quick as a molten drop of wax
running down a dying candle,
a single drop of salty tear
left her sunken eyes' boundary
making its way downwards and fell
without a sound, crashing in bits,
like pulverized shards of glassware.
no one heard her soul's silent scream!
Alone in a crowd, together
with you, can be awfully good.
I am a cheerful pessimist
and so clearly misunderstood.
Eloquent silence, no dull roar
and some festive tranquility;
you are my magic realism-
my comfortable misery.
ALONE IN A CROWD
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
she’s alone in the bustling crowd~
around her, river of faces,
a current of hurried footsteps,
briefcases bumping, hushed goodbyes
archipelago of motion
no one notices her quietness~
train arrives, and she steps forward
departure’s anonymity
The politicians speak and act out in pure oxymoron.
By that I mean say one thing or promise one thing and do a next or the opposite. Some friends also do.
With warm cruelty and in a very nice and seemingly gentle sinister pretentious intentions.
Pure bare cold sweetly favoured and spicy nothings.....nothingnesses,
They promise you a great and propserous year.
But then they do absolutely nothing to improve your life in the slightest.
There is such a cold malignant mliciousness in the kindly promises.
The sweetest and most polished and sincerest sounding Bull you can ever imagine.
Trust them at your own damn risk, to your relaxed sleepy opium filled detriment.
Almost seems like all of them are the same.
No distinct difference.
As the Guyanese say maybe the only good one is dead.
Meaning that good comes with their bad death.
Don't get me wrong though, there have been and always will be a few really good and sincere ones Like my friend Dugu Gordon.
But most of them just live a disgusting honey money lie......they drown in a dirty legacy cesspool of rich bitter sweet mango jam irony and useless unnecessary excess wealth.
I think I am an oxymoron
quite different but the same.
Understanding less is more
Subdued, yet can’t be tamed.
I’ll split in two while being whole
ditzy and still brainy.
Make many plans without a goal
be sad while being zany,
Have champagne taste with beery purse
find ugly very pretty.
Feel really blessed that I’m so cursed
quite stupid when I’m witty.
You see, there’s more than one of me
sometimes I’m up when down.
Politely rude when wrong but right
Show then a smiling frown.
Clearly confused, I know I am
more forward than behind.
Get close to you while staying free
be stingy when I’m kind.
Loud silence lets me contemplate
and dream when I’m awake.
To keep in front, I must backdate
my words, just give or take.
When my batteries run low
My cogs screech, the spinners
And my eyes grow dimmer
And I'm walking numb
When my batteries run low
Their double A selves
Marked with gold and black positives
Or silvery white negatives
A living ying and yang
For the future, past, and present
When my batteries run low
The water evaporates me
And overwhelms me dearly
And I'm living numb
When my batteries die low
Death, death, Oh! Old Death
Old death makes everybody dry and sad
Death even makes kings who are grumpy and mad
Absolutely powerless, helpless and useless
Death makes us mute, motionless, lifeless and deaf
In the darkest, hottest part of the crater
And deep within the brightest cell or cache of the chamber
Where too much light
Blinds the retinas and this is never right
Death makes everybody lifeless, powerless and useless
Death, death! Nobody can get used to you
Death, death! You are a fool too
For stealing life which is vitally precious
Death, death! You are backward and too ambitious
Nobody can get used to your ways
Because you make us part ways
Old death! You never show compassion and pity
You are wicked, greedy, sick and crazy
Old death, will you leave us alone?
Please use a different style and tone
Death, death, Oh! Old Death
Old death, you make everybody weak and mad
Old death, you make us worthless, lifeless and sad
Death, death, old death, please go away
Go, go away, please go, go find your way.
Copyright © April 25, 2025 Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.
A prolonged loud silence
Shattering my belief
Baffling my spirit
Summoning an inevitable end
Of what we had between us
Shunning my existence
Severing the bond that tied us
The heart lies bruised by the callous attitude
And distance grows further between us
Nothing it seems stays forever.
Honest salesman is a semi-oxymoron
Just like an honest politician
Please do not laugh, all lawyers or
Accountants are not crooks. When the door
Is wide open a mouse, a rat, a cockroach
Would me more than happy to approach
Some politicians have tried to be better
And more credible. Some are men/women of honor
However, others are pathological liars
They are professionals who behave like traitors
They think that the "truth is not the truth". They're confused
Lies are lies. Dogs are dogs. Politicians play politics
Call the exterminators to annihilate the ticks
Liars always ignore the truth. Please, let's not mused
In politics, it is probably not easy to be too honest
Because so much is involved. Let's chase the pests
The corrupt politicians who are ruining everything
And destroying the dream. Let them flee. Let's ring
The bells. Not all politicians are crooked or criminals
That's true. I am not lying, just check the election polls.
Copyright © November 2018, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.
treetops smoldering
smoke encircling bird’s flight
blinding sight with glee
Inherently people are prone to pry
Wherever there is more than meets the eye.
Black and white, by patent definition,
Dazzle in latent opposition.
Byproduct of a shady interplay -
Panoply of 50 hues of grey.
The contrast between black and white
Is not as trite as day and night.
In former days they harmonised
On the big screen before our eyes.
Beware of black, beware of white -
Clandestine colours out of sight.
I met a little Sophia recently in a Masjid.
By the by I met the grandmother, traveling from "Normal."
I had to travel on a cold day for a hot topic, she was hinting...
And I learned the word, "love child" and beyond!
Once not lovable, it can reach up to stage four.
for pancreas, lungs. kidney and many other organs
if they are not specially "misfit" in this fitting world!
"My son, he read and decided about the religion, deeply."
She said, or I think she said so,
And I also think I knew the other Sophia, too!
Every march 25th, she is a true reminder for me!
She was a minor, but her father was a felon!
Exactly as the same way of Zapruder!
Anthony Mascarenhas and Henry Kissinger, these are strangers too!
They never knew housekeeping before their occupation do!
But one was a U-HAUL, OTHER was a chore.
Which one to which chestnut
must be a president's choir!
Crowded,
Yet lonely,
Not alone,
But outcast,
Satisfied,
Yet hungry,
For the things,
I will never have,
Disciplined,
Yet rebellious,
Eager to be free,
Someday,
Dedicated,
Yet impatient,
Might just snap
Any second now,
agitated mime
did you miss the exodus
cave biology
Leftover Tomorrows
Not just the yin and yang of life
Not just the perplexed and entangled
Not even the esoterically amplified deviations
Just the oxymoron nature of the beast
It’s the fashion of ascending and escaping
Of falling into the voids of the heart
When love transcends into emptiness
Our minds form designs to abstract
To gain wisdom teased from agony
From wakeful weaving of earthly plights
A roller coaster of leftover tomorrows
Inverse our perception of dancing tonight
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