Days passed by to cross sixty and years ran —-
to cross seventy with full fledged activities as I was to scan -
Eventually had to cross Eighty, what to do !
No alternative, but compelled to live too.
Only dragging dull days , swimming in stagnant pool.
No excitement confronting scary shark but to remain cool.
Not to invite golden goose flapping wings in charismatic charm.
All achievements turned obsolete ! Last bell to ring ending life - term.
I'd love to sit and have a rest,
But I see no one who'd suggest
It seems a bit too much of me
If I would sit here, feeling free
If you were here, I’d be your slave
For freedom’s burden I won’t crave
We could sit down with a smile
Resting our feet just for a while
I’m passing by this bench instead
Of sitting with you head to head
I missed the chance, we blew it all
The only meaning was your call
There’s no alternative I see
If there’s no you, there is no me
So its unconscious where I am
A reminiscence of a man..
Diving deep in the pond of the sub-consciousness
I die every night, you die every night too
This is our way of rejuvenating the body
This may sound crazy, eerily or even spooky,
However, this is absolutely or definitely true
Our body makes a special trip to correct the mess
Which takes place from a certain time to the other
We die every night to pay a visit to another crater.
We die every night, if we're blessed, fortunate or lucky
We return to our natural living state, feeling rested
God in his divine and genial way created us that way
That's a given, we have no alternative; no other way
To change things. Sleep deep tonight, die slowly and lightly
Hoping that we'll wake-up the next hours alive and resuscitated.
Drowning in a slow sleep is a gift, die a little tonight
God will not keep us. This is wonderful; this is out of sight.
Copyright © August 26, 2016 Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.
(“The Longest Journey”, 2020, original encaustic)
Along For The Ride
The older I get the less I seem to know
Or even care
And the more I feel a somewhat detached
Observer.
I’m okay with this
Simply because there is no alternative
Although I’m sure a doctor could give me
Some drug or hormone to change my view.
And being okay with it,
Not resisting or striving for something else,
Allows me to see it all
More clearly.
And to appreciate
That my good old apparitional
Body/mind knows what to do,
And that it is still fun to go along for the ride.
(7/22/25)
the man’s fallacious reasoning could not be shaken
He returned every fact and argument with an alternative fact.
There are no alternative facts, only alternative opinions, she said.
His face changed and he was instantly angry.
She did not waste any more time with him.
Brainwashing for him was obviously complete.
Shocked, as she questioned my manhood !
I told her, “ My eyes are up here.”
Couldn’t understand her attitude .
What she really meant, not clear.
We loved each other, there’s no doubt
displaying all my cards open :
How this awkward feelings to sprout,
I could never imagine even.
I didn't inquired what she had meant !
Couldn't surmised, what went in her mind.
I loved her and not to repent.
But I had to leave her behind.
Failed to analyse her problem,
what happened to her to say so.
What’s the reason to put me blame !
Couldn’t endure as she hit my ego..
Her feelings not to analyse.
My amour not to exhibit.
Actually couldn’t realise,
how could I prove me perfect fit.
Felt helpless, no urge to argue.
What to do ? Absolute no way.
Introspection offered no clue.
No alternative: walked away.
That’s because there is no reason why
Time and tide are going as they go
Yesterday the sun shone in the sky
Now today the clouds are hanging low
That’s because a question falls like leaf
Does not presuppose a real answer
Nonetheless it questions the belief
Stimulates it, like a taste enhancer
So we taste the distance, glowing flair
Of another spring, that takes its toll
On ill-fading winter of despair
To reborn a summer in your soul
That’s because a bud distends and grows
There is no alternative for this
And the road keeps going as it goes
Over the bygone calamities.
Those are crucial moments
When the intensity rises
When you don’t know
If tomorrow dies
Or you rise
I can see myself calling for shelter
I can see myself greeting the new morning
I know we might loose it all
Or win this last battle
I wish, so siege is the only option
Because loosing the fight
Is not solving the problem
I always fantasised about oh so many mornings
About oh so many longings
You might see me as one of many
And we are strong enough to conquer
The hearts of the psychopaths
The hearts of those old people
I am not saying this was foreseen
There simply is no other way
And to renew this world
There is no alternative
Than to paint it all in colourful colours
To see each and every detail
Through the lense of our knowledge
Of our wisdom
Of our hearts
We are far too many
To loose this fight
It is an alternative fact, she says.
Interpretation: It is a lie.
Walter Cronkite would be horrified.
That she used that term on national television.
There are no alternative facts, only facts.
An alternative fact is a lie, a fib, a misinterpretation.
Unfortunately, as long as any station can use the word NEWS
Without checking accuracy or facts, this inane idiocy might continue.
