who is having a birthday party at this crazy zoo?
I thought it might be my archrival, Gorilla Sue
But no, it was a tiny llama who had just arrived
Into the birthday cake that creature dived.
He had frosting all over his snout, face and nose
There were sprinkles of all colors on his toes
You are the next birthday someone said to me.
I had been her six years without one. Big whoopee
It’s about Iran, once again
I’m not pro-war or for bloodshed
Destruction for and many dead
When nations stop, expend resource
And hands are forced without recourse
A war is bad for all involved
Men lost while problem’s being solved
Angst, fright, despair - they all reign
While bombs come down like a rain
But war is tool, when talk’s no more
The threat is huge, command is “draw”
The fiend is bold, defiant, brash
And your existence he wants trashed
Been’ vicious to its own folks
While spreading carnage like a smoke
You can’t sit idle and ignore
Once done, they will be at your door
Like-minded scum gets to rejoice
They all gang up, you know the boys
To push, to conquer and assault
Can’t let this happen, else our fault
We may be wrong, we may be right
But do what’s proper, get to fight
And may the History be judge
Whoever wants may hold a grudge
Aim for the nukes to rule the world?
Fast-spreading cancer is unfurled
Then war is scalpel, use or die
The answer to the question “why?”
March 3, 2026
God laughs when fools behave like racists
All persecuted individuals are His children
God laughs when a few are obviously chosen
And receive preferential treatment under the basis
That the lighter complexion is superior and better.
God created one race. The same blood flows like a river
In all God’s children veins. This blood is red, not amber
God laughs when a few are obviously chosen
All persecuted individuals are His children
The lighter shade is neither superior nor better.
Fools love to divide, to disunite in order to conquer
God laughs when extremists comport themselves like fools
God does not like when his children are treated like tools
All persecuted individuals are His children
God laughs when a few are deliberately chosen.
Copyright © May 2025 Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.
Ben the bull was gentlemanly and debonair
He had a unique personality, he filled the air
The others in the barnyard got out of his way
He marched though the fences, big and gay
With his blue silk scarf from the farmer’s wife
And his fancy patchwork jacket, he had a good life
He wore a fashionable rip in one leg of his jeans
His diet was not like the others, he had fancy beans.
Why is he treated better than all of us? Asked a chick.
His rooster father tried to shush this observant hick.
No one talked about it but this is the USA
Where the biggest bullies now get ahead these days.
I wish I could plug
A flash drive in your ear.
I would wipe clean the worries
Hidden deep inside there.
I know they've been hiding
In camouflaged space.
Your very own virus
firmly in place.
Spreading infection
Every which way.
Squeezing the happy
Right out of the way.
It's time to recover,
Diminish your pain.
Pick up your tools.
Reclaim your domain.
Before long, I promise,
With daily scans,
You'll reboot and function
With plenty of ram.
*"A weight that grows roots in the marrow,
where light, though called, will not tread.
Doctors offer keys of rust and glass,
each turning in a lockless door.
It is the echo of remedies past,
the hollow sound of hope unfound,
where the mind is both prisoner and warden,
whispering a cure that never comes."*
conflicting concepts invade my well-being,
making it harder and harder to think.
the number on the scale,
thoughts about wondering if I am pretty or ugly,
one or the other has to be a lie.
finding out if I deserve to live or deserve to die, causing me to wonder why.
why do I have this life?
why do I have this body?
every day, I sink lower and lower into the abyss I classify as depression.
the parasite gnaws at my mind, its claws pressing deeper into my chest.
the power it holds over me is concerning.
to think I once thought I was in control.
once I thought I held the reins and called the shots,
only for me to find out I was the puppet all along.
I don’t know how to escape. I don’t know if I even want to escape.
conflicting concepts invade my well-being,
making it harder and harder to think.
I watched you walk away that night
Then later had a dream
We were sitting in a sauna
Wearing robes while enshrouded in steam
Then one thing led to another
And soon it all quickly progressed
'Til we were only left standing enshrouded
I think you can figure the rest
The strange caricature reminds me of your odd face,
The twinkling roar clings to your tiny lace.
The way you want to lean on my race,
The sacred passion gives me a new space.
The only path I have seen,
One and only desire you could have been,
One and only proportion you own for the time being,
I am no one else until you see me clearly giving.
The endless life is a paradox of gorgeous wings,
You are no longer out of control for the measured pings.
The unholy genuineness gives me no more rare bliss,
The unknown appetites are the reason for my irregular gist.
It is not common or ordinary anymore,
It is not filled with hate at its core.
It is no longer my salient reason,
No reason can ease my aggressive tension.
Why can I not settle for less?
Why are you not something obvious to bless?
Why don't you know my name until I remind you of the same?
Why can't you see me as nothing more than a dice in this game?
Radiation lobby,
filled with unspoken sense.
I see a community of fighters and partners.
The partners are
the curious who know.
They sit using books as blinders,
or sitting watching others.
They are family waiting.
The fighters are strugglers,
arriving with smiles or stone faces.
They are:
slow walkers
fast walkers
chair riders
cane holders,
or with chemo caps,
or cancer wigs.
Travelers
funneling through a journey of hope.
Given by greeters and nurses.
Cancers lessen
by treatment with
radium and cobalt sessions.
And then a bell rings,
for someone,
radiation is ending.
Now there is a light around you,
and you are free.
Still, we think of new others,
a cycle continues
with new faces same faces,
until cancer fades,
with no traces.
A young Koala named Joey
had an upset stomach ohwie.
She fed him poop soup,
a poothie to boot.
Now he is handsome and showy!
grandson sleeps on couch, wrapped up like a tortilla -
guest rooms are empty
The cruel Prince Basil sat in his castle
Weaving a wonderful web of lies
Making offers to share his coffers
Taking everyone there by surprise
Hopeful gals and guys with stars in their eyes
Were expecting to be well rewarded
Now they would know he would never let go
Of all the gold and jewels that he hoarded
When refusing to pay day after day
Soon his subjects no longer believed him
With tempers lathered the masses gathered
And of his lying head they relieved him
Go, transcend limit
Sacrifice, push for good life,
Happy end commit.
Treat trash as it deserves
with dexterity and cleanness
with the nobility of those who served us...
Trash is also rich
in recycling done well...
Don't treat it worthless trash
don't be sloppy verbose
Waste can and should be reused
there is something luxurious in trash....!
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