Preaches Poems | Examples

Insecurity

Instead of monsters under my bed 
- they stare at my face in the mirror 

At what point does a child become the direct descendant of a wound breed from insecurity.  

A world that preaches love is this almighty being that comes to everybody. 

The same world that writes the script for a judging mind yet screams to erase.

But what if I’m different?
Easy to like, but only under certain conditions. 

But what if it’s me?
Easy to want, but hard to hold. 


For who decides these monsters for me? 

Why does it feel as if I’m choosing the monsters that crawl under my bed?

I don’t want them!



But I suppose you can never tell where the monsters will hide.

The Preacher

He preaches with a heavy hand
laid upon the Word of God.
No need to be seated on a throne.
He’s at eye level with his congregants.

if he avoided their gaze, as if
his eyes shielded the sun,
and blathered on, as if nobody cared,
then they could let their eyes roll and yawn.

Firmly, he holds up that Word of old,
for this preacher cares, oh he cares
so deeply for their souls, so deeply
he will divide the wheat from the chaff.

Wings of the Word

Dedicated to Loretta 

whispering winds wax
full grace moon steams with prayers 
souls wane to rebirth 

circular sight sings
her breath beams with angel wings
soul note city skies

earth eyes emotions 
stars eclipse and release peace
divine chimes Saint seas

earth angel gardens 
preaches...teaches and reaches
trust eternity 

guardian guitars
musical dreams layer love
echoes of Jesus 

April 6th 2025

Why

A virtuous man stands tall, far ahead, 
Preaches mercy, yet calls heretics dead, 
Speaks of hell, if he had seen, 
Prescribes salvation and condemns unclean, 
He sings of heaven till his last breath, 
Then why, priest do you fear that death?

An infidel knows no rules, the trouble begins,
How can a priest keep him from sins?
Does this make him boundless, free to appease? 
Or does the priest sin more than he dares to please?

Yestouurdaned

Speak ye undesired person of
Unscrupulous need

She spoke....
As ye hast desired from a far
Might this togetherness
Make reason to adore me.
I speak in third person
Oh desirest of love
The nights of tendered
Mercies. Where we couple
And desires are.
Lover in night to look 
Upon me in candlelite
Dwellingsspeak me as
Yours in all that is
Telling.
To those I fake in a calm
Sense of need.
That one's ego swells with
One's desire of me
Might I love you in Eden
To be pregnant in Rome
In famine where hunger
 preaches to me
Have me as they own
Then in drought to
Which temperature swell
Might I love adorned
 and satisfied
As we refute hell
Together as one
They rod devine
Sweet tender thoughts
Of  you as mine
Even in doubt
May begin
To champion you
From love
My lover and friend
Echo tommorrow
They canyon deep
Our promises
Our sacred keep
Marriage as one
Us together
In times of doubt
It's us forever!

I Saw a Storm of Ice and Stone

I saw a storm of Ice and Stone,
Curling North the footed hill;
From which grows the cold and bone,
Beholden to whom the beggars kill.

The ashen clouds above the alabaster-
A sieve to the dense and wet-
Hurls itself upon a pastor
Who preaches that which isn't yet. 

I saw a wyrm, or an armless slither,
Bubble from the preacher's mouth.
It curled in smoke into the weather
Which had boiled to the South.

Lest the East of orchid hue,
Eclipsed by this tempest's crest.
In neon strips, atramentous blue;
I waited, watching, in the West.

The spin of stone and thick of ice,
Had eyes for that beneath its gale.
It at last approached, to name its price,
And returned my gaze with orbs of scale.

Their pupil slits,
Bright stalactites,
Hung in sable ink of iris;
Claimed my sight, without a fight,
Traded for words scrawled on blood papyrus.

I am not a preacher

I am not a preacher!
I am not a preacher 
Who preaches love and kindness
But when my pen and paper collide
They leave no stone unturned
And no life unchanged.

I am not a doctor 
With a stethoscope dangling in the neck
But when words runs through my fingertips
They mend broken hearts 
And heal wounded souls.

I am not a sergeant 
With a badge of dazzling stars
I am not a soldier
With a precarious weapon on the shoulder
But a pen that scribes in bold
Let there be peace

I am not a pilot 
But let the young men and women
Be inspired to fly high
For the only limit is the sky

I am not a preacher,
I say l am not a preacher
But l shall speak to the discourteous world
The ethos of life.

Sunny Sunday Statistic

In the United States, 
152 serial killers 
are responsible
for 12,746 deaths
was not the first thing 
I wanted to read 
this sunny 
Sunday morning,
but the news feed 
had other ideas
and teaches how easy
it is for life to fall
to pieces~
it ever preaches
how a human hyena 
searches for prey,
and no speeches 
how we should pray!