Diving deep in the pond of the sub-consciousness
I die everything night, you die every night too
This is our way of rejuvenating the body
This may sound crazy, eerily or even spooky,
However, this is absolutely or definitely true
Our body makes a special trip to correct the mess
Which takes place from a certain time to the other
We die every night to pay a visit to another crater.
We die every night, if we're blessed, fortunate or lucky
We return to our natural living state, feeling rested
God in his divine and genial way created us that way
That's a given, we have no alternative; no other way
To change things. Sleep deep tonight, die slowly and lightly
Hoping that we'll wake-up the next hours alive and resuscitated.
Drowning in a slow sleep is a gift, die a little tonight
God will not keep us. This is wonderful; this is out of sight.
Hebert Logerie Friday, August 26, 2016
‘ When continuous piercing or pricking turns wound malignant , be desperate to get
operated.’ - Poet.
ABANDONED
I am fed up with some relation,
identifying guilt on their part.
I failed to make any correction.
I ignore and let them just apart.
I tried my best somehow to adjust
giving them several chances.
They are selfish not at all to trust,
only creating nuisances.
I could neither punish nor rectify.
What to do with the person?
I discard as can’t further rely.
No alternative, but to abandon.
When wound of heart turning malignant,
Not to waste time unnecessary.
Not to wait and watch, being patient,
Get rid of your wound by surgery.
Is the feather touch of a fast flying bird eternal?
Does a tinge of tap of a butterfly turn love-journal?
Feelings fluttering like passersby do not come to stay,
Feel it with a pinch of salt and walk away, anyway...!
Though the gentle breeze of the seashore has warmth much to give,
Does it, like a constant companion, come with you to live?
My sentiments are often like my tea cup and my lip,
They have iffy brushing and pressing only when I sip...!
Passion and compassion has abruptly drawn out restraints,
Can't I, when you occupy my private space, have complaints?
If you, in the name of love enter in heart and break it,
Do you think, for your skin deep love I will myself submit...?
Love is love, finally. There is no alternative truth,
Should I, for the sake of your lies trust all that is uncouth?
Bye, bye, my deceiver and dissembler, my hypocrite!
Let us, like the train-tracks , move forward, though not split or slit...!!!
15 June 2023
What's Love Got to Do with It - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: John Anderson
The first visible ray of sunshine
Is snatched from the unyielding sky
Murky waves lurking in a single line
Turns the tide in a significant way.
Hymns are sung to the melody of water
Bedlam with elapsed goals and dreams
The cloak is the tackle of rhyme matter
Repeatedly downrush freely at the seams.
The cliff is painted by the morning light
Also, the stones there are truly talkative
A calamity that was merely sketched right
For ancestor's bones, there's no alternative.
Word conflicts hump my tongue twitch
So I'll never be able to satisfy my hunger
Notably, when one has multiple switches
Blowback with a clap of fury and thunder.
The pen in my grip has me feel like a judge
with no verse left to the whims of chance
If I'm the blaze, no one can hold a grudge
Indeed, I was conceived for a floor dance.
Written: April 28, 2023
Fitted in well the fine role of a marvelous villain,
Soaked in senile hellish wisdom, he knew who to grill in;
He was he, though he had his numerous clone duplicates,
He was the lone master of his horrid hell-hounding fates...!
Like the original Omega, the regulator,
Channelizer of the blood and its nutrition cater;
Power of spawn Omega has no alternative, too,
He could make or mar any marvel, from out of the blue...!
Fighting against the hell was, for him, like eating candy,
He ended many hell powers, though his acts seemed sandy;
Did he decide to invade and conquer the Earth, none knows,
His battles, conquering the planets, like rockets fast goes...!
Striking anyone or anything that stands in his way,
Over the hell, heaven, and earth Omega has his sway;
Spawn, wonder woman, Superman, Batman... all are great tales,
To grow our kids in adventures, these are, yet, rails and trails...!!!
22 April 2023
Spawn Variants Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Robert James Liguori
Rhymes Checked At: Rhyme Zone
Syllables Checked At: Syllable Counter
Energy heats a pen for me and gives chemistry /
There’s no alternative to emit a thermal word filled migration flurry /
My nation bet against the worker bee buzzing up the ante on the monster keeper /
Icy for any eatery’s departure to slip blame onto a customer /
I'll be the infamous cook while you'll be the go get us waitress /
You’re in danger as I’m on point and you’re just pointless /
You can't step to how he spits I’m on unknown planets /
You’re precision just misses compared to my bliss nonetheless I’m fortuitous when I caress where you’d care less /
I'll take your vocals and be the vocalist or take your confidence and turn you to a pessimist off the guest list
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