"Never say never," said Gran, tying my shoe,
but I was six and certain.
"I will never ride a bike,"
I said.
Training wheels came off in June;
I fell, I bled, I rose then.
By August, I was all wind,
and Gran, on the porch,
never saying "told you so."
I am what I am!
I am a positive breeze
blowing now between us,
with a clear sky in my mind
and a blooming orchard in my heart.
I am a sense of certainty
in our stride,
along the labyrinthine paths
of a world that keeps on growing.
I am a clear voice
amidst our voices,
our inexhaustible speech
heard in every language.
I am a warm smile
amidst our alienation,
with a tender gaze and humanity—
an embrace for all.
I am the strong, rapid heartbeat
of our love,
a revitalized pleasure
in the pulse of happiness.
I am love—
true love,
given without expecting anything in return;
a positive breeze,
a sense of certainty,
a clear voice,
a warm smile,
a strong, rapid heartbeat;
I am what I am!
In the morning,
Under bright, not yet hot, Sun
I water the garden,
Greens of all shades,
A sprinkling of flowers, in pastel hues
Plants all, soaking up their daily drink
With thirsty smiles
Water, running endlessly
From the river through the hose
Flowing, contained, now free
Soothing, nourishing, sustaining
All the plants
And me.
(8/13/26)
Everything in life holds meaning.
Words hold weight, like pennies on a scale.
“A penny for your thoughts,”
or “throw in your two cents.”
A copper shower leaves welts,
the weight of another’s opinion
pressed into my skin.
The nickels are pelted
while my back is turned.
Standing in the spotlight,
they drop dimes on me.
This can’t be the right change.
Flipping quarters—
heads or tails—
my legs give out
as I hold onto the rail.
A half dollar richer,
I made another on a dime.
The nickels start to make sense,
and somehow those pennies…
they still shine.
Still trying l am to keep face
Even in these times of adversity
Feeling lost in this time and space
Given more so is the uncertanity
With lifes ever changing pace
Overwelming feelings of anixty
Makes my mind and heart race
Not even a moment for clarity
Seems l have now lost all trace
Of what was once my destiny
Having no real sense of place
This is not where l want to be
Spare of moment thiugh some words used in other poems .time and space.gone.whete l want to be inspired by group conversations begining of 2023
No “Grumble, grumble.”
Not a groan in my ribcage.
A sense of wellbeing.
No “Glug, glug,” frantic feeling.
No riptide.
No lost earring feeling.
Lunch.
With a sense of wellbeing as dessert.
I just…
Hum a little bit for now.
As lunch breezes through.
Soda spills a bit.
Like old shoes.
Like crust.
Like must.
Like mustard.
Like a hunch, or “huh.”
Sometimes, I have a short period of time.
But nice hours get used up, and the riptide comes in.
That’s the thing about a sense of wellbeing.
Well, it is like smelling coconut but it’s actually coconut lotion.
Like coconuts knocking around.
Grrr.
POETRYSOUP VOYAGE
it is me
with thee
upon this page
sharing
a moment
of mine,
now a moment
of thine
co-joined
unspoken
yet real
somewhat
surreal yet
for a while
here
understood
peer to
peer
no,let imagination fly
to..
exits of the ordinary;
let ambiguity cry
where..
hides the paradox;
let enigma lie
unsaid..
'guised in masquerade;
let euphony whisper
breaths..
of symphony;
let assonance
show..
yet,not dwell;
let our verse
show..
but never tell
so
Will
you take my hand
and voyage with me
upon this ship
discovery;
Will
you come aboard
and sail a sea
of uncharted waters,
fancy-free;
Will
you explore new sounds,
discover a place
unknown,with unique
imagery;
Will
you close your eyes,
let the canvas unfold,
and imagination pen..
poetry?
Give me a man who's introspects
Who concedes the flaw that's true
Give me a man who can laugh at himself
And can walk in another's shoes.
Give me a man who can stand apart
But who's able to blend in
When the road ends he can restart
He plays fair when he strives to win.
Give me a man who can see the world
Without a filter of preconception
Who can recognize when the script is overthrown
By one nagging exception.
Give me a man who can take a critique
But who can also dish one out
Admitting fault doesn't make you weak
And sometimes there is room for doubt.
Give me a man who hears the quiet voice
The soft alarm that something's wrong
Who steps back, revises his choice
Like rewriting the words of a hit song.
Give me a man who likes to jump in a pond
And swim to the far shore
Who wants to see what lies beyond,
And what the journey's for.
Give me a man with a strong arm and a soft word
Empathetic, but not to the point of harm
Who can go against the herd
When the party line raises an alarm.
Give me the company of men such as these
They'll keep me honest too
A trust so deep to keep at ease
And friends to see me through.
In sensing, hear as twere we
Danger, an angel.
As a muffled vibration
A wall does repel.
Whose form itself do these see!
Knowing looks, soul's own
Each to each give; in that flash
Called intuition.
As thins that veils' conception.
Two world's. And too shown!
I didn't know you could tell jokes !
AP: 3rd place 2026
Life's one big practical joke.
I'm standing on top of the world.
Laughter gets me through anything.
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: 3rd place 2026
______________________
All around, we increasingly find AI generated things-- novels, poems, motivated news and the like. In social media videos have already invaded for long. It has become increasingly hard to spot the genuine from one not. All AI generated things I think are loaded with heady information, but they lack heart and soul’s personal touch, the I-sense. This ditty is born out of this discomfort.
___________________
Bothors mimicking authors known,
And AI poets copy prone,
Each oh what a black ship--
Bane of pied penmanship,
Dog-like chewing up AI bone,
Like flesh free from hunger,
Heart nor soul nor anger,
Filled but with false pretense,
Lacking crucial I-sense,
Drab like dull-witted guided drone.
______________________________
Happenings | 26.05.2026 | author, computer, copycats, poet, Self, Limerick
Few people have this God-given gift
Few leaders have this Great Divine lift
Let’s put and keep ourselves together
Let’s gather and assemble the marbles in the center
Let’s keep and hold our head high in the air
Happiness and hope are up there
Few people demonstrate common sense
Few leaders possess good sound sense
Seasons come and go; time comes and goes
And never returns. Let’s stop staring at our toes
Happy and auspicious times are around the corner
Never give up. God is the Supreme Master
He is the only One
And there is only One
Few people possess this God-given lift
Few leaders are blessed with this Great Divine gift.
Copyright © May 2026 Hébert Logerie. All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several poetry books.
My hollow head discerned a patter.
I wondered what could be the matter.
The rain and wind made such a racket,
but I tried hard to unpack it.
I think it said, "Wear a jacket".
To the weather, I replied,
I think I'll just go inside.
The world makes a lot more sense
when I'm standing on my head !
AP: Honorable Mention 2026
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