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Raven Jan 9
This thing we built,
Made from Death and Broken Dreams,
I suppose it was doomed from the start,
But I never expected it to carry you away from me,
Across the boiling sea,
As you sail away in your black ship,
Eyes closed for good,
It was supposed to carry me with you,
But it took off too soon,
And I'm left here with a bleeding heart,
Wondering if you're enjoying the Next Life.
Hebert Logerie Dec 2024
The last breath
The last death
The last phone call
The last fall
The last funeral
The last burial
The last roll
The last poll
The last smile
The last style
The last flight
The last rite
The last crap
The last stop
Alas! Somewhere
There is a last
That we can bear
We need the past
To move on in life
After a barmy gaffe
We weep and we laugh
As we sail solo on the life raft.

Copyright © July 2022, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poetry.
M Nov 2024
last month i summoned a ghost to haunt my own house

i could tell you why, but i don't think i know

i could i wanted something to point at and say
that's what hurt me, that's what did it

something you would blame at my wake
while you gather around and call me a fighter
gather round and call me brave

selfishly, i wanted to make a big deal
but in the end i felt too bad to make one
i didn't scream beg
tears in my eyes as i look at the camera
ask the audience for penance, ask for god

in the end, it got me quietly
i thought about waving my arms so you would see but
i waited too long to decide that
so you didn't see me through the window, pulled apart by some unseen force, some malevolent creature that got the best of me

so at my wake you will call me quiet
you will call it a surprise
you will still call me brave
i will not see, how would i know when

i left when i said i would when
i meant it when i told you i
wasn't coming back for what i left behind
Hebert Logerie Nov 2024
Mamá se ha ido
Ya no está viva
Mamá dejo la tierra
En el cementerio
Mamá está más allá
Ella está, en verdad, aquí y allá
Mamá está muerta
Y ya no sale
Con nosotros, bajo el sol
Mamá está en el cielo
Ella nos mira y nos escucha
Está pasando un buen rato
Para vernos quejar y gritar
Mamá está con la Virgen María
Ambos nos escuchan y ríen
Con tanta alegría que ellas lloran
En el paraíso donde nadie muere
Mamá se fue, de viaje
Apenas puedes verlo en las nubes
Mamá se quedó con nosotros
Ella es invisible, dentro de nosotros
Y todos deseamos a otras madres
Felices estancias en el cementerio
¡Que la tierra sea ligera!

PD: Este poema está dedicado a todos aquellos que perdieron a 'Mamá'.

Copyright © Abril 2024, Hébert Logerie, todos los derechos reservados.
Hébert Logerie es autor de varias colecciones de poemas.
Hebert Logerie Nov 2024
Mama has left
She is no longer alive
She left Mother Earth
She is in the cemetery
Mom is further on
She is, here and there, really
Mother is gone
And no longer here
With us, under the sun
Mommy is in Heaven
She looks at us and she can hear
She's having fun, in a dream
To see us whine and scream
Mom is with the ****** Mary
Both listen to us and laugh
So hard that they cry in paradise
Where no one dies
That's a gaffe
What a trip! Mama has left
We can barely see her on the clouds
Mommy is still with us
She is invisible within us
As we wish other mothers
Happy stays at the cemetery
May the earth be light and softy!

P.S. This poem is dedicated to all, who are mourning.

Copyright © Avril 2024, Hébert Logerie, all rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.
Bahze Riahtam Sep 2024
I can't tell where I am going
But I hope that I will be
With the one who created me

Where my life becomes immortal
That's all I had to sayo
Where well meet someday

In your pray, please remember me
Thinking of all my good deeds
For my afterlife, I really needs

Don't forget to visit sometime
Where my body lay
To be with him, that's the only way

All my problem had been cleanse
All my worries had been wipe
Don't let the feeling of me going, hold you tied

I have reach my destiny
No need for me to be sad
For I have arrived at my finish path
Bardo Sep 2024
I was at a funeral recently, a work colleague, a nice lady
Her father had passed away
I was surprised to learn that she was an only child
And that her Dad...her Dad was a 'steeplejack' of all things
Yea he used to climb up and repair church steeples or build church steeples, whatever steeplejacks do
I wondered amusingly Did he ever try and get her in on the trade
"C'mon up here Sarah, there's a great view from up here" He! He!"
Later on in the service one of his nephews got up to give the eulogy
He talked about what a special man he was
I thought to myself, You'd want to be a special man to be a steeplejack
Me! I get dizzy standing on a chair
You'd want to have your head ******* on the right way doing that job
One mistake and you're... you're history
I thought his poor wife must have been a nervous wreck waiting for him to come home
He'd lived into his nineties (90's)
His wife had died just a few years previously
He sounded like... like quite a character.

