Where there is injustice
There is corruption
Where there is justice
There is liberation.
Where there are rights
There is freedom
Where there are fights
There is martyrdom.
Where there are lies
There are thefts
Where there are cries
There are deaths.
Where there are smiles
There is happiness
Where there are styles
There is progress.
Where there is peace
There is love
Where there are feasts
There are doves above.
Copyright © January 2019, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
One paw
on frozen bark,
he stares
at his empty cache~
acorn thefts long spent.
Freakin' wintertime he mutters,
fluffing fur
against the wind,
while snow
laughs
back in silence.
A kingdom of buried treasure,
and not a dang thing to chew.
What’s a squirrel to do?
Grace is a free gift
That cover up all drifts
Even in its own shift
It troubles logical thefts
Truly, in problems, it seems there is no grace
Or you think many are out of space
May be its remains are of trace
Meant for those who set the pace
Working grace is for all
Just that many don't listen to its call
And leads it astray to their downfall
Yet, aligned beings get to stand tall
Someone paid for it
To let go of us- punishment
Our troubles and s
Laid down as the sheep for atonement
He died for our sakes
Without complaining of aches
Yet, for us; wines and breads, he bakes
And our destined home, he makes
marauding foxes
mutilating fruit
minutemen mischief-makers
marching upon us
pick our pockets
laugh at our loss
“No mangoes for sale”
maimed, mangled, mashed
sweetness shamed
to death
ants and gnats feasting
off illicit mango chutney
sly scamps
evade
like Bolt-pace
their intake
of fruit sugars
insufficient for catching
robust diabetes
enfeebling the fiends
abducting limbs, or a pedactyl
soulful eyes stare with jeers
sailing
mimicking
bold breezes
through the trees
as I could never
in the canopy of my Caribbean youth
under mother's God-eye
girls outclimbed me
wearing puffy petticoats
and cumbersome cornrows
to perpetrate petite thefts
of mangoes
Grace is a free gift
That cover up all drifts
Even in its own shift
It troubles logical thefts
Truly, in problems, it seems there is no grace
Or you think many are out of space
May be its remains are of trace
Meant for those who set the pace
Working grace is for all
Just that many don't listen to its call
And leads it astray to their downfall
Yet, aligned beings get to stand tall
Someone paid for it
To let go of us- punishment
Our troubles and s
Laid down as the sheep for atonement
He died for our sakes
Without complaining of aches
Yet, for us; wines and breads, he bakes
And our destined home, he makes
That old cattle rustler, called Moron Mick
boasted about his thefts near Sheriff Nick
A noon shootout was planned
Nick had the faster hand
Moron Mick was a boneheaded dipstick
May 6, 2022
High Noon Poetry Contest
Hosted by Joseph May
Death is no joke, nobody can laugh at it
Death is not a he or a she, death is an it
Death is different, death comes like a flash
Death strikes. Death is the fastest thing around
I hate death. Death and friends crash
All types of parties. Death comes with no sound
Death strikes like a misguided or a lost laser
I hate death. Death destroys everything
All the time. Death strikes helicopter
Airplane, car, tank, house, building and ring
I hate death. I am not afraid of death
Death brings a lot of pain and suffering
Death is a thief. Death always finds the depth
Of the soul, the core of the heart
To spread grief, pain, suffering and hurt
I hate death. I wish someone could kill death
It is sad there is too much death, to many thefts
I am out words. You and I are at the top of the cliffs.
Copyright © January 2020, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several poetry collections.
I wanted to write this while crying
But you might misunderstood my cry
My words maybe wanting
My way of thinking also wanting
My English maybe wanting
My pen slowly out of ink
But am sure of one thing
My message is not wanting
If I could be a sacrificial Lamb
I would gladly be
That our sins could be forgiven
That depression be no more
We value and love each other
No more violence no more Cold blood murder
No more theft we practice hard-working
What a peaceful the world would be
Every time I put restrictions on you,
You get upset
You feel I don't have confidence in you,
In your capacity to handle situations
I don't realise that you are grown up...
But that's not the case!
I have seen world longer than you
Looks are often deceptive, that's the shocking truth
Thefts, murder, rape, kidnapping are all very much prevalent
You may think I have negative attitude
But where there is true love, concern automatically comes.
If only you knew what all fears roam around in my mind every time you are late
If only you knew how many times I die every time you don't pick up your phone
If only you understood my concern for your well-being
If only you realised how valuable you are to me...
