Thoughts behave like patterned clouds
gently waft across a clear blue sky
Poetic verse must forthwith be recorded,
or exit brain and quickly pass you by
The predicament arises
when involved with other tings
Must address the urge to run upstairs,
write down the latest verse, immediately it rings
It's almost like a a burst of diarrhoea
not endured for many years, a hasty urgent caper
Apply the term poetic diarrhoea
the outcome of each is they use up reams of paper
The wind in our hair
Some excitement was what we were craving
Got more than we bargained
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
Mind opens the floodgates, words wobble in poetic surge.
Be not drawn in other directions be not' for such' or other cause
Or any external wars.' Make fixing your country the ultimate
Chore..Call out corruption.' And examine your laws return
To God give Him trust, He will guard the shires and
Your soverign shores.'
It’s so strong
The urges
The addiction
Weak in what merges
Me
To only have to ask to forgive me
Perfection is far from me
No it’s Not easy to admit
But the truth isn’t hard to see
But you’re still here
With me
Your patience is authentic
Seeing the pain in your eyes
When I ask and do
Embarrassed is my truth
Yet I still go and do
Forgive me
The blame is only in me
I'M A UNSUCCESSFUL PERSON,
WHO CANT EVEN TAKE STAND FOR HERSELF.
I'M A QUITE PERSON,
WITH THOUSANDS OF THOUGHT RUNNING,
IN MY MIND.
I'M A TOUGH PERSON,
WITH FULL OF EMOTIONS BEATING,
MY HEART FAST.
I'M THE FACE OF HAPPY PERSON,
WITH UNHAAPY FEEL,
MAKING ME HURT.
I'M STRONG PERSON,
WEAK FROM INSIDE,
HIDING MYSELF TO THE WORLD.
The clock ticks, and I sit, it’s 1 AM,
A silent treatment to the passing time.
Tomorrow, something I cannot touch.
Where will I be? Who will I become?
The question haunts me but calms me
Like quiet waves.
Yet I remain here,
In this cold chair, at this cluttered desk,
Staring at the pages.
The same as yesterday.
The world outside spins,
And yet I’m here,
Bound to the routine I know is hard.
But I remain full of hope
That pushes me forward, a false promise.
I study words, equations, dates,
As if they hold the key to my future.
But deep inside, I know
No chapter, no test,
At the end of the day,
I’ll still be here with nothing.
Tomorrow is a question,
A riddle I will never solve.
Yet I crave to solve it.
Now it’s 2 AM.
One hour has passed.
I am still here.
Still I wait with hope,
Though I know it’s useless.
Ah! All fades away,
nothing remains...
but carved names
into cold stones!
The scent of evening's kisses,
the touch of trembling hands
also drift away
into pretty sunsets!
Intertwined souls
in passionate urge
make moaning surge;
no crickets sound distracts,
no moonlight gets admiration:
we're taken by wild temptation!
Reimagining times
that have passed
can give us the illusion
that dreams are back
in form of butterflies;
and we become children
chasing them on meadows!
Now, this flashback
makes us regret we are old
and we can't be those kids
running after them 'till dark
as they continue to spark!
Intertwined souls
in passionate urge
making moaning surge;
no crickets sound distracts,
no moonlight gets admiration:
we're taken by wild temptation!
I want to disappear into oblivion
Into an abyss so deep, I forget my own name
I wish to fall so far, I no longer know how to speak
When I open my mouth, no words will echo
Not one thought
Just darkness
Hallucinogenic hymnals;
I hear you, you mirror angels
as you sit shadowed by candles;
Lost to scandals, lost to scandals;
An urge to sin makes me whimper;
With a vile of Holy Water
you touch me with a soft whisper,
‘I will love her, I will love her.’
The people who write,
for no apparent reason,
thinking maybe
that they are just wasting their life
scribbling down what the world calls poetry
or some other dumb name.
The people who write stuff,
if asked why?
No doubt could not say for sure.
Those people
if they had to stop writing
for any reason at all,
would take up knitting,
or woodwork
and probably
would not be very good at it.
Addiction is not a pretty word
But when it accompanies love
It has a different connotation
I want to add love to addiction
Or augment addiction to love
To make things sweeter, my Lord.
I learned not to be addicted to no one
But it is alright to be addicted to God
But it is fine to be addicted to love
Love is a panacea, so is the Almighty God
Addiction is of course a toxic poison
Which can send anybody in a deadly grove.
Addiction is an insatiable or craving urge
To do something, usually it is not a good one
Addiction is definitely to have the feelings surge
In an abnormal or uncontrollable way like no one
Has ever endured. It is painful and debilitating
Even when joined with love, it’s not a fun thing.
Copyright © January 2024, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several poetry books.
A deep introspection turned into poetry --Harsha
Motivating yourself is art,
Motivating others is a mankind mission,
Healing yourself is recovery ,
Healing others is serving God..
What do you do with the urge,
WHAT DO YOU DO WITH THE URGE!
Ask Max Webster.
Sometimes I have this urge
The urge to cry aloud
I do not let it purge
I fight that big, black cloud
That tempestuous surge
Does totally enshroud
Till I am on the verge
Of being, by tears, cowed
I let myself submerge
In emotions that shroud
In time, I will emerge
Stronger than any crowd
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