I was reminded then of an old school Pal of mine... Tom from primary school (kindergarten)
When we used live by the sea
Tom was a great swimmer he'd won loads of trophies
There was an outdoor swimming pool in our village
And you'd often see him heading up to the pool
He'd have his towel and togs under his arm
He used to walk on top of the sea wall when he'd be going up the village
And there was this part of the sea wall that was very high
There was about a 15 to 20 foot drop onto the road on one side
And an even bigger drop of 30 to 40 feet onto the rocks on the other side
And the width of the wall was just around a foot and had little ruts in it (uneven surface) that you could easily trip on if you weren't careful
And he used walk on this like a tightrope walker yea!
And we used to watch him in awe with our mouths wide open in amazement
Asking ourselves 'How could he do that ?
What the hell was going on in his head that he could do such a thing ?
If he fell he'd be killed outright or certainly crippled
And no one would ever say anything to him, they'd just say "Oh! That's just Tom"...
One day coming home from school he took me into the swimming pool
He knew all the people who worked there
On this day they were cleaning the pool and had emptied out all the water
So what does Tom do but go out onto the 'diving board ' and starts bouncing up and down on it
And there's a drop of 20 to 30 feet onto the hard cement of an empty swimming pool
If he fell he'd be breaking his neck or his legs
Crazy!
He came to our house one time, now there used to be this big rocky outcrop that used come right up to the back of our house
We used to call it 'the Cliff', it was made up of all these big rocks and loose slatey type rocks and sand
It was as high as the house itself
We were all soccer ⚽ mad in those days, we used run up the steps to the back garden to play (was on top of the cliff)
We'd be looking over at the chimneys on the house
Tom came visiting one day, when we went out the back and he seen the Cliff
He announced straightaway "I'm going to climb that"
We said "You're crazy!"
We left him there bemused and went off to play our game
About 30 minutes later Tom appears at the side of our soccer pitch having climbed up from below...
And he could hardly kick a football, he just wasn't interested in that... wasn't interested
Inside his head he had...he had his own way to go.
Just thoughts that came to me at a funeral (the same funeral as in the poem 'Second Coming"
Abi Winder Aug 2024
i’m preparing for a funeral that isn’t meant to happen yet.

i dig a grave
and carve a stone.

i’m not dead yet.
but i feel like i am dying.

it will save them doing this
when i am gone.

it is easier to prepare for a funeral that hasn’t happened yet.
than one you didn’t think you’d have to prepare for at all.
Odd Odyssey Poet Jul 2024
Songs to a funeral;- a love they’ll caper to those
Who will use you, leave you when a conclusion is reached-
Bury you a hero without a cape; that seems to be a reach;
Sending you off with a eulogy and a good enough preach
Praises with sweet remarks; devour your memory like a peach

To those who only lived to tear your heart, who will shed tears,
But don’t expect it to be something so dear from their heart
You’ll lose your dignity, in their gossip during the after lunch
While you’re stuffed in a box, they’ll stuff leftovers in a lunchbox
Those you had owed, will be quick to call you a sly dead fox

They’ll wage wars, over all of your once questioned clothing
Claim it’s a war of their love, in a false sense they’ll hide
They’ll pose as friends, in pictures snipped for their timeline
Speak of all the good times they never shared, with a big smile
Say all of the goods things that you’d never hear as a reward
Cry for you not to go- during a service where they are so bored

And you too, will be so bored of such a song for your send off
-So funny that death can bring to life, the worst side of us all
Zywa Jul 2024
They all sympathise

and write their best intentions --


to put in the urn.
Poem "Als enige kennisgeving" ("As the only announcement", 2023, Jana Arns)

Collection "Em Brace"
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