Dearest Tenser:
Told you I would write you about the weekend.
Pray for them flood peoples and all. But got some news for ya.
She used a chrt to list the men she'd been with. We sat in the dining hall listen to her presentation. It was right before the BBQ.
She went inside and started cooking. Acting like everything was done on tth grill. I didn't say anything when people arived, holding my tougne. That Gal from Dizzies showed up. Dressed like a street thang. Netted jacket, netted pants. "A show stopper one peice", we told her to put Duct tape over the Specail treats cause our men freinds were here. She did it. Got mad when some one said something about it. Well back to thee BBQ. Miss Thang did the cooking. Had Short ribs with wine sauce potatoes and mushrooms. It was good. She cooked the short ribs in the crock pot for six hourss
and smoked a BBQ sauce on the smoker
and and tossed the ribs in
when her company arrived.
Acting like the whole thing was done
outside.
I stood laughing at her
write me back:I gonna meddle into why these pole choose us to be audeince to them.
Sincerly Your Tenser
The Elephant is big and strong
It’s history runs deep and long
But lots of Elephant’s are starting to die
These friendly creatures and I’ll tell you why,
They’re being killed by humans all around
Tusks being sawn off is a harrowing sound
Just for those tusks, they destroy the whole thing
For the sake of an ornament, chess piece or ring
So although you can’t hear it
The elephant cries
Don’t buy the ivory
Because one of us dies.
Everything was upside, down and inside out
Snoopy neighbor heard a scream, and then a shout
Did you investigate? Asked the police.
Of course not, lied their lying niece.
She had sneaked up to their window and seen the whole thing.
But she wanted to save this info to go live on TV with Larry King
I found it curled in the shadow
of what used to be a hospital.
A slow hunch of fur,
the color of old bark—like the forest
had tried to grow itself a question.
It didn’t look surprised to see me.
Just blinked, as if measuring
whether I was worth the glance.
I sat cross-legged beside it,
tore foil from a protein bar—
offered the whole thing,
wrapper and all.
It took the crinkle in two fingers,
held it to the light. Didn’t eat it.
Just listened to the sound
plastic makes in a nuclear breeze.
It exhaled desert globemallow.
A whole Quaternary extinction
in a single breath.
I didn’t ask my question out loud,
but I think it heard anyway.
Do we stand a chance?
The sloth leaned its weight
across a rusted sign
that once read urgent care.
It didn’t speak, but something
about the pinch of its thick,
prehensile lip
said it knew what we’d done—
to the soil, to time, to ourselves.
It forgave none of it.
When it finally turned to leave,
I followed.
Not because I thought
it could save me,
but because it didn’t try to.
No mess is fantastic
Lack of respect leads to war
War is horrific, evil and poor
Racism is not chic
Modern slavery is painful
Hate is awful, hurtful and plentiful
There is no justice
They don’t really want peace
Hypocrisy is ubiquitous
Supremacy is senseless
Discrimination is tasteless
Their audacity is obvious
Corruption is rampant
And the economy decadent
This is absolute chaos
The whole thing is a mess
Less than nothing: worthless
Death shall come. Alas
At last to change the formula
That’s karma
Nothing is eternal
Power is ephemeral
Tomorrow is a song
Belonging to no one
I know I’m not wrong
I am addressing everyone
I am talking to the crowd
Without being too loud
Long live Respect and Peace!
Long live Love and Justice!
Copyright © March 2025, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.
see all the parts of the picture, the whole thing, up and down left and right
have an open mind, read rightly totally the book until its end
with a cool serene mood, swim in , and through the sea of meditation.
It was never meant for us to Judge this Experience,
We Are the Experience of Existence,
The difference,
Within the interference.
Pushing against the resistance,
Leaving a Legacy of our Substance.
Carving characters in time,
Creating your own line.
Take for instance,
Each Instant,
Neutral.
Yours to define,
Uniquely your design.
Every curve and corner,
diverting the color.
The Author,
Writing each chapter.
The Actor,
Playing the Scene.
Encoded within Genes,
Powers go unforeseen.
While fear stays lurking,
Hiding a new way of being.
Time to Intervene,
To get in-between,
Revealing,
Your Experience,
You Are the ONE Governing,
A Physical being experiencing
This Whole thing.
Keep it Clean,
Balance that Machine.
See through the Suffering,
For the Lessons its bringing.
Perception is everything.
Happiness is happening,
When your not Judging,
Your Experience.
The sixties gave us a generation of young
Folk with many questions Why?
Where have all the flowers gone, and is the answer really
Blowing in the wind?
