Silence originated a scent-
But it fades up-tempo
When real strength walks in.
One move like victory in rise and fall
Steps thumping the ground like a warning,
Revising the mandates with every swagger.
One spray courage like a crown-
Radiant, lucid powerful enough to shift the
Leeway.
Every inhale is affirming space, crisp enough
To make the horizon rise with one.
Silence be funky sporadically-
Truth incarcerated too long in the lightness,
Soone step in, unshaken, untwisted,
Unequivocal.
One deodorize the Silence with one's voice-
Velvet thunder, golden fragments and
Triumphant enough to change the gust of air.
The cuts are clean
They will heal nicely
The wounds are bound up tightly
Cannot see nothing unsightly
Silver strands lay across the skin when seen
Sporadically laid across the legs
Can be passed off as rough play
True knew either way
If others knew
They never said
Probably too afraid to find us dead
With razor blades in hand or blood already shed
We didn't do it for the fear of dying
We did it because we were tired of lying
To ourselves about how we feel
Never properly taught how to deal
For the pain we felt inside
We were told to always hide
Made it seem like it was our fault
For never wanting to talk
When we were ready and mentally steady
We would come to find we would be dismissed
Stating it was part of the teenage bliss
Never truly knowing if we gained death kiss
Make an idol of,
by worshiping &
adoring as godlike.
Heart beats rapidly,
sporadically whenever near
it skips.
To beautify furthermore would be
divine intervention,
nothing compares.
Weak-kneed & star-struck
paralyzed with love,
in an enamored state of presence.
This year autumn is the bugs busying the undergrowth hiding under sodden leaves. It is children playing with and collecting acorns that have scattered the ground sporadically as squirrel’s nourishment for the day. It is the rain that drenches the plants once dried up and wilting in the summer sun. It is the showers that leave the glimpse of a rainbow as if in a distant land. It is the rotting of apples unchosen for apple-pie that blustery night where the log-fire is once again alive.
I’m reminded that now it is autumn as I step into that muddy woodland. It is though someone has shaken the trees of their leaves, the earth an array of colours, nut brown, oranges and golden yellows. Yet, soon the season will pass just as a storm leaves just a breeze and we are left nostalgic for the time we spent in these nature-nurturing months.
the bus was driving as sporadically as possible that day
Screeching around the corner, that twenty-second of May
It’s on two wheels, the mamas said, irritated at the driver, Gus
But he had been plucked out; by bears, who were steering the bus.
Where are our children? Asked the mamas all concerned now.
The bears gave them a paw up as the bus drove toward a cow.
The principal called to let them know their kids were still at school.
Driver Gus was never found, and the bus ended up in a pool.
You will never believe what I should see,
but three blue-grey birds on the branch of a tree.
I do not think that they were finches,
though they were only about five inches.
Sporadically, each, in turn, would hop,
as they composed the gnatcatcher bop.
"Every enigmatic environment enlists enlightened emotions" Quote by The Poet
Spectacular silvery spangled, star studded sky, so serene.
Under universal utterances uniquely unabashed, unseen.
Wildest wind wails when weakened, was welcomed warm weather.
Trees towering, trying to triumphantly touch together.
Serendipitous splendor soothes soulful scenes.
Gracefully groomed, growing greens.
Lustrous light looms, lasting like lingering lanterns.
Youthful yellowing, yet yesterday yearns.
Moonbeams meander, mesmerized midst melting moments.
Extraterrestrial elements enlist exponents.
Frenzied fireflies flutter, fulfilling fanciful florescent flashes.
Sparkling, swishing splashes.
Sycamores sway sweetly, so subdued, sounds softly sweep.
Calm clarity closely causes comfort, combinations creep.
Sporadically straying, sadly sets sorrow so steep.
If you stand strongly with and for Liberty
I will fearlessly join you
If you stand firmly for Freedom
I will cheer the noble gestures of your kingdom
If you stand enthusiastically for Equality
I will ecstatically stand with you too
If you stand for good democracy
I will help you spread the seeds of Love
I will happily clap when the doves are hovering above
If you stand solidly for fair and equal justice
I will help you ring the bells of peace
I will fervently pray for you all the time
I will sporadically listen to the tintinnabulation of the chime
Brothers and sisters, I have tears of hope in my eyes today
Otherwise
My pen is able and ready amidst the fray
And it won’t be so wise
Because I love my fellow human beings, our people
Who are black, red, white, yellow and purple.
