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SL May 21
If ever presented with a platter of choices
I shall choose a certain kind of calmness.
Unlike the one which holds leaves together before storm,
I choose the kind mingled on faces of ambulance drivers
Of my hometown.
MetaVerse Feb 22
There once was a man with a flu
Who ran in the night to the loo:
     He stubbed all his toes
     In consecutive rows
While filling his knickers with poo.
Zywa Feb 4
If it is called a

challenge, a virtue is made --


of necessity.
Essay "Laat me niet alleen" ("Don't leave me alone", 2008, Renate Dorrestein), chapter "Step Three: Let's act young"

Collection "Old sore"
On the fifth of April 2024, about 10: 23 a.m., we all felt a shake
It wasn't the midnight train; it wasn't a jack hammer
It wasn't children hopping; it wasn't the roaring of a tiger
It wasn't a 747 emergency landing; it was an earthquake
It was God smiling at us to see how we would have reacted
People had panicked miserably; it was the talk of the town
Imagine how we would behave on the eventual day of the frown
We'd probably be crying, grimacing and feeling deserted
No, that wasn't a plane
No, that wasn't a train
No, that wasn't the lake
Yes, that was a 4.8 Earthquake
In the Northeast
Disturbing our peace
Everybody is now scared, talking about it
Everybody is now stressed, having a fit.

Copyright © April 2024, Hébert Logerie, all rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.
Jeremy Betts Aug 2024
More times than not,
The hero in me
Trips over the zero in me
I get caught,
Tangled up in the calamity
Of this often-overlooked emergency
A played-out plot,
So there's no urgency
I already know the worst in me
I don't pick my spot,
Never holding back what I let people see
Keeping me under wraps was getting especially tricky
I don't know what I wanted, or what I thought
But this is what I got,
Me,
My own worst enemy

©2024
Jeremy Betts Jan 2021
The only role I ever land is "outcast tortured by the cruelty and pain of his past" I sure didn't choose this path, feels more as though I've been typecast, or maybe I am a *******, holding out for every last ounce of pain before I blast this trader living in my head for the last 30 years off my shoulders, through a window pane, then, just as fast, turn to the vast hole in my chest that once held my heart and press the cold steel to it with the mass of my dread firmly in my grasp, gun fire drowned out by echoing laughs, fulfilling a prophecy of my future while neglecting lessons from my past, the game of life feels less like a game of chance and more like a test that's harder to advance than all the rest and wouldn't you know it, I fell asleep in class and didn't pass, apparently I even tuned out the emergency broadcast. Went and amassed a losing record that'd be impressive if not for the direct contrast the win column presents and the enormous shadow my downfall casts. Harassed by the devil on each shoulder, I thought that maybe once I got older, if I could just stay on task and remain steadfast, I would be able to open a can of whoop a$$ and trespass the evil within this house of glass but alas I must telegraph my every move or they've seen a future telecast because they lambast each strike and I'm not sure I'll outlast these issues, I'm gassed, plus, problems have started showing up in mass from a much higher weight class, they must have bypassed the weigh in process but I've always known who the deck was stacked against, hence why I never win, I only survive and my methods would flabbergast most, the truth finds it's way to the surface and I find myself aghast, crying like I've been teargassed with no gas mask but I've surpassed the point where waterworks will bring forth empathy, gotta own my involvement in the crash, volunteer to take out my own trash and this time I'll throw my pain out with the bath water and be free at last...free at last, free at last, no thanks to god almighty I'll be free at last

©2021
Jeremy Betts Nov 2023
I'm not the only me I see when I see me looking back at me
Bewildered by the impossibility of a blind visionary with the foresight to look past me to find me
I got caught staring so intently I lost sight of the true me completely
You see such savagery and think it must have been nurtured from infancy
While true, I had it in check, hidden away in the captivity of a long forgotten memory
But it still remembered me, waited patiently, predicting my return with a whimsical accuracy
It heard me frantically trying to find the glass to break in case of emergency
Not to set it free but to once again embrace what was scary, what might be the reality of the actual me
Instantly I handed over the key, didn't even keep a copy for me
Knowing exactly what I was doing and what it'd do to me mentally
It was always going to happen this way eventually
Finding solace in it's monotony, no more uncertainty
Both wake up and go to bed with the same angry energy
Done with the pleasantry and all the pageantry projected outwardly to seem more neighborly
Just so the world could be more comfortable with me when I pass through their snooty, gated community
While it pays no mind to what's being done to my psyche
This self destructive entity wasn't only the part of my reality I was told to bury
It is the entirety of my history, sad and happy, comedy and tragedy
I was it and it was me, the merger went so smoothly I believed it was absolutely meant to be, probably
Fighting myself got messy and wasn't necessarily a necessity
In the end there was no surprise who's hand was raised in victory
I already knew the part of me that held superiority but everyone else said it'd turn out differently
Like they got some kind of decoder key
Of course it didn't and they don't, thankfully I was welcomed back too once again become my own worst enemy
It ain't good company but I personally accept that personality and it's starting to warm up to me finally
It's been a strange journey, be thankful I didn't ask you to join me

©2023
Alienpoet Dec 2021
The feel of the pen
on the paper
the poet grabs a verse.

the dripping of morphine
the flow of endorphins
flow of electronic lines
across the monitor
let’s hope we don’t flatline

this mere mortal
needs a portal to the stars
this mere mortal needs
defibrillation to the heart
the way the poetry forms
in the lungs and the mind
the way life needs beauty
is sometimes unkind

I am the blood transfusion
the illusion
of poems
bells chime
Electrons flow
Radioactive  X-rays know
Poetry opens doors

I am the emergency poet
I will take flight
in flames
never shall I be tamed
But I will make that heart beat
and get you out of your seat
And on the road to recovery
and discovery

Because poetry heals
and steals back our songs
what could go wrong?
Deep Jan 2021
Come to me surreptitiously like fog comes in December night
I will hide you by the news of discontent and discomfort-
Engulf and surround you with fear of loom,
The country is going to dust now,
Master has become maniac puffing the ***** of 'Power'
deeming good into bad and bad into good,
The books affirming violence his students seek,
The guardians and protectors stand and watch
the clashes like sadists forbidden to inflict pain;

I lament the plight and plunder of my sacred home,
Hoping a dawn of summer amid chilly winter.
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