Free speech for me but not for thee
Is the Brave New World
Version of the 1st Amendment
Careful what you wish
It’s what you’ll vote for
And what you’ll get.
(9/17/26)
I am a liberal conservative
who is confident when nervous.
Living as a pessimistic optimist,
I imagine what the worst is
only to quickly dismiss this.
As a depressed, joyous person
my moods are rarely self-chosen.
My dumbness is quite intelligent
and both are often equally lent
to my love I freely see spent.
Fragile coats all my strength.
So shy is my boldness length
it forms soft iron clad links.
I love to both dance and sing,
but have no rhythm or tune zing.
I am content being domestic
until stress turns my calm hectic
and I loudly whimper for a peptic.
I make serious, snap decisions
within many days of quickness.
I believe the world needs rules
for me to follow as I choose.
Awake, I dream of the 1800’s -
a rustic life with modern plumbing.
On and off contradictions do not stay gone.
I hope it's all right to think this wrong.
Understood as noise
Merely deciphered
Speech, from out this hive, peace-stilled
Draws the wasp angered.
Three years of age cerebral palsy her condition
No outward signs she is lacking cognition
Though not yet able to communicate through speech
To meet her needs other signs she does beseech
Fascinated by instruments of music
In response her facial expression never static
The direction of each eye is misaligned
The radiation of her thousand watt smile so magically defined
Missed my shot with you is a crime
Now I'm all grown-up, still in my prime
I dropped the ball, gone catch it next time
To say I ain't nerves, I would be lying
Fell on my face a few times, I ain't do no crying
Bettering myself I swear I been trying
I wrote down my thought, I picked up a book
I made my bed, I learned how to cook
I face my fears, even when I was shook
I SAID I PICKED UP A BOOK, I WRONG DOWN MY THOUGHTS
I APPLIED WHAT I LEARNED, EXECUTED WHAT I WAS TAUGHT
WORKED ON MY FLAWS AND CHARACTER DEFAULTS
Some days been easy, some days have been hard
No one sent me a letter not even a card
But I still move along, never retard
GRANNY SAID IT WOULD BE HARD, BUT I TRIED TO GO EASY
Got me some waves I use to be peezy
Stack some cheddar now I'm extra cheesy
Practice all the time so I get it right
Working my ass off day in and night
I know I'm gone make it this ain't no might
So I hit my knees before I go to bed
I pray for what I want, a wife and some kids
No more sorrows an no more bids
I pressed my bunk but still cant sleep
I ask for forgiveness and my soul to keep
then it all goes silent not even a peep
A bird, long of tooth, but short of beak
had the temerity to speak.
So, I reserved a table and grabbed a seat.
The thing he had to say was "tweet".
& the cotton-mouthed bliss is
a life i dissolve into
can anybody apart from us feel?
amid solar pulses i exist under your orbit,
speaking into you
bright-bodied in rampant succesion to lone Junes
from when the days were long
and realisations sprung like fresh fruit, the first bite
thirsty after a winter drought
ive always been a trite conversationalist
but now we exist beneath the macabre skies,
in wake of the suns divorce
speak to me in those laden prophecies
the language you save for disasters
my words scatter within your radiations and i am pool-drunk
chlorine chasing a summer theophany,
busy understanding the world through you
TRUMP SPEECH WAS A FLOP
THE DOW JONES TAKES A BIG DROP
OIL PRICE DOES UP CROP
The ‘angry black woman’,
Is me -
We can agree to agree,
Because u see,
I am proud to be - a black woman who is angry
When I see me, I see a fiery spirit,
A passionate girl with nothing to lose -
Except my sanity,
To be happy,
I must be -
The black woman who is angry
Everyday is a battle of strength,
And by the end of the day there is nothing left to give ,
Because to be black is to exist - not live ,
To hide your emotions -
To clench your fist -
To resist,
The urge to scream, to cause havoc
So yes i’m angry - and no i’m not ignorant,
I am just sick and tired of holding it in -
Of pleading my case,
Giving evidence,
And yet after all this -
Still be treated like a mental patient,
Labelled as the ‘angry black woman’
The stereotype -
They label as a disease -
One that takes our right to speak -
To have free speech,
So yes i’m an angry black woman -
And no,
That doesn’t make me crazy
To be an angry black woman,
Is to -
Reclaim the narrative,
Of the right to speak -
On the issues,
You claim -
To be -
Non existent,
I am an angry black woman -
Because I care about my people
We cannot lean too heavily on words.
They buckle under what we mean to bear.
Too many mouths stand open in the air,
And still the air is torn by what we say.
You told me I misrepresented us.
I asked you how. You said you never wished
To leave. I asked you why you did. You said
You feared that I would stay.
How quickly language makes a blade of breath.
We speak to spare ourselves, and cut instead.
What mercy is there in explaining fear?
Bring wine, my dear. Let silence have its turn.
I will not press the wound to make it clear.
Sit here. I will listen to your staying.
freedom of speech is our right ~ don't defame those that don't agree with you
Spring is around the corner
Pretty soon
There will be no more ice and werewolves in the streets
Gone will be all types of fire power and terror
Gone will be the bullies, the thugs and the creeps
In the nick of time, when the soil is hot and steamy
All the goons, bandits and henchmen will be gone
Disappeared and dysfunctional like a dirty
And rusty gun
I cannot wait, I cannot wait
No more executions, tears, chaos and hate.
Copyright © January 2026 Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several poetry collections.
My name is Sergeant Humpty Dumpty Crandall.
You'll see, if, your pardon, I may beg,
that I'm shaped a little like an egg
if you hold me to a candle.
I don't consider myself stern or strict,
but there's one thing you must get straight
to avoid the thing that I most hate,
or you'll be severely pummeled and kicked.
Take care not to place me on a wall,
for should I start to wobble,
there'll be a mess a horse can't cobble
(or the king's men). At ease, boys. That is all.
Too much of badness..Like we know the drill.' It was rife in 2020, and applied by
Morons. To dil's.' Over-speak was full volume.' By media machines all lip gloss
And salad-tossed words; so serene.' You
Were coaxed and encouraged, and most
Un-dernourished' cajoled with free snacks
To sell out each other, the classic Jacob
And Esau brother act.' Scene of false narration; still
Are deep scars on our Nations.' Deception of the
Tounge, is how the rotten play was begun'
No free thought; or speech.? Its mal-direction, its the beginning of infections it
Will create sickeness and division, so make
The best decesion, choose clarity by intuition.' ben shapirio its so; no no..
As once any fourth grader..Would have made you know.' I thank God for mental
Immunity, for by His teachings I reject your
Nudge with unfiltered impunity.' No third way
No compliance; or fudge.)
the page seemed innocent on the screen play of life
not yet computed and sterile but what better adaptation
of blocked writing by an innocent censor of apathy
for an empty cartridge on the blank canvas called reality
and yet what a relief that neurons had exhausted themselves
firing at invisible problems and surreal contenders for
thought of the moment and contempt fixed in time
synaptic displacement idiosyncratic only in absence
refuge or incarceration straitjacket of nothingness’ boredom
or maybe serene uneventfulness unfolding in languished arrest
framed as reference point of perplexing perspective
and finally an outburst of words with whatever elusive meaning there is …
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