Half Time
A warning from the winds,
What the spirit carries: no fumbles.
It brings the stories of the sun to the touchdown!
Lessons from the huddle, from the coach,
Under a lunar eclipse.
Last game of the season,
In the third quarter-
We scramble for the setup.
Because our die-hard fans watch,
and our fragile lives loom on it.
Then, the snap.
The stadium noise fades into silence.
No roar from the fans, just a sigh in the air.
The inner motion of the play
is as the ball arches upward.
Suspended above the green turf.
A leap for the pylon, reaches for the end zone.
Where the home team claims its own.
The stadium clock strikes zero,
Frozen inbound waiting for their hero.
For the final score.
Do bees feel upset like us,
Or feel anxious when their brain perceives a threat?
Do they feel bored when making honey,
Or feel tired for being too active?
Does silence press upon their wings,
Like fear of not arriving alive?
Do they notice absence gently,
A missing rhythm in the air?
Do they search the dusk for someone,
And find nobody there?
"Do they?"
Is all I ask.
Sometimes, when I'm upset, I feel like pulling the sun down,
To yank the rays from its tousled hair with a dreamy frown.
Lip vibrations—apologies lament the color in my veins,
My thoughts fly, uncultured, like lost birds in night’s dark lanes.
Your mind, styled by my trivial foolishness, spins around,
My lazy thoughts, twisted words, in chaos are bound.
My brewing winds, acute crises of epileptic flair,
Like any earthbound soul, child or creature in despair.
Each with a mind full of rotten resignation,
Stories are guides between us, an endless connection.
Pagan shepherds invade the lazy Christian sheep,
They club my good thoughts, like dreams in beauty steeped.
Propped up in a future, somber, controversial, and abstract,
When I slip the world's Apocalypse into your womb, an intact pact,
A hidden longing, in unseen abysses it’s stored,
The world changes, but our love cannot be ignored.
No variation in this dark tomb
Spinning in orbit of loss and the need for needing
Grey spirits begging for my healing
Grey spirits crawling along the ceiling
Madness is my adaptation
Lost in the essence of essential reverence
Lost spinning for a need of your presence
Chased by the haunting past and present
Here I come to loom
No variation in this broken tomb
Here in my room
A star never loses its shine,
You can never ever compare it
to beer and wine.
We love its glow, we also love it,
when its fire.
That's the impact of a pure thing.
We may love less,
but we can never stop loving.
The same is true with God,
same as with the faith.
Sometime we get upset,
but we never forget the
mysteries of God.
Yes, life is mysterious,
we may not understand it,
but we can still enjoy it in every way.
L-ord
O-f
Vortex
E-motions
My birthday again,
Such a pleasant time.
I watch the clock tick,
And I listen to their rhymes.
No screaming,
No harm.
No nothing, yet everything is present.
Watching me beadily as I unwrap my sadness.
This year will be the happiest,
A box of food that I won't eat,
And a stuffed animal for me to cry into.
Did they forget?
My birthday was weeks ago.
A day by myself.
Sat alone.
A day by myself,
Where I learn to grow.
Grow independent, and strong alone.
Alone.
Alone.
Alone.
I don't wish to be alone,
As I unwrap my gift.
I'm thankful the people have come.
Though I wish they got it right,
That would be so nice.
If they cared for once,
At all.
Happy birthday to me,
They are filled with glee.
But shouldn't I be the one filled with joy?
Bad news is swallowed
With a grain of sour salt
Good news is absorbed
With a chalice of sweet honey.
We’re exhausted and disappointed
We’re out of words and stamina
Hope is put in parenthesis for now
And we feel that the future is very far.
Bad news is goggled and spat out
Our saliva is dehydrated and dry
Yet, like old soldiers, no sacrifice
Is too great to face the future.
Copyright © November 2024, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of numerous collections of poetry.
You said you love me, but you acted
As if you’re not; you were so sweet
But then inversely reacted:
Without a word you cancelled me.
It came to me out of the blue
What might have happen to upset
A person that is loving you
Who’s more obedient than your pet
Its well established now, to cancel
A common form of disrespect
And it can cause a circumstantial
Or quite substantial effect
For what, my love? How can it be?
A string of questions goes, impaling
My poor mind, and I can’t see
A reason for this ethics, failing
To understand an awful truth
If I’ve become your job of patience
A luggage bag you dreamt to lose
Somewhere at the railway station.
Poems were written about First
Epistle to Corinthians by Paul.
what we did was drift
all sins through we had to sift
love from God would lift
when with deep regret
sinners are always a threat
making us upset
what God does intend
when life here on earth will end
to heaven ascend
with God we should stay
when sinners always shall stray
He is the only way
I should be happy
something inside doesn't chime
easy feeling
The mice came running in from Timbuktu and Kalamazoo
The farmer mice from the country fields came in too.
What if we run out of food? What will we do?
We’ll send you to the store said my Auntie Blue.
What if the humans get upset? A little one said.
The grown mice laughed it up until their faces were red.
When they see all of us, they will take to a bed.
And put all the covers and blankets over their head.
nature so upset
it is spring and is snow wet
~ did you just forget
oh how can it snow
when above sun is a glow
~ with green grass to mow
I have planted seeds
for my garden this heart bleeds
~ but growing like weeds
it is not winter
nature we have a problem
~ also not quite spring
snowflakes are falling
like sweet kisses from heaven
~ give winter a kick
lets get back on track
tomorrow I expect spring
~ enough is enough
Mommy, don't be upset
When they say how you should stand, sit and eat
While I munch on your blood and meat.
Just don't be upset
When they advise you on when I should be fed.
You alone know when my tummy needs bread
Mommy, don't be upset
When they say I was born lean or bulky, dark or fair
And force home remedies and weird aftercare
Just don't be upset
When they judge you for the cuts on your belly
Or the amount of milk generated by your body.
Don't be upset
When they rebuke you for keeping me on diapers
Or nag about your choices right from mittens to rompers.
I know how you guarded me for nine months
Every time I kicked from inside, your heart went nuts
When my poor latching has hurt your nipples,
I felt the wetness of your tears on my nerves.
We ate and slept together
We screamed and sang together
I was in your belly and you were in my blood
To meet each other, we worked as a team and laboured.
Now, who are they to make you feel low?
No, whatever they say doesn't help us grow.
Just don't be upset, Mommy.
We'll do only that, what is best for us!
I'm allergic to upset.
Can't figure what it serves.
My temper flares, my pulse rate soars,
And messes with my nerves.
I'm allergic to upset.
Can't see what good it brings.
It ties my stomach up in knots,
And 'round my gills I'm green.
Today I won't get upset.
Won't let in chagrin.
I'll deal with all things as they come,
And strive for peace within.
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