I call myself a word girl, because words touch me
in many different ways, but memories is the biggest one
It is very interesting the tidbits of information
that your mind will hold from yesterday
Songs, poems, quotes, commercials, and catch phrases
can all take you back in time at a moment's notice
I like to listen to the classic rock station in
my car for just that reason, an old favorite
will put a smile on my face, not just for the
familiar lyrics, but for the memories it invokes
I often respond to my cat's pleas for more food
with the Meow mix commerical's theme song,
and he looks at me like I've lost my mind
My nephew also thought I was odd when I started
singing "Plop, plop, fizz, fizz, oh what a relief it is"
after a family member handed me some alka seltzer
for an upset stomach
So, I think I will "ride like the wind" and do my errands
for the day because "Life is a journey, not a destination"
Let's watch the snow melting
It's wonderful and very nice
The nightingales are back
The sun warms the day
The weather is great. It is mild
In the streets where kids are playing
Football and girls are jumping ropes
It's nice out. It's a glorious spring
Let's hum the songs of yesteryear
Together harmoniously.
The air is good and fresh this morning
After the breakfast of hot buttered
Petits pains and latte
We go to the platform on the quay
To skate, to see and witness
The comings and goings of the small sailboats. It's dark
At the bottom of the ocean where the fish intertwine
The weather is nice. It is springtime
Let's sing the chorus of the old days
Together melodiously.
Copyright © March 2021, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.
Wallowing with worries of yesteryear
Is mowing lawns no longer there
Memory moves us where we yearn -
A universe to which we cannot return –
To exhume corpses of our youth
And reverse adamantine truth
Where have all the Gods gone
from yesteryear or days of yore
in their way back in the day
they were there to the fore
most were unbelievable
a plethora a pantheon
the rest of them incredible
one for each and all to pray upon
but did they lose face or their lustre
fall from grace mislay their magic
now long-forgotten
it's almost tragic
as no more crusades inquisition
worship ritual or sacrifice
goes to show religionists
can and will turn in a trice
and what was once believed
no longer holds thrall
yet everything in time succumbs
they all rise and fall
it's nothing new
today's will too
we stood alone
that's how hunger works
we craved attention
a little praise
when i think back
we could have banded
we could have been strong
but we didn't
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
Yesteryear cannot deny
memories soft as lullabies
Dreams and wishes began to fade
as tomorrow overtakes yesterday
Wiser maybe foolish still
stubbornness strengthens will
Love and loss of life's way
haunts the stillness of today
Bitterness of overkill
sweetness of exciting thrills
Words spoken in haste
love lost never replaced
I see your face in places been
idle day dreams of us when
Selfish hateful me you taunt
as I pleaded was you I want
Gone from me you tore away
I knew you would not stay
the days grow short nights long
was loving you so, ever wrong
Found others to replace the need
but I looked in them for you to see
No matter how good they were to me
all my love was to deceive
The snow is falling winds are brisk
I walk alone in winters mist
Cold I feel as cold is my heart
yesteryear of you will not depart.
Thought I perhaps should let all my friends see,
How touched I was on finding this letter to me,
Found by mistake, after so many years,
I collapsed into buckets of tears,
A treasure bequeathed to me, was meant to be.
POST-SCRIPT:
As the writing is faint
in the scan above I have typed it out
for ease of legibility.
Abu Ben Adhem
(poem by Hunt, James Henry Leigh)
(1784-1859)
Has been translated in Greek by
Dimitrios Stais (as per manuscript
in possession of his son Panos Stais)
This small note is sent to
Jennifer Alan Hunt, the great
grand-daughter of Dimitri
Stais.
Of course, poems of many other
authors of this "English Verse"
Oxford Book were translated
in Greek by Dimitris Stais,
but I simply make mention of
the one titled as above because
of the author's name. (HUNT)
May I express the
wish, dearest Jennifer, that
one of the future editions of
Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch
comprise some of your cherished
poems.
With lots of love
your gd father
Panos
Athens 19th December 1968
There are some to ignore the past,
As if those roots never fed the vine.
Yet they'll recall a former landscape,
Where harmony existed, everything was just fine.
But this time-traveling effort begs the question,
As to just when we should turn the clock back?
Because no two can agree on a time frame,
So the answer becomes a historical hack.
Now it's been seen where success has occurred,
While traveling backwards with women's rights.
Taking away her given reason to control her body,
I guess it's better if she no longer fights.
This Time-Machine seems to work judicially,
As a time-warp has bent the Supreme Court.
Where twisted logic has decided that a President,
Can rule a kingdom, with no one to report.
So who needs to look towards the future,
When we have a MAGA time machine to dwell on the past.
We might as well stop worrying about tomorrow...
Since yesterday may become our last.
Yesteryear mixed dulcet days with bitterly sour moments.
Zesty and tart as lemons, but tempered with honeyed memories.
This year, I will only journey through sweet orange orchards.
Casting my mind back many a year
To childhood days spent catching bees
Those long gone memories do bring a tear
Playing with friends in the summer breeze
A simple jam jar, air holes pierced in the lid
Laden with clover and blades of green grass
To catch a bumblebee, shear delight for a kid
Observing him carefully through the transparent glass
Like little scientists we named differing species
Terminology I can still recall to this day
What a pleasure it is to remember these
Adventure along the hills was our kind of play
It saddens me today to see young minds so numbed
Lush fields of green devoured and disappeared
To technology, children have now succumbed
Our beautiful world has been commandeered
Whilst walking upon a small meadow of green
I spotted a young boy with a glass jar in his hand
My eyes were aghast at what I’d just seen
It seems there’s still hope upon the land
I watched from afar as he examined his catch closely
Suddenly releasing him and away he did fly
With a loving smile, the boy waved him off joyfully
As I meandered off into the distance, wiping a tear from my eye
On Valentine's Day, February 14
I gifted you a single red rose
That symbolized my single heart
I still remember
Our pleasure and passion
We’ve flown and will fly together
Under similar sun and moon
That red rose cherishes
My true love
Everblooming in my heart
True love should not be refreshed
That's why on this February 14
I don't have a new red rose
Nor a new wedding ring
To grace your finger again
The single rose
The single love
Is for a lifetime!
You've aged well with Conviction
Guarding your yesteryears
of residential Presbyterian Thornton Heath in 58
and Kennards in the town centre
Bygone Croydon days
with Grants and Allders, crown jewels
and Beatles at the festive Fairfield Halls 63
and Young Conservatives 64 in Purley
I've been wanting to call you,
but the rolodex was trashed decades ago,
and the laptops got Alzheimer's.
I need a Bakelite dial phone
one heavy enough
to withstand some heavy breathing.
When the living and the dead communicate
they need the right tools.
Love never dies they say,
yet an I-phone has a microchip
that has everything, but a heart.
Youthful moments, fleeting
young love swoons from the past
yellowed portraits remain
yesterday’s songs linger
yet as life goes, we sail
years mark a fleet of days
yielding to time and age.
A Pleaides Poem
10/5/2022
The simplicity
Unlocked windows... unlocked doors
Kids playing outside
Old school rhythm and blues groove
The community village
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