P.S. This poem is dedicated to Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., and to our brothers and sisters.
Copyright © January 2025, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.
Things That Should Grow on Trees
Things that should grow on trees include:
big sea birds with
extremely long wings, old-fashioned shoe
horns, tape recorders who
play sporadically cries of
grief, blank
photographs, stamps with
printed eyeballs, people with
colourless or
very nearly colourless hair and
skin and
pinkish eyes, the word
unfortunately, the word
regrettably, the word
even though, miniature
pianos, vampire
teeth, leaf
blowers, False
IDs, illuminated loyalty
cards, the watchful and
attentive, damp
clothes, pom
poms, glass
shards, pack of
cards, rope knot
balls, plastic
trinket boxes, ashtrays (glass only), lips (too
animal lips), spines (too
animal spines), toast, headache
tablets, running
shoes, and
whores.
Blessed by Jupiter adorned by Saturn,
reckless and just a bit larger than life;
For desire and a little fire we yearn;
So much of the Universe left to learn
cutting through time with a celestial knife;
Blessed by Jupiter adorned by Saturn;
Locked in a galactic waltz at each turn
she’d gladly stay with all that joy so rife;
For desire and a little fire we yearn;
Solar winds can sporadically downturn,
among a supernova there’s no strife;
Blessed by Jupiter adorned by Saturn;
The need for absolute freedom is stern,
led by the sweet rebellion of a fife;
For desire and a little fire we yearn;
Venus armed with a path of no return
amorous blues always chase the good life;
Blessed by Jupiter adorned by Saturn,
for desire and a little fire we yearn.
Here come April showers.
Here come the last snow flurries.
The trees are jolly and rejuvenating,
Since the weather is now cool, spring
Is here. Yes, the lilies are blooming.
Here come the fledgling flowers.
The parks have extended their hours.
The children are roller skating and playing,
The track and field team is practicing,
And the dog owners are smirking and strolling.
Spring is here. The air is brand-new and fresh.
It rains sporadically. ‘Tis the time to stretch
Our imagination, to enjoy life to the fullest,
And to renew relationship. This is the best
Time to charm, chill, relax, pause, and rest.
Copyright © April 2020, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.
My Body Explained in Metaphor
My Life is an ever-changing hill.
I stagger up foot over foot
And hand over hand
If I’m lucky occasionally I trot down
My eyes are two cameras
They focus on what I need.
Sporadically, they find things to scare
My eyes don’t filter, don’t care.
My legs are two stilts
Most of the time I balance well
Navigate the road, and pitfalls
I’ve very rarely fell.
My ears are radars
They scan all around
Searching for interesting rumours
Alerting to dangerous sounds
My hands are tendrils of contact.
They hold loved ones near
And push away all my enemies.
Always arm’s length from fear.
My heart is a fuel pump.
Feeding my engine of life
It bleeds quite easily.
I share it only with my wife.
My body is a metaphor
Perhaps yours different to mine?
My brain is the enemy
Never speaks when all is fine.
David Cox 02/01/24
She finds herself
in a room much too small for her mind.
Cigarettes of hope and despair
burn all night.
She eats sporadically,
rehearses her soul-talk regularly.
Her history was once linear,
a straight line
now it is but a mad moment
circling a non-stop mind carousel.
There were men,
many
none now wash their face in her hands.
Alone in her self-separation,
she pens in a time-stained journal
notes upon a former life
that always threatens to
divorce her from herself.
She remains a sister, a mother,
a friend to the always desperate,
but her mind wanders
carrying within it a dazed surmise
together with
many stone-cold for-get-me-nots.
The rain drops sporadically
hitting every pain of glass
till all is wet to touch
the rain pours down deeply now
splattering up on the grass
till it's too much
the rain runs a steady stream along the driveway crease washing away the leaves of winter's past
filling the drain
“Doing what you love is freedom. Loving what you do is happiness.”
Lana Del Rey
Happiness with peace for the masses comes sporadically,
And at times it feels like periods of great prosperity or
Long-lasting peace has come not often throughout history.
Changes in politics or times of trouble or war
Yank away the good times causing for many stress or tragedy.
Oh, how I long for the ‘80’s. Down came a mighty wall!
No recent decade can match it, and I was having a ball!
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