She turned the conversation to doctors
I told her I was about to sock her
Speak of something more pleasant
Like plagues killing off peasants
Left my last visit, wondering ~ ‘What for?’
Vigilantes heavy handed with their mouth
Their eyes are crying , they hear the tears
Nourishment flees from their heart
Starvation trolls the diminished dark
Speakings "truths" means a lot
8/28/26
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr 2026
I'm a man
who lives in my truth
and embraces my flaws.
I'm a man
you can't break down
to the point that
even when I'm broken,
you won't notice
I'm broken until you fall.
Since I have no children, I chose to write about the quintessential parental love that I was blessed to receive.
I still see you in the soft corners of my childhood~
your morning humming drifting like a small sunrise,
your hands smoothing the edges of every trembling day,
your presence stitching calm into the rooms we lived in.
The stories you carried shaped the woman I became;
I still see you in the soft corners of my childhood~
your laughter warming the walls like a familiar lantern,
your footsteps teaching me how to walk toward hope.
Time folds softly now, but your tenderness remains;
your wisdom rises like gentle grace when the world grows loud.
I still see you in the soft corners of my childhood~
a quiet compass guiding me back to who I am.
I cherish you still with every grateful breath,
your parental love a quiet light that lingers after loss,
your grace echoing through the rooms of memory
I still see you in the soft corners of my childhood~
I’m grateful all those times I have been blessed…
while walking quietly in a forest among the flowers and the trees
how often…when I walk in silence
the Earth chooses to speak to me.
but listening instead
It is in giving a fistful of wild lilacs
to a crestfallen stranger
and not needing anyone
to give you anything
today
It is in the seamless art
of living quietly,
considering clouds,
like A. E Houseman,
and not lugging boulders
or heavier opinions
when the earth is already
too heavy
The yellowtail butterflies do it
everyday
It is in not needing readers,
recognition, or praise,
when you love yourself
and trust the wind to sway
your hammock of gentle
existence
back and forth,
back and forth
The albino deer drew
admirers
He never asked for them
He is a Barbarian, he eats with his fingers
I put down my fried chicken
He dresses strangely. He wears socks with sandals.
I excused myself and hid my socks in their toothpaste drawer.
He blows bubbles in his milk.
To resist temptation, I took the straw out of my glass.
He sounded normal but he wasn’t said my persnickety cousin.
He sounds like me I think.
I say nothing.
Dive under the table
and dig the lint out from in between my toes.
Theoretically speaking
I have a theory
It is my theory
I will share it with no-one
For they might make it their theory
Thus, it would no longer be my theory
But our theory
In theory, my theory
Would still be mine
But a theory shared
May be a theory lost
In the battle to claim its origin
To seek to profit from it
Theories are like blueberry pancakes
Best savored in silence
With real maple syrup
And some theoretical bacon
That’s one of my theories
Perhaps I shouldn’t have shared it
Dammit…the theoretical inquisition has begun
march squalls unpick roofs
forcing our woman's tongue up
to bark at the air
o infinite sea of galaxies,
older than memory, wider than dreams,
earth sends you a greeting
on the fragile wings of thought.
we are dust that learned to breathe,
clay that discovered questions,
tiny sparks walking beneath sunlight
while night wraps us in your mysteries.
we watch your rivers of stars
flow across the dark sky,
and in that silent river
our wonder grows deep.
perhaps somewhere beyond our blue horizon
other minds awaken beneath alien dawns,
listening—as we do—
to the music of the endless.
so accept this ode, great cosmos:
a message carved from hope and curiosity.
from forests, deserts, and restless oceans
we salute you.
for though we are small,
our questions are vast—
and our dreams travel
as far as the stars.
We have gen X, Y and Z
But what of A, B and C
Discounting the one celled amoeba
And Darwin
Perhaps Gen A was
Adam
Alone in the garden
With Eve
Gen B
Working on
Gen C
The rest are lost
Amid Cain and Abel
Noah
The Arc
And a lot of
the “begots”
And “begettin”
That has led
To the aforementioned
Gen X, Y and Z
The night breeze is softly speaking
a language only hearts
(like ours with emotions peaking)
read before breeze departs.
Sun once more fills the skies ,
duty of day applies,
while our impatience cries.
Finally once again seeking,
the night breeze is softly speaking.
Unfortunately, it is an awkward tradition
That most of us have experienced the passion
Of first love, first wink, first hug and first kiss
Which had disturbed our internal peace.
I still remember the first kiss, the first touch
And the first hug after so many years on the couch
Ouch! It hurts to go back to so many years
Where mistakes had turned into serious errors.
However bad love does not exist on this planet
Experience is about trials and tribulations. I bet
Your bottom dollar that nobody is of course exempt.
These days, I rather think about heading forward
Of loving and living innocently like a brilliant nerd
In lieu of being charged haphazardly in contempt.
Copyright © February 2026 Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several poetry collections.
Sparkling dewdrop on green grass
Slowly sliding - able to go
Dull life - not all free
Like our love - all gone
How can you hate my people as you commercialize our food,
You look at our skin and see dirty lake water.
Believing that we don’t deserve the same as you,
We work hard for our families and are proud.
We learned to be strong and stand up for our rights.
Casting us out like we're not human,
Blinded and taught by hate
Coming from someone that climbed over a wall
To get a space in this wretched place.
You enjoy our music, culture and art
Putting on our Race like it’s a costume.
Let me rip off your cloth like you ripped families apart.
Don’t forget who you're messing with!
We our in the fields feeding your mouths,
Building so you have a place to sleep,
Creating so you dance in the night life.
We are not afraid to speak up,
We are a race of motivators with poor resources.
I am proud to be Mexican,
I love my tan skin, my fiery soul and strive for better.
You can take away everything but you can’t erase the history we will make.
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