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Insulate to the sharp needle of insulin – as this pan
creases over daylight frying a canopy of trees, left
with skins that smell of mould; moulding us into forms
that don’t fit, following titles without ever playing the role.

Models parade as model citizens, while forests fall around
their footsteps; smiles reduced to emojis, connection flat
as a screen. Each impression feels like a coded message –
profiles lined with Bible verses in their bios, good at quoting
scripture, but so not good at keeping notes on The Message.

But we fashion ourselves into “the latest,” but our dreams
arrive too late, departing long before we catch them.

We are all stories inked together from the sharp tip of the
pen, injecting more time into our veins, yet living diabetic
to our morals – sugar-high on indulgence, starved of truth.
Eat, drink - and savour body
It burns - and freshly blushing
Of ankles, knees - the jutting crags
Eat, drink - get lost - in moaning
Of own thoughts - heads' fog
Is rooted deep in groin
Eat, drink - yell over famine
With belt and taunt
Draw tight the ego's thirst
For thinking - shame yourself
For narrative of truth - give up
And joyfully accept
The informational injection
Comparison, identifying, drama
"I believe!" - a dream forgotten
Neglected honour - recognizing game
Unheard is role - a viewer
Yet - to the wall of lies - another burst
"Why do you peel own skin away?!"
Waste life attire
Save in affliction - reason
When silence in the head
Shrieks - "Jump! Take step! Put hanging!"
Just watch - and call for an encore
Applaud - from stage - from audience
Out of theatre - "Louder! Louder!"
With tears - splutter
Listen to the poem recitation:
https://youtube.com/shorts/RIXC2Ot_O1M
Marwan Baytie Aug 30
Truth is an arrow
it pierces, yet purifies,
leaving the wound clean,
a scar that remembers,
but does not deceive.

Hypocrisy is an ointment
it soothes, yet poisons,
numbing the pain,
covering rot with fragrance,
a sweetness that kills.

Better the cut of truth
than the kiss of lies,
for only what bleeds
may one day be healed.
Knife - strains
In mockery of water - a knocked glass
Revealing spots
A raving whisper
Splashing cold
A crowbar smashing collarbone
"You surely do not need
Those useless hands"
Improper - unclasped collar
And after droplet - choke
Inflation of the soul
Scarce lines of obit
"Place cloth of white" - the shroud
"Pour to the guests" - caprice
"And play a marriage" - wake
In dance - do smile
Not daring to gaze down
To knife - a pledge of the forgiveness
Listen to the poem recitation:
https://youtube.com/shorts/su0APQM9He8
I just invented condescending way
A spiraling - rendition -
In thoughts of give away - do jeopardise
Tight murmur - catchy breath
And warmth of words - neglectful
Icarus - has faced the fall
Demanding for the sun
To follow

"Do give me hope" -
Waves shudder - cries
Collateral is trust -
Uneven debt - to sea
Through lust for gods
To favour - self-aware kin
"I will eat lies"
And drowning frame of wings
Makes yet another prophet

Cast - the spirits' smelting
"Farce!" - for being captive
Dull is the spark to lit
Azure for blinded
"I close my eyes" - a torment
Is benign - "Betrayal!" -
With fools - to play
In helpless shade of sun
"Be a good match"
Spent to emblaze the star
"I bet he fades"

Dismissive is calm laughter
"It's in your head" -
World - empathetic
"You do like humanizing" - stalls
When reaches out a hand
For burned
And now is lit a candle
Coax thins the fumes
"Do feel accepted"
Listen to the poem recitation:
https://www.youtube.com/shorts/KyFF25qTrSQ
Brumous Aug 11
Oh, good Lord.
Were you borne of love or was woven to a word?
I believe that a choir only have sung hymns — in your name, re-enacting kindness through loud utters of loving cruelty.

Because if love was found in the womb of a human heart, I wouldn't see a false God in my mother's womb.

However,
It is not you who sing the utters.
It is not them who are caged in a web made of purposeful mistranslation.
So, I hold no malice for you.

For you have not a mouth, yet — they feed you the receipt of words.
And when the time is done,
The fault will be yours,
A synopsis of death
And hurtful
Words.

