Resuscitated Poems

We Pass out Every Night

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.

DEFEAT ON CRETE

DEFEAT ON CRETE

A folktale from which we have been recreated
Remember that fight I’m quite sure you hated
For this rematch, many centuries I have waited
So keen and strong, now I’ve been resuscitated
But this time I’ll win, as many anticipated

Such an encounter set Greek history ablaze
But this second time extends into future days
I may even emerge blinking, in the sun’s rays
And your dead body left to rot in the maze
Then back to Pasiphae, a hybrid family to raise

So Theseus, for you I have a surprise in store
As you’ll no longer follow that thread, I’m sure
This time, it is me reborn, to settle the score
From the labyrinth, where we once met before
Behold, I’m back, it’s me, the Minotaur!

No Tariffs, Fair Trade Best

Despite the fear mongering
(phony news) (Socialist Blues)
American's economy is doing
well – not, in a hand-basket,
going to hell.  Today's new
jobs report, 228,000 created,
America being resuscitated -- 

(Sorry for tariffs, no other choice)
(Capitalist’s again have an enterprising
sane voice)
(Despite Socialist Boos, by adopting 
Free-trade World Economies will all
prosper~ and not lose!)

Those corrupt closer to home, 
The little man is no-longer your
manipulated cash-cow – we had
sense of being ripped off~ Musk,
is only showing us, by who and
how.

Lizard Heaven

The love in which
Something so freshly killed,
Could be so freshly buried.

Taken care of, comforted
Dry skin, resuscitated
Oozing life out of your tiny nose

Even the largest of dewdrops will not save you now
For you are small

Even the warmest of suns will not save you now
For you are less

Even the biggest of hearts will not save you now
For yours is not beating

Maybe somewhere 
You are able to say thank you


The red-iron dirt is saying thank you.

Tomorrow

Far off, it has begun to walk the planet,
first it must be buried in a nearby field,
while flights of dreams migrate
from unrealistic expectations.

Meanwhile,
worms' imperceptivity reshape reality.
Fresh perceptions
bloom like cherry trees in Death Valley
neglected vineyards are resuscitated
one vine at a time.

Tomorrow will show up darkly,
it may forestall or bolster,
we may only know for sure
when the roof of the sky is raised,
even so, night still roams somewhere
weeding out exhausted stems of light.

It is just diurnal time
dipping in and out of our eyes,
it’s only the ever displaced and ever prodigal
exchanging old and new testaments of hope
upon a circular racetrack,
one not at all of our making.

A Stomped On Heart

My whole nervous systems fried
There's a day I haven't cried
From the feelings I've bounced
all around--it's like you pounced
On a heart you suffocated
That can't be resuscitated
My life force is being drained
And your footprint is engrained
With tread marks of certain doom
You didn't leave me any room 
To catch any of my breath
My hearts being squished to death
Along with the love I gave
Now its all just in the grave
You buried my love away
Stomping on it till the day 
I no longer live any more
You hated me down to the core
From the start I don't know why
All these years was just a lie

We Die Every Night

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

As We Traverse the Landscapes

Like travellers, 
We cross this arid land
Aiming at the city of rest.

As we traverse the landscapes 
We may, of a truth, sully our feet
With besetting dust of sin

But we must from time to time
Remember Calvary, the place of cleansing 
Where mercy flows immeasurably 

We go through marketplaces 
Let’s be pleased with divine supplies 
Lest we are tangled with vanities of life 

We faint many a time 
But we are resuscitated; we move on
We despair not. 

We shall win!
We are soldiers in the warfare
Let’s fight, holding onto the cross

Silver-Lining

SILVER-LINING

Cheated life occasionally yet it couldn't play even. 
In life's sequel, I'm swivelled into a deep sweven.

Where's conventionality in a cosmos that's so odd? 
Everyone that ever rocked my world
I've dexterously dovetailed into words;
Lyric, ballad, elegy or love sonnet occupies 2-thirds. 

Every single trusted love I've ever lost
and that ignorance had collaborated with lust, 
I've resuscitated in verse, stanzas & enjambment;
And ameliorated into memory or emotional strength. 
Bathed in past disconsolation and the aftermath, 
I've never & will never remain on the same wavelength. 

Vick Manuel Poetry {VMP} 
Form: Rondeau Prime. 
Copyright© December2022.

