I am now learning
How to write a good haiku
‘Tis my real first poem.
Copyright © December 2023, Hébert Logerie, all rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.
How could Bridget
Watching A midget
On one hand denied a digit
Continue to fidget?
Why would A paranoid,
Last year, with a fibroid,
Often getting her annoyed,
Now turn schizoid?
When do angles become trapezoid
And mind of soundness void?
How, why and when?
For I want Bridget ‘Now’
Taken back to ‘Then’…
Medically, right now?
There was a girl named Bridget
who fell in love with a midget.
They got along fine
'cept at loving time
the best he could do was fidget.
At the dinner table
little Molly announced
she had two new play friends
I was happy to hear
she was interacting
with the children
at her new school
I knew how hard
it could be
being an only child
uprooted and
landing in a new city
Molly was such
a shy little girl
That night
Molly had been tucked in
and should have been asleep
but I heard chatter
and giggling
from her bedroom
I opened her door
that’s when Molly
introduced me
to her new little friends
Smidget Midget and
Puggily Pugsy
AP: Honorable Mention 2021
I dreamed about a midget ninja and I could tell
It looked exactly like me, but liked to give me hell
Every barbell I had
He'd bend it really bad
Never let a mini-me ninja bend your barbell!
It was this little squirrel, running fast in real forest.
The moose isn´t fast in its movements, but has
got time for considerations.Different in size, in nature,
but they still has got respect for each other.
The small shop looks even smaller, when it lies besides
a scyscraper.But the owner to the shop is a happy man,
who´s known for his strong relations, yet despised by the bad one.
Forever he will be a sign to his time, forever standing in the sun.
The Midget walks proudly on the street, facing his challenge.
He´s meeting the Giant this day, on a battlefield of wisdom.
Who will be the winner?, who will put the words, in the right mouths?
The Midget already runs like the squirrel, he has found his trace.
A little thought of wisdom, is raising against the big vanity in time.
The struggle has never been fair, but always been won,
of this wisdom of ages, never buried in the noise.
To make up your own mind, has to be your most important choice.
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.