Lips, you pass so close
From a kiss to words
Corollas of knowledge
And of pleasure
What are you doing here
On this deserted face
Kneaded by a bare silence
Without a halo
Aren’t you afraid
Of being late bloomers
Of crossing your borders
Into an unreal land?
Yet your edges tremble
And the skin begins to see
As if the ancient spring
Reopened the evening
To see the day
Is to open the sky
To see the day
Is all of infinity
To see the day
Is to leave the shadow
And the primal water
Takes us back
(To see the day)
(It is to open the sky)
There, the eyes gather
A timeless light
It slides on the cheek
Like fruit on the sand
And this chastity
Is not coldness
It is a hand of a spring
At the edge of the face
Aren’t you afraid
Of being late bloomers
Of crossing your borders
Into an unreal land?
Yet your edges tremble
And the skin begins to see
As if the ancient spring
Reopened the evening
To see the day
Is to open the sky
To see the day
Is all of infinity
To see the day
Is to leave the shadow
What-When Where- How- Why
No greater love than a man lay down his life for a friend
This is where a life story journey begins: the unwanted bliss, the forbidden child begins to speak!
Wished to be born to come to the birth canal, wished to breathe the mist of the fragrant grass
the air wished for water or the time the bag burst for life, the tear the tare the feel is real but there
Inside the belly remorse removable no contentment the rest but not for long for it was heard in the sealed small voice the curse the worst never to ride a bicycle down the pavement never to be tucked inside on clean white sheets never to rest the head on a fluffy pillow sprinkled in love and care
Never to taste a sweet, never to know a friend to run and play with, not any day. What is play?
Never could know how to say, Mother
Neither the word Daddy. My last words, last thought, last cry, last tear, last fear, last pain, last day
So Close
What, where, when, how, why? Where are they... They were once so close to life, now gone, never mind because I'm not here on earth anymore, just a ghost, nothing more!
.
Some days I’m living in panic
Panic like I cannot move
Panic like there are hot metal chains
wrapped tightly around my ribs
Trying to talk feels like breathing in smoke
On the verge of tears
And all I want is to curl up and cry
Until my eyes turn red
But I can’t because
I’m in school
And everyone will see how much
Of a fool I am
So I have to look like I’m ok
But I’m not
Because later that night
That night of the panic attack,
I got so close
I even made a plan
I planned to cut in groups of three
Cuz three is my comfort number
That day I chose 27 cuts
Because nine times three
Nine times I lacked the comfort I craved
I remember it distinctly
Nine times three
Cuz nine times I felt hurt that day
One I was in trouble, two I got yelled at,
Three I woke up late, four,I was called rude for talking
Five I’m so immature, six, I had extra chores,
Seven I couldn’t eat lunch, eight Alex hates me
And nine I hate myself and I don’t matter anymore
When I went to bed that night I was so scared
because I got so close to SH
I got so close this time
So close yet so far
You were right there.
Close enough that if I leaned
just a little more
the space between us would have vanished.
Our shoulders almost touching,
your breath folding into the quiet air,
my hands pretending to rest calmly
while every nerve in me
reached for you.
It is a strange ache,
to miss someone
while they are sitting beside you.
I wanted something small.
Your hand in mine.
My fingers tracing the outline of your face.
A kiss that didn’t need witnesses.
Just proof that the distance I felt
wasn’t real.
Hours passed like held breath.
I memorized the warmth of you
without touching it.
I loved you without moving.
And when I left,
my hands were empty,
but my heart
was unbearably full.
Inspired by the first song I heard on the radio:
Her breath is bad, her armpits reek -
I try to move away.
I open windows, hold my breath -
her awful pong will stay.
Her silent, deadly gas escapes,
I spray the stinky air.
I wish she'd wash and change her clothes,
shampoo her greasy hair.
I truly wonder how she'll cope
some day if she encounters soap!
So Close, So Far
Beauty-backed brains,
Ever radiant, ever evanescent
And rejuvenating.. while life's rains
Treacherously try to tear and rent
Rippled holes into men's hearts,
Inspiration comes forth from you
Cajoled by Cupid's love-soaked darts
Encapsulating everyone in your view.
Ordinary folk like me
Metamorphose into a being
Only a favoured few see
Like snowflakes which spring
A surprise on creatures in June
Raking leaves which fell from
Aftermaths of a terrific storm
We used to be so close
Nose to nose
Eyes to eyes
These are not lies.
Now, you’re so far
It’s like a strange war
You get upset
For no reason
This is a new season
Let’s not bet
To separate forever
Or to quit loving each other.