A young man named Dylan tried to make some sense
Of this whole thing,
Yet the nation and world needed more then the words
Peace and brotherhood though it sounded good in a song
It didn’t stop the endless rows of crosses on
Arlington's lawn
The youth watched a young man pledge his word the
Glow of a candle would light the world but we still ask
The question has anybody seen our old friends Abraham Martin and John?
As the young man from Tupelo sang if I can dream of a better
Land well let’s hope one day we can.
Does your world hang low?
Does your humour ebb and flow?
Do you feel like you’re a flop
And you’re drowning down below?
Are your moods like running water
Won’t stay stable when they oughta?
Does your world – hang – low?
Is your life a drag?
Do you feel like a rag?
Does it seem as though you’re flound’ring
Through impenetrable slag?
Is the whole thing never right?
Not worth keeping up the fight?
Is your life – a – drag?
Do you hide your face?
Do you feel a disgrace?
Are you constantly avoiding
Being with the human race?
Has your life degenerated?
And your world disintegrated?
Do you hide – your – face?
Are you fighting back?
Are you taking up the slack?
Will you give in and surrender
Or go back on the attack?
Tell the world it hasn’t mastered
THIS unconquerable bastard!
NOW you’re fight – ing – back!
Why do politicians lie
And our wallets deftly pry,
Puff and bluster all the time
Their intent to cheat sublime.
Are we dumb or just naive
Of that talent to deceive,
Smiles aplenty to go round
While broken promises abound.
Why venerate them so
And not tell them where to go,
Pay good money after bad
The whole thing is rather sad.
When we put them to the test
They begin their quest with zest,
But time passes all too fast
Their resolve's not there to last.
We vote them out and start again
And get another just the same,
This conveyor belt of life
Sure to bring us yet more strife.
What solution may we ask
To complete this ingrate task,
Maybe ply them all with drink
Hoping this will help them think.
As to us, let's tune them out
Find a corner where to shout,
Release the loathing and emotion,
Survive the show and the commotion.
Let's be real and rather blunt
Lest our message we might stump,
There is another old profession
That earns its money by the session.
We might as well embrace the ride
Taking bumps full in our stride,
For if we blot out all the noise
They become mere soulless voids.
On a beautiful day, skies clear and blue, stood two tall towers, twins so true. But up above something was awry, a boeing 767 had taken to the sky. But in this big plane all was not fine, because a group of people had crossed a line. These people were all terrorists, and horrible ones at that! They were called Al Qaeda and their goal was a splat! They wanted to send a message and kill important people, we all know it's bad, just downright evil. Hijacking the plane, crashing was their game. The damn whole thing was a downright shame. At 8:45 they hit the first tower, and the second plane hit right on the hour. Passengers aboard were all killed, so much innocent blood was spilled. First responders came to the scene. Smoke and bodies and not much else to be seen. Thousands injured, thousands dead. That day in history is now stained red. Those 3000 went up to heaven, on the day we know as 9/11.
Well the left bit’s connected to the back bit
And the back bit’s connected to the right bit
And it all fits together on the base bit
Then you turn the whole thing over for the top bit
The bit that goes inside looks like it might fit
So stick it in and hope that it’s a tight fit
Then these four little round bits, each a floor bit
Must be said at best they are a poor fit
This bit must go somewhere but it won’t fit
And this bit is apparently the door bit
There’s a bag of little bits they call a screw kit
The leaflet says there’s sixteen screws that you fit
No wonder nothing seemed to be a good fit
Now I’m feeling stupid and a right nit
So I took it all apart and grabbed a screw bit
Screwing screw bits where I need a screw fit
Oops, I see the top bit isn’t well fit
I think I’ve used the top bit as the shelf bit
Now I think I’ve gone and lost a floor bit
And the hinge bits will not fit into the door bit
Now I’ve got to fit the little latch bit
But it seems it hasn’t got the catch bit
I’m at the point at which I wanna burn it
So I’ll take it all apart…
and then return it
You offered a piece,
Tempting, but I resisted,
I want the whole thing.
Lucky Orange’s nickname was El Oh 3.
He was so lively and quick, a great steed for me.
We would travel all day, and he never got tired.
He was a Gemini, so energetic and high-wired.
El Oh 3 and I would gallop all over the place.
I am sure we could have run the Kentucky Derby Race.
His bright orange color disqualified him every time.
This was said by the head official, a man of slime.
I knew they were fearful we would win the whole thing.
El Oh 3 was my favorite horse, a giant, a king.
He went to heaven at the amazing age of twenty-one
Memories of him and me help me feel our fun.
Inspiring as it is
To be around the alive,
The whole thing does feel
Just a little contrived
I think rather be dead instead
Found by a wife,
Asleep
In a bed
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