Vain tears
they seep in
silent streams
lurk darkly
behind
a repressed
shadowy wail
taunt or tease
fond veils
torn and tattered
seldom worn
visibly
of dull
wistfulness
oe’r silver
passage
or faux gold
bridge
whose
wobbly link
to halcyon
august days
putative ring
mere hollow
bell toll
purported peal
a shallow chime
vanishing vapour
of hazy clang
nocturnal raptures
of mythic maze
bagatelle vacuous
chimera amplified
by skewed perspective
tangents rimmed
by fantasy
______________________________
A faint light begins to appear on the horizon before the sun rises visibly. It is the chariot of sun arriving to herald dawn. A magical happening occurring every day that almost goes unnoticed. But look at the horses that pulled the chariot. They feel, credit goes to them to bring about demise of darkness and breaking forth of light of the day. (Horses symbolize sense organs and the mind minding them, a domain of ego claiming credit for all that happens). The truth is: it is the soul/atman that enables all of it. A voice within seems to say….
_________________________
Hold thy hyped horses
And feel not like a proud frog
Through diurnal courses,
Everything gets laid as logged,
Howl not, thou art but a cog.
_______________________
Musings | 23.05.2026 | day/dawn, darkness, horse, light, sun, Tanka
There once was a man named Dan
rather tall handsome and tan
the girls all did swoon
when Dan chose to croon
not a songbird could even compete.
Though Dan was a man, yes indeed,
came some warnings he chose not to heed,
he was virile and strong
and life rolled along
till this sign appeared visibly.
No chance anymore he'll ignore
time to see the Doc for a cure.
Turns out the Doc starts to laugh,
you are naive my dear young chap,
no reason to panic you see,
just a stiffy, is all it would be!
Out of the smoke that billowed out of the flattened building,
horror was everywhere. Grief stricken, our teacher ordered the few survivors to the prayer building,
but I chose to run away, to my home only a few blocks away,
too shocked to cry, in complete disbelief, lost for a word, when my mother rushed outside and held me tight in her arms, visibly shaken. She took me inside and splashed water on my face, as if to make sure i was not a living dead, then she told me to rest and stay indoor with all the commotion outside, then ran back to school to help, was hit by the second bomb and never came back.
The voices get louder, but I tune them out
I find I tend to do that more often ever since January 15th
I had torn off everything from my calendar after that date
I didn't think I would make it past.
Visibly, I'm still here
But sometimes I still wonder why I held that bottle of pills….
SANGUINE TEMPERAMENTS-:-
phlegmatic
melancholy
perfectus
visibly
reflected
to EXPRESS EUPHORIA
embodied
endured
dispositioned
contemplative
temperaments
as an EMBLEM TRANSCENDED
evokes
references
resplendent
short-lived
paradise
PRETEXTS FOR REFLECTION-:-
luxurious
connections
motivate
intuitively
transcend
WITH HUMOUR
flavour
contemporary
interpretatIons
synthesise
senses
&
IMITATE NATURE
emphasing
coherent
emblems
figure
visibly
Life is a true and pure blessing
Yet, it comes with trials and tribulations
Weighing down heavy on human beings
Struggling to cope with life’s difficult situations
We share this earth with many a soul
In that we have no input , no say
We attempt to surround ourselves with the humans we like best
Try to keep certain individuals at bay
Sadly, we share our planet with some inhumane beings
‘The Unhinged’….the soulless who walk this earth
The ones who view life through blackened eyes
With a black heart and soul that knows no worth
Humans who incite and kill without conscience
Deriving pleasure solely from others pain
Void of remorse, compassion, empathy
Evil like blood…. flows through their veins
The Unhinged are not visibly recognisable
They do not look any particular way
We can only hope and pray that we never cross paths
With The Unhinged on any given day
The white heron, in stark contrast,
became even more visibly white
as it perched on the mud.
Spare a dollar for your thoughts,”
her angelic voice murmured.