Let’s reminisce
That’s not a sin
Let’s try again
To be face to face
Very close
Nose to nose
Eyes to eyes
Under the blue skies.
Copyright © November 2015, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several poetry collections.
I wait in my quiet,
the evening is still deep
in its own. Nothing moves.
Moonlight casts eerie shadows
beneath the tall trees. Something
wants to speak.
I sense a fear, a reluctance
to leave the dark cover
of the evening, to come forward
and approach me. And yet
nothing betrays the still
except now the soft whispers
of leaves rippling unseen
high in the canopy overhead.
Please speak…
But there is only the barely
audible chatter of leaves.
It seems to know me
and has, for so long,
been waiting in my silence.
There are times when
I can almost hear it breathe.
Tonight it is particularly close,
so near that I feel
a part of it is reaching out
to touch my hand but then,
pulls back. It is so afraid,
so in need of love.
My spirit frost bitten
yet still the river flows
Mercy on the distant bank
my fate caught in between
Wishes drift across the ice
but this side holds me fast
Deliverance oh so very near
— in sight beyond my reach
(Dreamsleep: February, 2024)
My ambitions elitist
reality bourgeois
My palate continental
taste buds still raw
My ambition ennobled
vocation unhailed
My reality sordid
—future travailed
(Dreamsleep: May, 2023)
I’m closer to fine than you’ll ever see,
and closer to fine than I’ll ever be.
The sky, earth, and sea – but surely not me,
this then is dimensional harmony.
The birds and creatures in the forest wild
are voices of nature, gentle and mild.
Not I, however, I am a mere child
and in unnatural state, I’m exiled.
In the waters where currents run deep,
there are fish that never consent to sleep.
They swim, dive, or across the reef they creep,
but at the last, they’re in the ocean’s keep.
Could all the planets burst out of align
and the moon and stars forget how to shine?
Would you then believe that truths to assign
are yours, but may lead to doubtful design?
Will you admit that in the world’s decline,
you cannot determine your fate or mine?
A clear hint that you’re now closer to fine,
and clearer still that you’re closer than I’m.
Us meeting it was by chance - a happenstance
a crowded place, me sitting absorbed in the cathode ray blue of my phone
you sit a close distance away
"you like the show?... It's my favorite"
never again thought I could be this
i'm drawn to you more and more each day
the sun rises and sets over you - every day I wish it to be longer than the last so I can spend more time with you
my light do not leave me -I carry you wherever I go
do not leave this door open, for it's a chance our love could walk away
I’ve seen wretched souls
fall poorer by stealth
I’ve seen frail old people
endure pain as they knelt
Climbing mountains barefoot
pilgrimages never stop
A penance for being born
light your candle at the top
I’ve seen false prophets
adorn halls with great wealth
I’ve seen saints being evoked
promising to cure ill health
Down beside the grotto
past where wheelchairs roll
Believers lie prostrate
whilst souvenirs are sold
They beg for miracles
hoping prayers will be felt
Some have their spirits raised
gods name becomes misspelt
Selective interpretations
scriptures bent to suit man
Dogmatic, stern beliefs
hushed silence, vetoes, bans
under forced indoctrination
this mind started to melt
Brainwashed in a classroom
with the strap of a belt
Now feel worthy of nothing
and deserving of it all
I still must climb mountains
but try avoid the brick walls
By David Kavanagh
Love that you found someone for yourself.
Hate that you're often becoming further away
From me instead of anyone else...
Why should I be there for others
When no one is here or there for me?
I have already acclaimed how lonely I am.
Yet nothing else, but this same path,
Is willing to change.
Not that I am incapable of making friends...
I just intuitively know who is genuine
By the sound of their voice and words.
A voice within a voice once had spoke to me.
Asked for something from me...
I've given it to you ever since:
A loyal, close-yet-faraway bond.
Same for you, same for me;
That eternal fondness is there.
Yet somedays it feels so scarce.
Locating door D-75
Of a large colony on a drive,
At last close, ah D-74!
I must be right at destiny’s door.
But the next turns out B-68!!
What, lost at the very Pearly Gate?
So I felt midway through my poem—
Roots in air, hangs down to earth tree’s stem!
Old wisdom, the time turns when adverse,
I recalled oft-quoted holy verse
From Bhagavad-Gita’s holiest text
Talking of Tree of Life, but what next?
At wits’ end and left with not a clue,
You hope some divine help might rescue.
______________________________________
Tongue-in-cheek sonnet |09.02.2022|
Poet’s note: a sonnet of sort set in anapaest meter.
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