In my youth I did my time
Doing strict religious discipline
A whole decade dedicated to mindfulness
And right livelihood.
And in the several decades since I’ve done
All that on and off again, from time to time.
But now my discipline is different
It’s the discipline of do-nothing
The wu wei of effortless action
More like mindlessness
Than effortful mindfulness.
What does it involve? Nothing!
Too simple you say,
And that’s the point exactly!
Like a cloud drifting through an open sky
Neither born nor dying
Simply manifesting
Into something
From nothing.
(9/16/26)
And if you have nothing to say
Except what is strictly necessary
What are the points that you may
Be fed up with, so measurelessly
It could be the war you are taxed with
Or the regular fiddling with apps
Are you not a robot, they ask you
You probably are, under wraps
Or maybe it could be the weather
Repeatable orange alerts
A wind that’s too warm for the leather
But cold for the cotton t-shirts
And everything looks plainly evident
Spins like the merry-go-round
You know fairly well what’s been said
You don’t need to echo that sound
May speakers apply to the air
In tireless wondering why
A few withered leaves over there
Drop down the expected reply..
I know Nothing, and I know it well;
and that ensures that my head doesn't swell.
Nothing is nothing to gripe about;
suppressing any desire to shout.
Nothing is the stuff of sleepless nights;
it's like a deer caught in the headlights.
Nothing has no heft or feel to it:
the legacy of a hypocrite.
Nothing, sometimes, is all you have left;
loss of innocence is a slow theft.
Nothing isn't easily washed away;
even by the tears wept every day.
Nothing is frightening to confront;
like an empty gesture, or affront.
Nothing can obscure your path to love;
it forces your heart to rise above.
There is nothing eternal.
Therefore, we cannot be bound.
Yet, look upon reality!
With bound iron chains
Shouldered upon our backs,
We begin an invisible war.
"We win, and sometimes we fall."
There is something eternal.
Therefore, we are bound.
"In the name of family,"
With fused iron chains
Locked tightly against my chest,
In your name and mine,
We plant our flag upon this earth!
Splitting
Nothing is
A task for
A word
To make sense
Of it all..
More words
Assist on a
Task without end..
This Limerick contains no dirt or smut
No pontification of breasts or butt
Just tryin' to keep it clean
Nothing bawdy ~ quite pristine
No flaccid male parts, not one jiggly nut
What a way to begin the week,
A crystal blue sky reflected in a Mediterranean sea.
A Thousand Kisses Deep by Leonard Cohen,
The melody that is, not the words
Waft out from the speaker
Of the beach front hotel
In Port de Pollenca, Mallorca.
I'm biding my time, gazing onto the calm
With, coffee and treat.
There's nothing blue about this Monday
An unexpected moment of,
Bliss and solitude
Takes hold
Where everything is perfect
In a sometimes, imperfect world.
The trumpet players lips caress the melody
of; A Thousand Kisses Deep.
Sending out its waves onto a
Blue Mediterranean bay.
Then a text bleeps,
'Leaving in five.'
I arise, take up my bike and walk
In step and on the right note
For the day ahead.
Unfortunately, the Haitian people have everything to lose
They are very fragile, humiliated, vilified, and abused
My people have been suffering for years, for centuries
On the pavement, in the streets, in the harbor and on the high seas.
Our people, our brothers and sisters!
Their wicked leaders once in power, the liars
Change all plans to the detriment of the poor
Who are quickly forgotten in the filthy cans
Their spleen, sweat and blood flow are floating in the sewers
They are despised by hens,
By guinea fowls, by roosters, and all types of demons
It was yesterday that they were applauding like dummies,
Cheering, hoping to be awarded with crumbs and pennies.
These zealous brothers are on fire, they are now deaf and crazy
at the end. Even patience has borders and boundaries
Where greedy, covetous and corrupt officials behave like evil yeasts.
Copyright © January 23, 2016 Logerie Hébert, All Rights Reserved
Hebert Logerie is the author of several collections of poetry.
—For What Could Not Die—
They say true love outlives the reach of death;
then why make war when we must say goodbye?
If wrath can keep thy shadow warm with breath,
why forge another bond before we die?
Thou lift thine eyes into the vacant blue,
as though some hidden dweller waits for you;
and sleep withdraws when evening seals the night,
as if one absent face withholds the light.
I ask the men who trade in roads and bread;
they name each street, yet cannot name thy trace.
The world wakes on; I hear its iron tread,
yet every road goes empty in thy place.
That primal word—Be—called the dark to flame;
thou mayst unmake my world, not what became.
Violently delicious
You play with my mind
Looking for logic i can't swim against time
Am I marked to be doomed
Am I cursed or worse already dead
I can't help to think
But thats when Iam at my worst
Its just the way we play your cards
When I think I have a chance
It all breaks down
Its a sweet party just like you Let me dance the hood of my car
Let me scream and shout
Ill wait for this time and space
Iam a lucky man
But so God damn.unlucky
Is it just all mankind
What happened in the last 5 years
What happened to luck, posterity,sucess
Do I shout out.. hey you !
Stop this merry go round
It ain't merry I quit booze
I quit weed, I quit living for the future
How can you be so proud
Just take a look at this town
If you got a better name
You better use it
If someone can stop this spiral
We better do it
Car gone, home gone,
Job gone, reputation gone
LOVE brought me to nothing
Feelings in check, mouth muzzled
Actions slow and sure
LOVE brought me nada
Spiritual warfare raging
Attacks constant, unknown secured
LOVE brought me...null
In the losing, I gained
Intangible gifts
Experienced, but not gauged
In the losing, I learned
Holding until safe
Released, but not tracked
In the losing, I expanded
Occupying territory
Acknowledged, but not possessed
...balance in operation
Written by Trudy Schrader on 08-22-2026
in the scheme of things
I will shiver under AC
while sweating late at night
Dreams are nice
when you never chase things
that turn around
and chase you
I’m too tired
to stretch my letters into
CAPITALS
Holy nutrient-depleted soil, Batman
There’s nothing in our garden
From the skies, no rain, no clouds
We must seek Nature’s pardon
What did we do wrong, Batman
What did we do right, Robin
It seems we’ve worn out land and sea
from lowest depth to highest tree
Malaise over cribbage,
Unmade in our image;
While they ravage the earth:
Pestilence First!
The cowards save pride,
Just along for the ride;
And the prophets, they shrug.
Must be '---' tall for a hug.
A mechanical theme.
Set to writhe and teem
Astride strained ambition -
An inherent condition!
And the sole consolation?
The starved man gnaws bacon,
As he snarls at the pork;
Pokes the end of his fork.
Steely disposition.
Love's prohibition.
Swole at the seam,
This American dream.
Nothing happens - it’s good news
In the current Belle Epoque
One more day to be cut loose
Lost in walk and talk
Weather murmurs to be fine
Skies of postcard blue
With the white stripes are designed
Only there’s no you
And no me, apparently
Other people come and go
They are curious to see
The habitual summer show
Narrow passages and lanes
Lead them to the shore
Cause tomorrow there’ll be rains
And gale winds, for sure..
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