Long Sensational Poems
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POIGNANT ECHOES
(Combo Verse Forms)**
Go with the flow, go with the mood;
Live what you know, live what feels good.
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
Wind sifting
Bamboo vines sway;
Dawnlight bursting
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
Love wears a style,
Zest works the glow;
Charm floods a smile,
Pulse primes the show.
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
Listen
Empower
Enlightenment
Walking in the sure light
Now here
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
Love
Live
Beauty
Pulsations
Bamboo in the wind
Rapture in sensational feel
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
Becoming tints, being hurls poise;
Lovely lines surge, lively words fling;
Brilliant touch mint, crazy hint voice;
Purge of sure urge, choice feels the sting.
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
Lines and lines dash,
Piles and piles clash!
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
Salty sea spray, wind in my face;
Play primal pay, glimpse glowing grace;
Unknown this day, this abrupt space.
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
Choice follows poise
Be of good cheer
No need to rush
Things happen
For a good reason
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
Poignant feelings in sacred forfeit here;
Malingering maelstrom of crude satire;
Living and loving in precious good cheer.
Belief beyond the enlightenment fire;
Spur in sure feel of fanatical sire.
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
Leon Enriquez
14 Apr 2014
Singapore
(Note: Combo Verse Forms** -- Sequence as follows:
1 Couplet, 2 Haiku, 3 Quatrain, 4 Cinqku,
5 Fibonacci, 6 Quatrain, 7 Couplet, 8 Rhyme 3-line,
9 Free Verse 5-line, and 10 Terza Rima fragment.)
I offer to you my sweet heart every day
In lieu of heaven and honey cakes
I offer to you bouquets of pretty flowers
To see your sensational smile sparkle.
I think of you every second of the day
With you, I would like to go around
Around and around until I get ebriate
Where I’ll be dazed, and you, my love, bewildered.
Love does lavish wonders
Which schlep crazy happy days
Where I devote my faith and my ardor, to you, at all times.
Love opens wide the doors to great happiness
To let in the freshness of an eternal
And magical spring. Woman! I’m dreaming of old times.
P.S. Translation of ‘Pour Voir Jaillir Ton Sourire Exceptionnel’
By Hébert Logerie
Copyright © January 2023, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.
“I never Travel without my Diary, one should always have
something sensational to read“. . . Oscar Wilde, 1891
Friday August 24th , 1971, 11:58 PM my last night Alone
Saturday August 25th,1971, 7:15 AM I awake with new life
Knowing at 12:00 PM Lenore Adams Becomes my FOREVER WIFE
Until it unfolds; A Dream of Everlasting LOVE not yet known
Saturday, August 25th,1971, 9:00AM, Breakfast with “DAD”
“I see the LOVE in my Daughter’s Eyes :Welcome to our Family “
Saturday, August 25th, 1971, 11:00AM
I showered, trim my beard and got dressed ,Tuxedo? : for my BRIDE
The Captain in his Dress Whites on the on the deck of our “Princess Ride”
For the Eons of Forever, in sickness and in Health, will You be by her side
“ I W I L L “
For the Eternity of LIFE Forever ; Do YOU take LENORE as YOUR BRIDE
“ I D O “
Saturday August 25th, 1971, 7:13PM , My WIFE , My LIFE, My LOVE : Entered Heaven
My Last Entree
Inspired by the Contest “ The Diary “ Sponsored by ~Constance~ A Rambling
POET~~
Written by HGarvey Daniel Esquire
1st Place
A new arrival to the indian cricket squad,
Who later drived every cricket fan mad;
From behind or infront of the stumps,
His hands never failed to make magical bumps!
In at three,four or even seven,
Always gives tough to opponent eleven.
The only man who changed the history of cricket
By making fans to watch till the last wicket!
Accepts failure in front,success at back,
Handled both in the same track.
Either failure or victory,
Always the man making history!
When there's an urge of winning spot,
Never failed to deliver his helicopter shot;
Portrayed and titled as" Mr.Cool"
For handling pressure in the cricket pool!
Lots of struggles and fight,
Made him to raise more bright;
Either in yellow or blue,
Makes the crowd to sit in glue!
Man of more than one-billion emotion,
Transformed cricket with his mastering creation,
Added glory and pride to the Indian nation,
Turned up as a great inspiration!
Started and ended with run-out,
Left us all sensational with no more doubt,
Jersey number seven...
Deserves a remarkable place in cricket heaven!!!
-S.KRITHIGA SREE
Sitting in her wheelchair
Reading a book
She was thin and pale
And occasionally, she'd look
Into space
With whimsical smile
On her once beautiful face.
Her name was Olympia.
Olympia used to dance,
She was sensational
And she put her audience in trance.
She floated onto the stage,
Like a breath of Spring
Her gracefulness and expertise
Made the onlooker's hearts sing
Olympia was well-known,
In theatres everywhere
She topped the bill
And patrons flocked there
Dancing was her life,
She was born to dance
She never married
Although she had the chance
Men pursued Olympia
For both her beauty and talent
She was never smitten by them
That she made apparent.
It was a dream
That she was lucky to fulfil
A life of dancing
Until she becomes too ill
To dance, her life away
She sits in a wheelchair now
And this is where she has to stay
She loves to sit and dream,
Staring into space
With a book on her lap
And a whimsical smile
On her once beautiful face
In My Dappled Dream I Saw You
In my dappled dream I saw you,
Your shimmering ghost, young again,
As we were, when soft flares hid your brown legs,
There, in the warm April shadows, us
Astride an old beach blanket on the grass of Corona.