For
Someone
Nearly fictional,
Have you no shame?
Because there is no beauty,
inflicting the creation of man,
In such intricate world.
It’s hard to care when you constantly consume
And casually crawl to your next careless doom.
Drown the dreadful sound of death and distresses
With doing diligent duties of deadlifts and presses.
Present your body, perfect your posture,
Purposely pose and perform, what do you offer?
Over and over, overlook the overlooked
And over emphasize and obsess over our looks.
Life is lost; lifeless ,limp and not much left,
Their little limbs lie still and lose all red,
Yet I read and ritualistically refuse to realize
The reality of death, the relentless killing reeling past my eyes.
Everything feels ephemeral, even eons feel like they evaporate;
Every evil event blinds me more and expresses empathy into a concentrate
Which I don’t take;
Which I waste;
My empathetic blood over coagulates-
I’m hardened,
I’m numb,
I’m used to seeing darkness overcome,
But I’m hurting
With head hung;
Is there no way to protect the young?
Is there no way to make a change?
It feels like everything stays the same!
It feels like the west has left this plane
With no plans for right east days.
A mentality of me means we must make
Sure this sense of self is seated in a superior way.
Western ways, wave goodbye, wave your waste-
We are all walking westward without willingly changing pace!
We’re unaware of our own blazed trails,
We’re unaware of the paths we take.
We’re barely even taking a path in the first place.
We’re barely moving, barely speaking,
Barely seeing or even breathing.
I say we, but I mean me, because I know I’m barely feeling,
But conviction in spirit makes all the burying less appealing;
I’m finally folding open each eyelid one at a time,
Prying my eyes into a state that they don’t normally provide;
And I will watch the world for what it really is;
And I will watch the church for what it really is;
And I will watch the body for what it really is;
And I will watch the Christians for who they really are;
And I will watch my brothers and see who they really are;
And I will weep for what I watch and see what really is and who really are,
And how far we’ve fallen from where we say we’ve been,
When we haven’t moved in centuries past the threshold of our own doors,
Or invited others in need to come stand upon our floors.
I imagine what it would be like to believe over seas,
Brought up in darkness, poverty, plagued by disease;
I saw it said the other day,“lord let my next trial be how well can I handle money”
But they are blind to the root of many evils, the toxicity of greed.
Because getting what you can and given little is all we breed
And carve into the hearts of families, worshiping capitalistic means!
“God made capitalism” is such a funny thing to see,
It’s as if we never read an ounce of what we preach.
As if all other nations are dammed by man made decrees,
Divided on how to govern, how to create freedom, or how to eat.
These are tedious things that have no worth.
Tedious things will end up burnt;
Tedious tidy-ups and tie-ups to tuning life will leave you hurt-
It’s overwhelming being caught in the web of pseudo Christianity, pseudo faith and fruit;
Believing what they say as absolute-
At the same time I ponder the reality that my faith has doubts too,
Like how the Bible is made by man, and God’s  hands,
Yet infallible, with pure intentions and plans.
Can I accept that?
I know some of you can’t?
But then what is left that can stand?
Do we determine the character of God like west-wing prophets?
Do we trust ourselves to know God’s thoughts and process?
Pick and choose then pick and lose?
Pick a faulty step and then pick a noose?
Do I trust in you?
You who also say that they’re happy with Alligator Alcatraz?
Who laugh when families are taken from their dads?
Who cheer for pain and suffering of others?
Who don’t know even the slightest meaning to the word brother?
Or do I follow you who worships the endless pit of consumption?
The one who can’t live without getting something?
Never content because you are chasing around a doorless fence;
Worshiping the air, the particles, or even the sound of your breath.
Always hungry, always changing, never considering the emptiness.




In all of this I find comfort in two greatly forsaken ways:
Laying down my life for others,
And in my demise giving thanks.
I am thankful for my pain.
I am thankful for suffering when I do.
I would rather suffer than watching it happen to you.
My prayers recently have been along the lines of this:
“Jesus may you save those in pain and show me how I can help.
May you bring peace to all who are suffering, even though their lives are hell.
Open my eyes to see the ways that I ignore their yells,
And may you help me to love greatly, even if it hurts myself.
Thank you for my family, my son, my wife, my home.
Thank you for being here with me even when I feel alone.
Thank you for your blessings and I trust you always provide.
Even when I have nothing, I know you’re by my side.
Help me to endure what is needed to break off the heavy spells
That this world is casting day by day to make me hate myself.
I love you Lord and how your word has never let me down;
Pastors, brothers, and friends all will; in you, help me have no doubts”.
This is not what we were taught in school
Fights, mayhems, police arrests and brutalities
In the soiled streets. Compatriots, it's never cool
To see so much blood and so many fatalities.

Competing banners are everywhere. A ticker-
Tape parade has gone wrong. Terror and horror
Got together for the wrong reasons, at the wrong
Place. There are too many obscenities in the song.

I am so stunned that I don't want to say too much
The images are absolutely nefarious and repugnant
This is unbelievable. America does not deserve such
A ferocious slap in the face. This is lewd and aberrant.

Copyright © October 2020, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poetry.
I can't trust you,
To whom "I love you"
Has nothing to do
With the things you do.
vik Jun 30
dear species
because you leave your porchlight on
in case someone visits and
lock your door in case they do

and because you grow flowers
on your balconies
and forget the names
of your neighbors

dear species because
you speak in apologies
for things you plan to do again
and dress your cruelty
in ceremony

and because you write history
in permanent ink
then hand out
erasers

dear species because
you measure wisdom
in years survived
but treat the aged
as inconvenience

and because you name nations
like they are gods
then worship flags
more than faces

dear species because
you build the theatre
before you write the play
and clap before the ending
just to be certain
someone hears

and because you lay bricks
over quiet
and call the wall
a necessary boundary

dear species because
you build schools to teach peace
and factories to fund war
and never once
see the contradiction
as anything but tradition

dear species
i regret to inform you
you are still
the punchline
inspired by humanity, i love you :D
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