The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked: who can know it?  I the LORD search the heart, I try the reins, even to give every man according to his ways, and according to the fruit of his doings. ~Jeremiah 17:9-10 KJV

The Song Of A Poet

It is a poet who sings
It's a writer who tells
His stories.

It is an author who expresses himself
He is a speaker of the highest esteems
Who review the sad memoirs.

He is a brave man who externalizes himself
It is a poet who analyzes
Actions, fictions and facts.

It's a brother who fights
It's a soldier in the middle of a proxy war
Who preaches harmony, love and peace.

Copyright © May 2019, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poetry.

Haters' Degrees

Master of Hate (conferred for general practice) 
Master of Bigotic Hate (conferred for narrow-minded reasons like religious or political belief)
Master of Occupational Hate (conferred for haters for money or other favors in return or as a job or profession) 
Master of Ignorant Hate (conferred for haters with reasons they cannot understand like they don't even know the person) 
Master of Innocent Hate (conferred for children used to hate) 
Master of Unjust Hate (conferred on haters for no reason or shallow reason)
Master of Divinistic Hate (conferred for haters who went to Bible School) 
Doctor of Divinistic Hate (conferred for haters who went to bible school and also preaches the bible) 
Bachelor of Hate (major in politics) 
Bachelor of Hate (major in religion) 
Bachelor of Hate (major in gossip) 


Just for fun

Time, Memory and the Night

What time claims for itself,
Memories placed on the shelf,
Memories of the lost,
And the reckoning cost.

As life’s journey unfolds,
It takes away and remoulds,
Some things are hidden in the chamber,
It stays with us until our final slumber.

Time teaches,
Like a voice that preaches,
As the day departs and the night arrives,
Courage inadvertently thrives.

Looking through life’s windows,
Some things are veiled in the shadows,
Some are revealed before we ease into the night,
Where nothing is kept from the light.


January I, 2024.

Jesus, The Christ

He weeps and
prays like humans.
He SAVES like God.

He HEALS like God.
He sleeps and hungers
like humans.

He teaches
and preaches like humans.
He FORGIVES like God.

He pays taxes like humans.
He RESURRECTS and WALKS
ON WATER like God.

He CLEANSES LEPERS,
CASTS OUT DEMONS,
and FEEDS THOUSANDS like God.

He BLESSES CHILDRENS and
UNSTOPS DEAF EARS like God.
Jesus, The Christ, was born
in a stable like animals.

112423PS

WAR

A senseless act of thugery
Murdering the world's military
War is a crime to humanity
Where no one is free

Religion preaches forgiveness
But devides the masses
Religion preaches peace
While killing to the extreme 

We fight over Race
The colour of our face
Shread our skin to see
We're all the same beneath

Who owns the land
Where we all stand
The ground we save
That neighbour's invade

Children raised to hate
Sealing their untimely fate
What they need to see
Teach them to live free

What we all need
Is a life of total peace
What we all adore
Is an end to all war

The Potd Critic

The Poetry Critic

We have ourselves a critic on poem of the day
Like being a good parent, it’s not quite his forte
I think what we’re seeing is a little Vulcan blood
His words are illogical and they drag through the mud

Some call him a king as they walk hand in hand
They should start reading the lyrics of his little boy band
He preaches forgiveness but falls a bit short
All I keep hearing is his cutting retort

Charlottes Web

With animosity I endure each pain
Read each word as they describe disdain
Do not compare or look for blame
Distill yet comforts release the gain 
The outer world always preaches 
while villains they reign like leaches
Do not give solace or even fame
Realize the love that comes from your name
Though long placed aside inside it stayed
Though only through words love was made

I recognize my loss by absence named
Yet I returned remembering our game
Time has past and it’s my still my move
I pause to think how to enter the groove
I cannot blame cold shoulders for my desertion
I still after time I held on to my devotion
And try to caress with words that charm
I try to take away the alerts and harm
And reach for times to reminisce 
Use you as the tool my Muse gives bliss

You replace the widowers loss
As well as take place 
of the Ex’s I’ve crossed 
But in this outer world you remain
At least I hope that to regain
I don’t know what we are
Yet I know not insane
I could be your doll you be my game
And still resolve our lonely pain
While being one another's eternal flame

• Short Preaches Poems
• Famous Preaches Poems
• Best Preaches Poems
• Read Preaches Poems
• Long Preaches Poems
• Preaches Quotes