"Why do you rebel?"
Asked the artist of the bruise
"Your head is sick, your heart faint
Your skin is slick with wounds"
Yet in the same breath
"I do not delight in lambs' blood"
Yet he likens kin to lambs
And killed both in the flood
But "thou shalt not kill"
Declares he who killed the most
"My sword devours 'til sated"
Saith the Lord of Hosts
"For I am sorry
About all of your punishments"
There's no forgiveness in me
My lord, I'm far beyond spent
The swords within the tongues of silver ice
Cut roses into diamonds of the mind
As night moves on, demanding twice the price
I rise to walk from days I left behind
To greet the starlight burning in the sun
And run through tangled vines no longer blind
I live to feel the daylight’s quiet run
And hear the fading echoes of my feet
While dreaming of tomorrow’s tender fun
What words of frost could she but write and tweet
What nights of shadow tempt my heart to stray
Yet still I hear a happiness so sweet
Let’s live to love the luxury of today
And walk the dreams where living learns to play
green
you bend~
sway with grace
catch dawn’s first light
verdant, slender spine
perineal
roots reaching
sun-drenched
lawn
pentacles and swords
sanctify wise wands weaving
grail glistens graced gift ~
Christmas rose, Iphianassa suffers in her soul’s asylum, your elixir the only
panacea for fox-skinned maínomai
Lonely sawsan, proud swords erected in red dead rivers of brotherly love,
refugees granting asylum to lost birthrights
Tempestuous mirella, vagrant sadist cutting Cheshire grins
into your fantasies, il mio timore più grande era che io morissi prima di te
Peaceful kardi, atlas moths sway against Solomon’s palms, carrying
pollinated songs to queens of sun-born blackness in Amana’s sanctuary
Carol did not know anything about the five of swords
from the soothsayer’s face she wondered about it
the startled fortuneteller quickly gathered herself
mentioning the value of taking care of yourself
So, this was a selfish card in her future position?
Carol resolved to look it up herself when she got home
She had many tarot cards, but had not noticed this one
It was not something that stood out in her readings.
The five of swords is both a beacon of hope and a dire warning.
Carol was unsure which one was going to apply.
As this tarot card had landed in the future position.
Possibly means starting new endeavors, she counted on this.
Snow Fantasy or Christmas Nostalgia Poetry Contest, Constance La France, writing for theme 1
I am a queen
Like the ones in those movies with the sled dogs pulling them on sleighs
Except I don't want that for my dogs.
I am the sort of queen who walks elegantly
Though not in dresses because it's simply not practical.
I am the snow boot mistress
Securing my specialized soldiers as anything but listless.
I am a fair ruler
Though not pretty, I am just,
I am ferocious.
I wield my icicle sword by the hilt
And my hands don't get cold
For I am the Queen of Snow.
I am everything I want to be,
Living out my fantasy,
Until Mama calls me inside;
My cheeks are rosy
And it's heavily snowing
And the darkness is growing
And she has the fireplace roaring
And the tea is pouring
And it's almost time for dinner...
I can be a Queen again
Tomorrow
I don’t know exactly what the Bible
Has said about these three words
However, I know these are like sharp swords
Which can only be negative and destructible.
They are definitely the obvious opposites of love
Love is sweet, soft, beautiful and refreshing
However, these three pariahs are destroying
Everything on their paths; they are full of loathe.
There should no room for them in the natural verse
They can burn, break, disrespect, divide, hurt and maim
They can contaminate and rot everything. Where they aim
Is unusual and irrelevant; they are deleterious to the universe,
Copyright © October 2025 Hébert Logerie, all rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poetry.
Few Words Footle
few words
like swords
What are you afraid of
Look in their eyes
For now it's time
You've been soft for too long
Head on her knees
Arms wrapped around her legs
And just like a prisoner
For freedom she begs
For a moment they pray
The other she turns to prey
If she doesn't marry, she's faulty
For crimes she never did she's guilty
Each day every day she crumbles
Every step she takes she fumbles
Her lips are like sharp sword
But she's forced to never say a word
Taught to be humble, always calm
It's the way you live without any harm
But when they've lost all the humanity
Why are you afraid to do the same
When they've abused all their right
Why are you afraid to still fight
What do you have left to lose
Why do you fear
You can steal words, not ideas
You can steal moments, not feelings
If they do then let them
For they can steal bodies, not souls
Such obstreperous obliqueness
filling a guess.
Blissful in my obliviscence,
warm in silence.
Opulent eyes obfuscate words,
I feel swords.
All those obsequious rewards,
they mean absolutely nothing.
You’re unequivocally bluffing.
Filling a guess warm in silence I feel swords.
Falling, not on my blade,
but theirs,
a wound that’s borrowed,
never healed,
a cut that’s by those I shared.
I die a thousand cuts by hands, I never held,
beneath a sky of broken pride,
where the ghosts of others
bled,
but never cried.
Do We Bleed Not, In That We Love
As Blades, As Roses, Time Is As Fleeting As A Dove
And As The Sand Sifts The Moments Out The Hourglass
And Love Finds It's Way, Just As The Blade Swinging In Inertial Mass
F=m a , This The Sword Knows
For Passionate Lovers, In War, In Crowns With Thorns
Where The Sweet Scents Of Affection Serenade The Soul
Just As Battle Scars From Pangs Of War,
Yet, Nothing Truly Is Ever Lost
When You Turn Pain To Bards,
Whether Battlefields Or Romance, Matters Not
Wounded By The Cold Piercing Steel Tip Of Fraught,
And The Mists Of Time Take It's Course
And The Memories Are Stained With Pricks And Bones,
With Life Comes Lessons, Regressions And Discourse
In Symphonies Of Valor And Heartbreak And Remorse,
Nothing Unfettered, Nothing Gained, In Devotion, In Lament With Swords
Through Friendships, Through Amours
So Bend the Will Of Hatred And Anger Like A Scimitar, Lay Down The Glaive
And Plant The Seed For Better Days
Turn of An Unfriendly Card
(Tarot 3 of Swords)
I cannot empathize with a shattered heart.
That image of a fragile, breakable baby pink orb
Is insulting to how I feel.
The turn of an unfriendly card depicts three swords
thrust into a still beating heart
I feel the sliver blade of that first sword
plunge hard, deep and succinctly.
I gasp with the pain in my chest
I feel the second as it severs sideways
and tears my heart from side to side
and as grief overwhelms my shredded heart,
the third slides neatly, methodically
down the middle until it dismembers
the connection to keeping it all together,
and I double over, sink to the floor, rock my body
and cry.
What I avoided is staring at me
daring me
to accept the inevitable and grow from upheaval
Become something greater that the puddle I’ve collapsed into,
grow something strong from the richness
of the blood-meal soaked earth.
The sword hurts and tears again while being pulled out
in necessary preparation for the healing to begin.
My heart is not fragile.
If God had to write a poem
Being the best divine writer
Ever
This poem
Would have been very simple
No words
No swords
Writing on the parchment
No, this is not a sample
Of his mysterious accoutrement
Just blank pages
For the ages.
Copyright © April 2016, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.
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