Wry grin from bookshelf,
dark tome teethers in shadow,
bookmarked for downfall!
tarnished page a fright,
dull wobbly watermark smudge,
reeks of distant stain!
if I ever write a novel
I hope I write a great one
controversial
that inspires rapid conversation
I hope it gets banned
making me an outlaw for life
Can We Really Change
The Future, We Can???
Well, Here You Go!
Uh-oh... Divergence
From The Norm...
You Are Your Own
Enermy- Karmic Assault!
Like Cannon Balls
Bouncing... Follow
The Bouncing Bowling
Balls... Kerplunk!
Why Would You Leave
Me (So Silly) With
Such Dangerous
Toys?
*Snap.* Snap-Snap^ Snappity-Snaaap*
Oh, You're Gonna Be Surrrrprised...
-Gray Squirrel
03-29-2026
In quaint quiet shadows,
a flame might flicker,
silken wisp on sight,
night channel wave,
I tap into,
as shrouded ghost,
my vocal template,
dark green leaf cast,
I cagily address,
eerie script nocturnal,
theatre of silence,
begging to erupt,
dim lit street platform,
poignant palette pointer,
fantasy in bloom,
blind seed dispersal,
for furtive audience,
spurred and spurned by,
my whispered rally,
nebulous or novel,
stark wooden benches,
empty chair syndrome,
context, conjure, cater,
traffic lights hue’d symbol,
clueless plots on queue
Shabby chic was her decor.
She thrived in that old nostalgic aura.
Catered to her prolific muse.
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: Honorable Mention 2026
Harry Potter owned an otter
He took it out to play
The otter donned his darkest shades
He’d been in the casino all day
The otter silent, Harry said
‘What’s the matter?’
No reply ever came ~
Seems the poor otter was slaughtered
book
novel
story line
six characters
interesting plot
authors delight
dialogues
fiction
book
It would be bedtime, and I’d rise
Risking the possibility of chastisement
By the mother who taught me, with her smiles
That my reading Nancy Drew, Trixie Belden
Every book in each collection – the Hardy Boys too
Wasn’t just a trait passed down to me, to her pleasure
It was a trait she, herself, had spread – a disease
If not verbally, then with each moment she’d spent
Turning pages, lingering amid chapters of inspired
Dreams and imaginations, wanderings
I’d come to accept as my heart’s blessing
And I’d rise, with the intent of going to my room
Where I’d keep a light beneath the quilts,
Consuming the words with a heart full of wonder,
A heart who would always see my own smiles
Reflected on pages filled with castles I’d hoped to build
Myself, and forts that found their way into my wishes
Mine is a heart filled with worlds that were not my own,
beneath the shadows of a warm quilt and sheets
who remember me… as that girl who found her home amid words
not new nor novel no more
See some sights, see some more
But now I am standing at my door
The room the same as before
not new nor novel no more
Still, I can't be bothered to make a change
Yet I'm longing to turn the page
standing still at center stage
not new nor novel no more
But I could change the game
If I could only bother to
But it's the same as it was
not new nor novel
Lover of novels
Always immersed mind full of
Imagination.
Her past is murky
Filled with secrets and falsehoods
She speaks of it naught
She is a mystery novel
Whose pages are glued shut
my love life is like a plot in a grand novel,
where dawn stands tall,
yet dusk must kneel
and grovel.
each chapter of it dims as twilight nears,
unleashing darkness that feeds on
the carcass of
waning years.
yet expectation remains high...
waiting for another page
to turn and turn
until old age.
meanwhile, the plot keeps thickening...
bringing to life
more of the fears
in a world full of strife.
yet love keeps its shine in the distance,
like a mirage that gleams in space,
offering false satiation,
only to fade into non-existence.
but the story will never end...
until the Author of all things
chooses to write an epilogue
of how much of his love we all depend.
boy meets girl,passions kiss,dynasty
FORM: NOVEL in 6 words
A new day
Comes every day
With a morning, a noon
An afternoon and an evening
It's day and it's night
Across the countryside.
The first day of the year
Is as special as the last
Man creates days of feast
To distinguish himself from the beast
That says that all days are the same
Like the wind that dances and sows.
There is a beginning
To smile and laugh
And an end of time
To cry and die
The animals are right
A new season does not matter.
A new year, a new day
A new week, a new month
A new night, a new noon
A new sun, a new moon.
Copyright © January 2021, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.
With ten thousand places to go
And it won't cost me a dime,
Just to walk a block or so ...
Takes a few minutes of my time
And it won't cost me a dime
To borrow one library book,
Takes a few minutes of my time
To browse around and look ...
To borrow one library book
Is to open up a great door,
To browse around and look ...
At a place never known before
Is to open up a great door
A thing that I dare to do ...
At a place never known before
Then, o, to walk on through
A thing that I dare to do ...
And need to, o, so badly,
Then, o, to walk on through
And disappear ever madly
And need to, o, so badly
Just to walk a block or so ...
And disappear ever madly
With ten thousand places to go.
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