His callused hands — firm,
visibly burdened.
“My stomach’s in knots, I’m distraught —
when will my heart stop hurtin’?”
She slides over a coffee-stained napkin;
he grabs it without askin’.
Three small words it simply stated:
Own your story.
He grinned and waited.
“What does this mean, young girl?”
She brushed her silk hair,
tightened her bow.
“That’s for you to find out —
only you’ll know.”
A smile at last came across his face.
“Can I at least get a name?
You can’t leave without a trace.”
She looked in his eyes and said,
“You’ll see me again.”
The man thought — if not now, then when?
The girl straightened her white dressing gown,
got up and left the diner downtown.
For if the man sees her again, he will never know —
some stories are best left untold.
they sit him down, strap the arms,
not the old chair, not the rope—
this is cleaner, scientific,
no blood, no sparks,
just the mask.
the lungs beg first,
pulling at nothing,
a vacuum of sky
swallowing itself.
the heart beats like a busted drum,
then quieter,
the eyes go wet, then far—
a man drowning on land
without water, without storm.
the state calls it mercy.
but death is still death,
as the body visibly shows us.
silent
typical
visibly
passive
an
idealised
profile
so
natural
caressed
by
love
in
faithful
marital
perfection
All of a sudden
The stars have stopped shining
Blimming sadness in Heaven
Too many babies are maimed and hurt
Too many infants are starving and suffering
Too many women are crying and mourning
And too many men are being sought
For summary executions
Where countless elders of the sad nations
Have disappeared without a trace
The pain is excruciating. What a disgrace!
All of a sudden
The sky has become extremely dark
Bloody chaos in Heaven
The cemetery is in the park
The buildings are bombed and bulldozed
For heaven’s sake, too many soldiers are overdosed
Where ships, vessels, yachts, boats and canoes are sunk
Somewhere is buried a dead skunk
Where everything is comatose and decomposed
No one can honestly envision a bright future
Where nobody can dry the tears of Mother Nature.
The stars have stopped shining
The moon is visibly absent
The sun is on strike and fasting
And the weather is eerily aberrant.
Copyright © June 2025 Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.
The man in front of me is a broken one,
and my fingers are drowning in dripping glue,
in cement,
in something meant to hold things
To hold him
To hold myself and others together.
Yet he binds himself
with puppet strings, scotch tape,
and the wet breath of drugs.
Batting at my outstretched
Hands
Dodging the warmth of a true touch,
He flinches.
He bleeds- visibly
and he screams from a
starlight-lost, daydream-blinded face
that I am wrong.
He shoves daggers into my seams,
prying at my wounds.
Burning red and pulsing in purple bruise
Image of a warrior
turned blue.
while leaking he bursts open.
Pain seeping into my sobbing mouth
From his unstitched scars
So easy to tear.
He rips with his own hands
At the both of us
When he does not cover his ears and turn his back
To cradle in a seething silence
Clutching with razor blade hands
the child,
The pained,
Chained, caged pet he swallows with every breath as if I cannot
See the lump in his throat
Or feel the kicking in his chest.
But I am a mountain,
capped in the blood of a hundred storms,
and I will not cave.
I saw you smile,
Now, I'm smiling too
You say so many words.
I know you don't mean all of them.
When you say 'leave',
I know your heart would search for mine.
I don't want to be the distance that measures away from you.
Just smile at me.
I saw you smiling,
Now, I'm smiling too.
Then your face sold a different tune.
I should have avoided being in that frame.
When you say 'what' with the sternest expression.
I still smile because I know your heart will hurt for mine later.
I don't want to go through the stress.
So, just smile at me.
I saw you smiling.
Now, I'm smiling too.
'As much as it seems, that I'm yours'..
The sweetest part of those words was mine.
The former part was you wishing I'd still be there.
That I'll stay when I visibly erode that smile from your face.
But I'll still smile at you because you thought of me that way.
So, please, just smile at me.
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