Truth is a dagger—painful,
yet healing when it cuts deep.
History does not lie:
the Imperial Japanese Army,
once a beast of discipline and fire,
marched on arrogance,
believing steel could bend the world.
But time betrayed them.
China, unarmed, hungry,
with no advanced weapons,
stood in defiance,
its discipline sharper than any blade.
And when the dust settled,
it was China, scarred yet unbroken,
who rose from the ashes of war.
Now, eighty years hence,
the drums resound again.
Parade of steel,
columns of might—
Putin watches, Kim nods,
and the world is forced to witness:
“The China of yesterday is no more.
The China of today rules the century.”
Is this victory,
or a warning written in banners of red?
The West whispers,
“If you cannot beat them, join them.”
But Japan, silent,
remembers the shadow of its past.
Nations bow not to friendship,
but to power.
And power, once attained,
rules the stage like an emperor.
So I ask—
when the dragon leads the march,
who dares to stand against its fire?
HEART SINKS, EYES WEEP
BRAIN EXPLODES, CAN’T SLEEP
DON’T UNDERSTAND, I NEVER WILL
SWEET CHILDREN WHY DO THE COPS KILL?
CHILDREN WITH DARK SKIN
HARDLY LET THEIR LIVES BEGIN
INNOCENT, UNARMED, SIXTEEN AND UNDER
COPS CALL IT A BLUNDER
MISTAKE THEY SAY
CHILDREN BEATEN OR SHOT TO DEATH IN USA
There will come a time
when your reflection feels like home again.
You’ll open the door
to what you've been avoiding for years—
and it will be you, standing there,
unarmed, unashamed.
You will take out the old stories
you tucked away
and read them with new eyes,
not the ones who loved you then,
but through the quiet voice that has always seen you
and held you through the silence.
This time, you’ll sit
not to fill the space,
but to be present with the truth
you’ve been swallowing whole.
Receive. Settle.
Let the hunger finally rest.
Mr. Glock committed a crime
its accomplice got away
It could not speak for itself
the defense attorney
entered a plea of innocent
by reason of no limbs.
The judge set bail in bullets
I had an extra magazine and chipped in
Mr. Glock was released with an ankle monitor
that it wore around its neck.
It was told to stay a barrel's length away from the victim
In which it easily complied.
After sentencing it was melted down
into a modern age relief
then put on display...
"public enemy number 1" it said.
Soon after, Mr. Wesson
committed a similar crime, with the very same accomplice.
He was arrested, the accomplice smiled at the security camera
and is still on the lamb.
He's considered temporarily unarmed and always dangerous.
My fragmented heart defied my mind's authority
A gloomy transformation carved from sorrow's blood
Dopamine disappears while endorphins are the minority
The down feeling crashes in like an uncontrolled flood
An unwelcomed intruder colonizing my obedient body
I routinely succumb to your callous commands
An old foe by the former name of melancholy
Like a sponge you absorb my joy unarmed
Your fourth unsolicited visit in fourteen years
The voice of my normality fades in your shadow
Familiar with your punishment I become immune to fears
The heat of your rule coerces my heart to feel mellow
I forbade hopelessness to assert its voice in my head
Through gruntled teeth I allow my pride to fall instead
Antidepressants forces a ceasefire in our internal war
Tranquility pushes you out through my heart's aluminium door
I embrace peace knowing It too visits but does not stay
For I know you will return again in a few years from this day
It's always at dawn
It's always in the shadows
That the criminals rob
The innocent as well as the guilty
It's deep in the dark night
That we forget on the table
The suppers of the werewolves in disguise
And the unarmed gendarmes
For the carnival, for the feast
When blood turns to wine
Where we imitate the wedding feast of Canaan
Oh! Poor, we see the wicked pass by
And the assassins under the bridges
Who flee and flow like rascals
Oh! Poor, he's dead
The dead, are they always wrong
At dawn?
What a disgrace
For the month of October
Oh! Tis the season when we change our robe
Oh! Poor, he's dead
The dead, are they always wrong?
P.S. Translation of ‘ Toujours À L'Aube' by Hébert Logerie.
Copyright © July 2021, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.
Under the Palestinian Olive Trees
They cut down the trees and shoot the farmers, unarmed, in the belly in plain view of IDF soldiers relishing the moment. Here in the West Bank, human rights is exiled and devoured by the fury of Torah-toting violent settlers spewing venom.
How sweet it is to die under the shades of their olive trees,
Binding them to their tortured history, and the wind that blows the branches dancing, oblivious to the daily terror, beating their conspiracy.
The olive trees whisper stories of love,
the hills sing ancient hymns,
witness to a message of hate planted by the separation walls,
thinking they would sink the farmers into submission.
But, the farmers watch, children keep playing, and the ghosts of centuries
past are guardians of the land.