Following the Beat of the Drum

Tammy lived a reckless and careless life.
She answered to no one, lived by her own
rules.
Tammy has been on her own ever since
she could remember.
The streets were her home; she lived the
street life.
The average person didn't mess with her; 
because she had a bad reputation.
Being the girlfriend of a notorious gang 
leader had its ups and downs.
Rival girlfriends of other gang leaders 
would constantly pick fights with her.
On a night near a desolate alley Tammy 
got caught slippin.
She was walking by herself; she didn't even 
have any protection.
The rival gang saw her and beat her senseless.
They left her for dead, a homeless dude found
her and ran to get help.
By the time the ambulance found her, she had 
lost a lot of blood and had a faint pulse.
They rushed her to the hospital, she flatlined, 
but they resuscitated her. However, it was touch
and go….. … they didn’t know if she would live 
or die… her life hung in the balance, and it 
was touch and go.


*caught slippin
to be caught off guard, in a very bad way.



Contest: This Or That
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
04-09-2021

The Untitled Diary Entry

I often wake up in the middle of the night,
With a ghost of you just sitting there,
In front of me, muffled, restless, yet still.
I often find myself, writing your name and
Reading it, over and over until that name is 
Resuscitated to life and call me out. 
I often find myself loving the things you
 used to,  eating the things you loved and 
thinking to myself "how different was it 
when you were here? And why is it different now?" 

I often listen to music and catch your 
name in the melody. I question the existence 
of it, the lack of yours and mine, barely. 
I often wake up to the sound of your 
breathing, your voice, your words, I wake 
up to you. Staring right through me: silent, 
motionless and dead.

Eve of Destruction

We have seen every ghastly act and recorded it.
Yet more grisly deeds yellow in archives
waiting to be resuscitated and refined.
 
Tyrannosaurus Rex awakes in a drop of amber,
takes a gander, decides to go extinct.
A Dark Net spreads like arsenic and syrup.
Cell phones retweet daily holocausts over donuts.
Evil has friends on Facebook.
 
The commonplace entertains the unspeakable
as if it were merely an eccentric uncle.
The unborn and the born are culled,
Plague businesses thrive.
There are killings on the market, viral wars
burst spiky eruptions of emojis.
Slave traders operate from strip-malls
owned by chauffeured demons,
while journalists huddle in their alabaster cities
undimmed by human tears.
 
Pandemonium is the addiction of choice
and the eyes of those in power
glitter in the clear blue sky-dreams
of both the heartless and the homeless.
Drugged you are America,
soon to be sold on an auction block
of your own drugged choosing.
We once sang for you America,
O Beautiful America.

Our New World

This is how it is we can never stand tall, if you ain't got no power you better feel small 

We fight and fight until it's our own fault  
Our freedom has changed,  our lives put on halt 

Because of money, power,control and greed
The working people just want to be freed 

Trying to fill are Heads with guilt and lies
They don't care if we live or die 

Let's clap and praise the nhs
With there tik Tok dances, media and press

We have a fight that we are up against
Trying to save our world, oh what are children have to face 

Our grandparents lives,  I feel no longer matter,
Our hearts our aching, my  hearts going to shatter 

We have loved ones with cancer with no hope of care
People not being resuscitated, the COVID scare 

Wake and smell the worlds a mess
The masses are loving us in fear and stress 

The world is built on money on sin
Let's stand together and we shall win

Treasure Your Life

TREASURE YOUR LIFE

A way of life to follow hidden in us
But evident with the help of the holy spirit
Pour out during our baptism to remind us
The link that was sent to us, using it to reach out to the test

Encountering our egos
Trying to change how we perceive
The environment we are living in as
The best gift we have to gladly receive

We were once dead in spirit and body
Resuscitated back to life again
So that we may inherit the glory
And through imparting of divine life that we have gain

Developing our inner motive to fly
The brakes that will not disappoint us
The engine that makes us start the journey 
On the way to our success that awaits


Everything is tangible and good 
Loses its value in due time
Why do we like things of a high standard?
My watch only counts in minute


Today you see me with blue
Never fades with too much of ignorance
Tomorrow you will find me with glue
That permanently create a mark of sense

Can Say That

They talk about suicide prevention and awareness and I just stare messed how can I preach when I survived my peace, by chance, isolated and overdosed resuscitated by those close, pure chance, I took enough to die, a lot not a few, the whole packet if I’m honest with you, I sat alone gave no clue no suspicion no one knew, my dad arrived when he wouldn’t normally, random not ordinary, if I lived 10,000 days there’d be three or four where he’d appeared that day, I said if I die I die if I live I live I fight, never believed I’d stay alive, odds were stacked I wanted to die, any other day it would have been my life, I survived so I fight, but it hurts me inside thinking of him saving my life, said he couldn’t wake me however hard he tried, went on for long he said he thought I was gone, worst feeling he’d felt came on, desperation saw him violently shake me, and in that moment out the black did wake me, I put my life in fates hands and fate gave those hands to my dad, how can I tell you not to do what I have? I survived and I’m sad for my dad, suicide is pain you can never take back and if you aren’t living you can’t tell that

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