with my family,
my soft heart tenderly beats.
tough outside my home;
my mind focuses on things
nostalgic when I'm alone.
Be the flowers that can heal -
A heart of charity never to seal.
Be the moon in the lonely night -
A dark cave looking bright.
Be the sky blue, lucid and clear -
A sea filled with love, a pure lover.
Be the sun that can burn all instant,
But inside nodding a tiny plant.
Be the star gleaming far to door -
Can draw the way a parted sailor.
Be the words of birds twittering -
Promise the cures to bring.
Be the cadence of a lyre -
Can feel the divinity far and near.
Be the morning still, and profound
Begins a day festive and sound.
Be the listener to your heart -
As no distinction between God and art.
Life is one big multiple choice game it's in our hands how we answer life's questions
Multiple people are following a new trend
regarding which I see no sign of an end.
I seek reasons but haven't found any
why people these days avoid saying 'many,'
jnstead of which they prefer to say 'multiple,'
a fault of which I'm personally not culpable.
So let me affirm old usage once more
just as I've done multiple times before.
Oh dear me! What a terrible slip.
Happy are they who have mastered the lip.
How is it that I know your eyes?
That I understand
the language
of your spirit?
Yet
We are discovering each other
in this moment
for the first time.
Within how many lifetimes
have we met?
What is the number counted
for how often
our hands
have reached to dance?
Hands of strangers
upon first meeting
however known
across the expanse
of incarnations – once touched.
Lips that speak
of silent forever’s
adrift together
among the seasons.
A knowing
beyond names ever spoken
save the two that reside
in each others hearts.
You are the desert flower
I am the rain
fallen
upon scorched ground
in search of yearning pedals
that I may be
consumed.
~
It is the rain
that drinks of the flower
absorbed
in its radiant beauty.
The prize (Catholic School only)
The statue of some little known saint.
The contest
1. Guess how many jelly beans are in the jar.
A) 2,865
B) 326 red ones
C) All of them
2. Kindergarten
The question
How much is 2 plus 2?
A)17
B) 4
C) You mean you don’t know
3. Sharing
Who ate all the pudding?
A) Billie
B) The dog
C) The kid with chocolate all over his face
4. Why won’t this become POTD?
A) Because it’s not a poem
B) Because no one faved it
C) Because teacher didn’t like it
©1/28/2023
The Multiple Choice Poem Poetry Contest
Love is a dream that begins
Love is a chimera that begins
It’s a ballerina who dances
It’s a poet who thinks
It's a bird that sings
It's the freshness of mints
It's the lie of the ancestors
It's the gossip thing
That's all we see
That's all we hear
It's the old man who lies bitterly
It's the shadow we stumble upon
It's the pretty or the ugly woman
It’s the existence of the soul
It's our sad imagination
It's our painful inspiration
It's the farewell of lovers
It’s the escape of a charming being
It's the death of emotions
It's the end of the passions
Love is a dream that never ends
Love is a nightmare that never ends
We don't know what else to say
While crossing or crisscrossing the ages
And by stepping or jumping over the clouds.
P.S. Translation of ‘Les Multiples Facettes De L’Amour’
by Hébert Logerie.
Copyright © June 2022, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poetry.
A.Apology not accepted
B.BC maray ga
C.Chemical Again
D.Death Soon
E.Exit Not Available
F.Final Round
G.Goli Goli Goli..
Please Advise:
If the Universe posted a submission of my poem six times today ( yours yesterday. Or tmorrow) how best to remedy this situation? Nothing is damaged if two CLiCKS posted the same poem ( on 7 the Jan 2022) multiple times, or is there?
The important point for me is "Do I lose the names or clicks of those on the copies I delete from PS?" There are perhaps 5 copies totalling 48 clucks, the one leading with 17 clucks at this hour. Thanx so much. Shalom shalom (The Universe waves Hi to you: Happy 2022)
Want to see you
I
you whom are in the first person
Caught up in a trinity
Not knowing who you
I want to be
You have discussions with yourself
I manipulating the winds
You're survival your well-being
You shall not make it that you take it
I am willed to you I am me instilled
I
Want to see you
10/6/21
Written by James Edward Lee Sr © 2021
The silk-screenish Andy Wahol
had depersonalised depictons as a goal
Look closer within & you will see
abstracted images in much variety
Like a silent graveyard
Past that boulevard
Lies a silent graveyard,
Where this skin retard
And miseries within ungird.
I am now silent as that graveyard,
Pieces of mine,here,I safeguard
In this silence so subtle and hard,
Pain and sufferings have got unbarred.
Multiple emotions I learned ,
Some are still unheard,
In this silence all evaded
Like a caged bird set freed.
I’m here like a bygone body ,
In this graveyard ,so holy,
Abducted by the earned felicity
Not even this flesh remained lastly.
Caring for multiple kitties,
requires a lot of air freshener Febreze,
in amounts dropped like those fire fighting flying machines.
Once knew this guy from Paris, France
Had a bunch of holes in his dirty old pants
They showed his treasure
Many inches it measured
Heard that he had multiple transplants
My true nature, I’m told, I must seek.
I’ve been daft, I’ve been bold, I’ve been meek.
I’ve been angry and slow.
I’ve been high; I’ve been low.
So my "self-seeking" prospects are bleak.
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