Some choose to wear a soldier’s camouflage
And take their country’s coin
all to defend a Politian’s ideology
While ordinary civilians die
Sisters without brothers
Mothers without sons
Children sent to foster homes
If the bombs have left them homes unarmed
Your deity will not help or take the pain away
His mortal representative will just stand over your grave and pray
"Colour"
How to disappear completely;
wrap yourself in a comforting
blanket of words, the clouds form
easily like fog enticing you
back into the dream of all things,
you fall into it deeply, like you
would fall into the arms of love,
wanting and not wanting,
falling barefoot and scarred
into the walking dreams
of poetry codexes reading it all,
everything, below and above like John 1,
but you are Jane Doe and the others,
well, they are a kaleidoscope
of words armed and unarmed,
songs unclear, poetically muffled,
different shades and shadows,
different, yet all bleeding
into the same colour,
aware and unaware,
wrapped up in their
blankets of words,
there is safety in
numbers, they think
light exposed, naked
all different in depth
and colours; yet,
the brush strokes down,
then upward
from the same
palette
(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
Leaders of the world listen to what I say
A global tragedy is surely on its way.
Innocent people being murdered in surprise attacks
Unarmed children murdered that couldn't fight back.
Schools being targeted hospitals too. no medicine for
The injured what are we to do
People dead in the street bodies bleeding and torn
Family trying to cope with no time to Moyrn.
The time has past to point the blame. Because leaders of the world your all the same
Now is the time to make a stand and get your head out of the sand.
Tell these terrorist enough is enough and if they persist
You must get tuff.
So leaders of the world you know what your meeting
For. to stop this pointless killing and put an end to
WAR
Neither here nor there
The mind stuck in time
Floating through
Drifting
Reaching
Stretching to touch
Unarmed
Vulnerable
Exposed
Yet I am the only one that can see and feel
Flashes of a glimpse
Trapped in a vision
A million or more of emotions
Feelings rush to change
But I don’t want to.
As I Dream Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Mystic Rose Rose
Date: 08/06/2022
I looked around, and all I heard was a silence sounding.
I listened carefully, but all I saw was the darkness surrounding.
Beyond all the pain, all I felt was my heart pounding.
The stress and strain rain down, leaving me broken and bruised
Then left drowning.
But I swam.
In the swarm of silence
Surrounded by the Damned.
I am unarmed and they are violent.
There are no alarms,
but the screams are like sirens.
I cannot see my hànds
but I can feel the pain in my arms.
My back feels broken I cannot stand
but inside this fire rises
beyond the brightest stars.
I began to understand
The Light will always shine in Silence,
No matter how Dark.
The Russians Are Coming
The Russians are coming, tremble in fear
Hide your jewelry, washing machines, beer
But their army is weak, only fights the unarmed
We should take them out and all they’ve farmed
The Russians are coming, animals from the east
But they’re brains are deformed an insane beast
Morons with weapons what do you expect?
We allowed this, gave too much respect
A criminal in charge of a murdering race
Stab you in the back and lie to your face
Russia be proud for all you have done
Steal kids clothes take them home to mum
And you, you women, with husbands and sons
Who’s a pretty boy, rape who you want
Well justice is coming, well on its way
The civilized won’t forget, you're going to pay.
David Cox 22/05/22
Armed to kill with their guns and batons,
How can we defend ourselves against them,
Hooligans in uniforms with weapons,
Police preaching peace and protection,
Yet proving themselves a constant contradiction,
As they beat up defenseless innocence,
And are feared by the mayority of the nation.
Who protects the people from the police?
Why are violent thugs given authority?
We give them the power, we let them be,
Turn a blind eye when your friend leaves the cells,
Battered, bruised, black and blue,
No questioning the law, too scared to sue,
There would be less danger on the streets,
If we unarmed the police,
If we took back our own authority, of our lives,
Realise that its our choice,
To continue believing the hype,
Why should we live in fear and lose our independence?
I refuse to abide when I dont agree,
I refuse to conform,
How can it be a crime to disobey,
This means that we are slaves?
Freewill is inexistent nowadays,
I wouldnt want to bring a child to this world,
Where infants are anulled to become consumers,
Slaves who keep the cog turning...
Its sad, but we are born into a prison.
Peace or Problems
Do we want peace or just more problems? Whatever shall it be?
We will always have our differences, that is a strength for all to see.
There are countries in this world, where freedom has all been lost.
This happens when people are unarmed, it ends with a terrible cost.
If you lived in North Dakota, you would never have such fear.
We are armed with rifles and scopes, which are used for hunting deer.
I have made running headshots for years, many over 300 yards.
There are 30 guns in my home, government control is not in the cards.
Every household out here is armed, some more heavily than mine.
If I ever run out of ammo, I have strong dogs who will hold the line.
I have no fear of government, this is my home, and I will never run.
We will always be invincible; I am protected by God and my gun.
We can stay warm without any grid; we know how to live off the land.
We are a formidable force, not just some little boy band.
I think we should all get vaccinated, that is just what I believe.
But I will die for your right to choose, my convictions will never take leave.
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