If only you knew why I am doing whatever I am doing,
you will understand and appreciate my actions.
So I wrote this for you
Always preserve in mind
You are precious to me, verily my life
If anything happens to you
I will never be able to forgive myself
Date: 10/24/2020
I would abolish factories and end money
All would be farmers or artisans
Barter system I will introduce
In case of natural calamities,
nearby villages would have to help
I would plant lot of trees, just like primitive times
Houses would be made of mud and thatch
There would be Wells and borewel wells for water
All would be equal, no caste system
Males and females would be treated at par
Justice would be decided by community through consensus
All would have a right to participate
Pollution would end, food will be organically grown
All doing similar jobs, there would be financial equality
All would have to work to earn two square meal a day
Thefts and fraud would end automatically
Boys would come to girl's house after wedding, resolving lot of current issues
No electricity, people would sleep early
Animals would be killed only for food
All would be hard-working, healthy and happy.
This is my idea of perfect world
it makes me happy although it's imaginary
I wish it would come true
Date: 8/22/2020
THEFTS FROM YOUR HEART - (Long Musical intro)
A broken heart may heal, but the scars are left
Beating, beating, as never forgetting your theft
Wounded; forced to carry on with all of its pain
Alas, reminding that painfully hurt scars remain
Never once rested, as each scar is overstressed
Waiting, waiting, until one is left less distressed
Then all scars harden; like the hurt in your heart
A heart becomes vice like no longer able to start
With the final heartbeats; the scars ripped apart
Exposing the full extent, the thefts of your heart
Indiana Shaw . . .
Lady moon dressed in black
with star children in your lap
are you mourning for the dead
killed by rapists, murderous thefts
hunting beasts of hiding dark
leaving blood and body parts
by your lamp silently watched?
Is it shame for lustful beds
in your mantle hiding nest:
fornicators child molesters
secret lovers present, past
that at times your whiteness
turns red
blushing crimson like sunset?
If for sun you wane and sigh
why then hide when its splendor,
searching rays of pure bright light,
leave no darkness in which to hide?
Mystery mantle of the night
hiding hope beyond far stars
glory, joy, forever love
mourning moon light.
DRUGS
---------
Various drugs for various purposes,
Purpose is lost when it is used wrongly.
Drugs for ailments are widely accepted,
Same for pleasure is totally rejected.
Criminal acts are on the increase,
Rapes, murders, thefts are a few.
Many could be avoided easily,
If drugs are abandoned completely.
Reprimand Addicts and traffickers,
For the good of the society and nation.
Safeguard the youths and addicts,
By eliminating the drug dealers.
Every nation and every citizen,
Should adhere to strict drug policy.
Take severe action against this trade,
And the trade will vanish on its own.
Field mouse woke up. Asleep for many years. It had grown a moustache and side burns. Oh how dreadful cried sally spider peering into the mouse house. How terribly unbecoming and unsuitable for holding the silver goblet at the halibut harlequin hall. Field mouse responded. In mind. In thoughts. Looking into the can that had been dropped into his hole by a two legged fiend. At least it made a good mirror. Although he was grateful that he was out at the time of delivery. The bars above. With the sun. Oh up there. No friend. Oh well. And proceeded to cut customise and shave. With other dropped prizes. Plus thefts. Spider grinned. And manicured herself. Silvery bed. Oh how wonderful. Field mouse in a suit. Spider in gown. Halibut hall. Dance. Supper. Stupors'. And nonsense talk of trapped tapered topiary's traditional traders. Good good good good good. next week new news. Great. Xxxx xylophones xo xo xo. And a half day off work. Great. Deuteronomy z
The Good Newspaper
Bright morning with lovely sunshine,
Garden of my house and the teatime,
Fingers going quick in page flicker,
Eager to read the good newspaper.
A man putting mask to an injured cat,
and the dog full of affection giving a pat,
Compassion in heart of the mankind,
that for years had been mentioned blind.
We have conquered much with thoughts,
Could fly through skies and run on rails,
The good newspaper says we have won on crime,
No more thefts and killings cry of the time.
No rich no poor all blessed alike,
Every life He created with equal delight,
But in unison with all we are living a leisure,
Nature at its best what a pleasure !
No wars no boundaries an end to hatred,
Colour caste and creed no more catered,
No Greed or envy, defy basis of strife,
Living present to full the best rule of life!
Written November 14th, 2014
For contest ' The Good Newspaper' by Mystic Rose
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