas, to no avail! Temporary, natural highs transform to hideous lows of disappointing desolation
Don't put me down...don't shame my name of fortunate fame...don't humiliate me with your upside down frown...don't hunt me down with your negative ways, for my positivity can be hunted down like untamed game; friendemy you came out to be and I'm nervouscited by the way you make me feel...anger got in the way, but you overlook that and understand me like it's no big deal...you are forgiving and I know I'm forgiven, for you and He has given me many chances, but I didn't pass the test of loyalty a few months later...I got hospitalized 6 times for my emotional pain that has been captive in my inner being for a long period of time...bipolar bruised my self-esteem, but you and I are on each other's team no matter what circumstances we encounter...my past is behind me and I paid my vows to you with my trust, so we are moving forward in light of a fantastic future of gracious glory...sorrowful in love...regrettably from down above
"Dead leaves lay still, even the last flower is withered: yet there is a beauty in decayed imperfection." Taken from a quote by _Constance La France
On an orbital rotation around our planet every day, nothing stays the same. We change our surroundings change, our thoughts change, constantly evolving into what we are and what we will be tomorrow.
Everything changes. Some things grow bigger or older, some are renewed, restored or replaced, some break or decay. Nothing stays exactly the same. Therefore we are never finished changing. As it was intended, or broken, still nothing is perfect forever. Regrettably Rolls Royce rust.
Aren’t you ashamed of me?”, said the pot with the crack.
“Every day you carry me, yet I only bring half the water back.”
The old woman replied. ”Didn’t you notice I carry you on the same side?
You do a great job and I always carry you with much pride.
You see every day, as I walk back you water each flower.
All these beautiful flowers are because of you."
Knowing a fault and making use of it, not alienating the item because of its fault but accentuating it, creates joy.
"When you were perfect, I loved you when you were not, I loved you more.”
The old woman kept the withered pressed bouquet, it’s in a box displayed on the shelf. From their wedding day, glorious red roses, now in decay. She smiles as she remembers its beauty and that of herself.
The flowers she kept, emphasizing their imperfections caused by age, give her joy.
She loved them when they were perfect, their beauty actually means more to her now that they are not perfect, as their remnants have lasted all these years.
All things must be looked upon as spiritually one and of use either aesthetically or practically, (or able to be recycled).
I want to believe that when I die,
I will enter a tunnel of light.
And rising in its spiral embrace,
Angels will take away all my fears.
God's everlasting love will anoint
and sanctify my eternal soul.
And bathed in His grace and purity,
I'll be free of temptation and sin.
Exhalation will follow Death's touch,
as it sets my eternal soul free.
And I'll instantly rise to heaven,
assured of my immortality.
Cut from all earthly ties, my soul will
slip away, from my mortal body.
And cradled in the arms of rapture,
I will bask in the glory of God.
I'd like to believe in paradise,
and yet, regrettably, I do not.
For it's my belief that life's fleeting,
and when we die, we cease to exist.
In the indifferent desiccated wasteland
obscure tender tufts of slender grass
struggle to rise through the cleavage of ruthless rocks,
their tips holding the pearls of dew drops,
sparkling in the shine of the rising sun.
I see in them the faces of the children of fate
lighted by the waning smile of residual innocence,
although regrettably for them the sun rises
with no rays of hope, no tinge of dream,
for it has already set in the dark horizon of future.
The infirm dew drops don’t bejewel the grass,
they’re tarnished by the dirt of our times.
In the harsh winds of servitude
they toil, uncared and soiled,
they dry and disappear, ignored and abandoned.
In the glare of the blazing sun
the dreams of dew die premature.
It pains me, it hurts me
to see their blank colorless faces,
carrying the vestiges of joy of juvenile splendor,
flowing in tears, drowning in the depth of obscurity,
Nobody helps, doesn’t hold their hands,
nobody cares, doesn’t take them to the shore of wellbeing.
In my twilight hours
I wish to give the last rays of my setting sun
to the hue-less dew drops, so they can glow,
I wish to drip the last drop of empathy,
so their innocent smile doesn’t dry,
I wish to show the children of deprivation
the dreams of dew that would never die.
Things That Should Grow on Trees
Things that should grow on trees include:
big sea birds with
extremely long wings, old-fashioned shoe
horns, tape recorders who
play sporadically cries of
grief, blank
photographs, stamps with
printed eyeballs, people with
colourless or
very nearly colourless hair and
skin and
pinkish eyes, the word
unfortunately, the word
regrettably, the word
even though, miniature
pianos, vampire
teeth, leaf
blowers, False
IDs, illuminated loyalty
cards, the watchful and
attentive, damp
clothes, pom
poms, glass
shards, pack of
cards, rope knot
balls, plastic
trinket boxes, ashtrays (glass only), lips (too
animal lips), spines (too
animal spines), toast, headache
tablets, running
shoes, and
whores.
1. In reflecting upon our relationship, I find myself grappling with the stark contrast between your professed affection and the deceitful actions that have characterized your behavior. Initially, I was optimistic about moving past a previous romantic involvement and discovering fulfillment with you. However, it has become increasingly clear that you have engaged in duplicitous conduct, masking your true self behind a veneer of femininity. Throughout our discussions, we shared numerous dreams and aspirations regarding our potential partnership. Yet, your choice to pursue a man who has caused you harm and betrayal, rather than nurturing the possibilities of our connection, has left me profoundly disheartened. While I recognize my own past indiscretions and limited encounters with authentic love, I feel compelled to address this matter with professionalism. I have been fortunate to experience deep love in the past, and when I met you, I believed there was a chance for a similarly enriching bond. Regrettably, it has become clear that your intentions were insincere and that you lack a genuine capacity for love. Your primary aim appeared to be to receive affection from anyone, irrespective of the authenticity of the relationship. I once regarded you as a friend, a confidant, and a potential romantic partner. However, I have come to understand that you are simply who you are, and I must now distance myself from you. As I send a kiss into the wind and offer my final thoughts for you, I express my gratitude for unveiling your true nature rather than the person I had hoped you would become. This concludes my narrative—a story of betrayal by someone who misled a woman.
What if I was the man of every girl's dream,
Regrettably, they didn't know it.
Though certain things didn't exist instantly,
Yet I was him and couldn't show it.
What if you found him when you met me,
In your presence there I stood.
I had no wings of an angel, nor aura heavenly,
Yet I could do what no other man would.
You knew who I was and knew my name,
We've crossed paths and life moved on.
The quest for perfection was to blame,
Which is why misfortune stood strong.
Not to say vainly, "I'm God's gift to the world,"
Just what if I was created to be
The man of your dreams, liked by woman and girl;
Would you overlook or choose me?
©2013 Honestly JT
You are all I have ever known
Since we were oh so very young
To the point I began to taste of your tongue
You were like my Windows 98
Compatible with my internal computer
But far to familiar i could operate you blind in the dark
And that is nice but it lacks spice
Spark and fire are what my heart desire's
Not knowing each move you make
1 step before and ahead of you
I haven't stopped loving you
Regrettably I am just no longer
Revved up by you
So does this mean we are over
I ask myself can I pave over
The nagging fact that our Sex life is over
And if the price for a proverbial roll in the hey
Is a price I am willing to pay
Above the Wallpaper on my Computer
Of you and our Children
The family home and life we have paved
I wish I could pop this pimple
Put my desire's to bed
Derail suck base thinking lust off track
And take me back to the place
When you were my final thought before bed
My stroke come dawn before morning
Why is Love so hard
After you have filled up my dance card
Shouldn't I love you more today
Than yesterday
If only Love
Was Memory on an Old Computer
There would be no need for cleaning windows