1971 was sensational when we were 19 years old;
We held each other like lovers afoul in the neutral shade,
And kissed deeply there, as ants found crumbs of cookies,
Laid there by swishing palms in the dishonest sunlight.
Oh lady, it was madness most discrete, indeed,
behind the boyfriend’s back, miles away to the east;
You found new passions in our discretions there,
You delivered moist messages with muted giggles there.
Oh lady, you were wildly untrue to him that day!
Rolling as young leopards at play,
Our lips found its prey with mindless precision,
There, in the afternoon spectacle of leering light,
Of young lovers deliberately cheating,
Tendering desperate embraces in the perfumed shadows.
We kept our silence in the room as we waited for the verdict to be read an innocent man sitting there with a murder hanging over his head, the image of the blood stained sheet is all over the screen and his only alibi is the woman of his dream.
You cannot be in two places before the horse races, there are four rooms in the house and an exit next to the kitchen, there is a basement two layers below and that is where you prepare for the show. You have a studio and a small study and a rack filled with oldies and goodies; sensational music of the past ring loudly in his ears and a library with an experiment table and newly designed module of a gadget sitting on top.
He cannot imagine himself killing anyone and he cannot believe that he have blood stain on his hand, “I don’t even know how to use a gun and if I did I would probably be on the run”, he shouted as he speaks his thoughts aloud. It is the form of confession you hear when death reason with death and passion run through veins spilling anxiety in the air.
We kept our silence in the room as he recalls the story of what happen that day at noon. He said that he was with the woman of his dreams walking on the beach, talking about the future and how they would spend their lives together; they booked a cheap hotel room and had lunch at noon, then made love the entire day.
He went on and on describing the woman of his dreams and never talked about the murdered man on the screen; his story of love was so convincing he mesmerized everyone in the room, and when he said, “my eyes met with hers and when the golden stature flashed across his eyes the interlude began, and they both became one.”
Their eyes and mouths open wide and raw nerves crashing with nerves and for more than five minutes no one spoke; it wasn’t a joke they were caught up in a romantic rapture and silence broke when the judge read the verdict.
“Not guilty “go in peace the Judge said, forcing himself to overcome the love spell. He brought out the entire old document on the case and throws them in the furnace and watched it burnt to ash.
The accused left the courtroom with his woman holding together their mesmerizing passion burning in the stomach. “I am a free man,” he shouted, I am going to travel the whole wide world and make some money telling stories. Not guilty is the title of his first book.
Inwardly consumed at this early hour
Turmoil and confusion
The bad inside growing beginning to tower
Love remaining just an illusion.
The day already starting to sour.
My heart is just another intrusion.
The suns light reviving a flower
While within it simply rains pollution.
The sky turns from black silk to blindingly bright.
Gloom seems irrational.
The mornings breeze has a chilly bite.
As change becomes inevitable.
Sometimes wishing it was always night.
Where a creation can become sensational
Everything must start anew within the morning light.
Except my love which will remain unconditional
A weathered broken heart not shiny and new
Beaten and torn apart
Battle worn black and blue
But still a loving heart
A possession held by so very few
A priceless work of art.
Once you thought love simply grew
Needing only a seed to start
If you had only knew
The art of a heart from the start is it can only love in part.
Until it receives that love back from you.
Elongated dazzling radiance cast abeam
sensational blinding brilliance
thru eyelids cast agleam
buoyed upon soundcloud airstream
entire corporeal complex edifice
rocked upon gently
shimmering weightless as moon beam
metaphorically floats yours truly
autonomic kickstarting process
since... flagellation enabled conception
circulating, distributing, enervating...
dna chromosomal genetic
data packets craft
lifeforce fueled bloodstream
aforementioned haploid gamete
kinetic, microcosmic, and opportunistic
unbridled, likened, and fashioned bream
identity guarding, glorifying,
edifying dynamic counterstream
crème de la crème
deoxyribonucleic electric kool aid
acid time tested testicular cream
erecting scalar, singular, stellar
survival of fittest
legendary, mandatory, and noteworthy
twenty three and me crossbeam
cast adrift amidst
one after another
continuous pleasant daydream
wafting mysteriously current
squarely bobbing (think sponge)
idyllically, harmoniously, haphazardly
and gently flowing downstream
nimbly manifesting lusciously
kneading jubilantly inescapable
heavenly glorifying dream
begetting coruscating prismatic halo
quintessentially orbiting eyebeam
orchestrating laser inducted fleam
painlessly piercing poetic pulsating gleam
analogous to virtual reality occurring
currently within whirled wide
webbed dammed headstream.
Meanwhile along Battle Creek boughs
tooting, trumpeting tussling,
nonetheless resolute triumphant hornbeam
built barque remains intact amidst every inseam.
Lumbering ship of state seaworthy
in league with moost any other galleon
forging full steam ahead
lake any other mainstream
weathering riveting pond during microbeam.
Written: October 28, 2025
I press my palm against your shoulder,
dust-streaked and aged
You unfold before me.
Heat rises from the folds
between the tendon and the tender dough.
I savor a bite of the dough.
reminiscent of the stars I once folded,
now scattered,
akin to lost receipts
in a tempest.
I arrive with my stained skin, as a flyer
marred by hurried typos,
hastily printed
by a restless intern.
Here, I consume you wholly.
A vendor presents grief in palm-sized parcels,
with you wrapped in sensational headlines
That twists the truth.
I swallow every piece of you,
even the mustard staining the captions.
But then the rain begins—my likeness of you blurs,
my ink a wing in flight as a winged creature.
A man in uniform smiles and brushes
the sugar from my scalp
casting it into the tide, a final farewell.