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When abruptly, suddenly, and unexpectedly the day
Became the darkest night, countrymen and friends
We didn't know if we should run while saying hello
Farewell or goodbye. The earth was shaking until infinity
Incessantly like afternoon trains coming from countless
Directions. The hour was vital. We were searching for the gleam
Of a hope in order to escape from the supernatural snarl
Where thousands of lives have been lost. Material goods
Are not important, we see ourselves leaving as we
Came. We must recognize that money is futile and peace
Is the most precious thing that we need. The past
This is where stealthy, fleeting and volatile happiness resides
It's like the end of a world. Oh! Every being is useful.

The fault or the rift opened its big mouth to engulf babies
Adults, dogs, cats, houses, buildings and entire roads
That was the apocalypse, which was the end for thousands of citizens
That disappeared like smoke in the bewitched clouds
The trains were invisible but people had risen their hands
In the air, climbing vehicles without doors and tires. Heavy feet
Weighed ten times more than an elephant. We were going to
Unknown destinations. The dumbfounded and deafening cries were
Ubiquitous. Mother Earth was shaking. She shook like she was
About to sink into the sea where the ebb and flow landed
At the skirt of the curtain, where smoke and cloudiness met
Happy are those who have been saved and who live in peace
The earthquake is an infernal avatar that brings sorrow and regret
Haiti, our country has lost lovely people, dear little children
Due to the selfishness of avaricious rulers who are drowning in hypocrisy
We keep saying aloud: poor Haiti, impoverished country. Yet we don't stop crying
While wondering when the tears will cease dropping, melting away and exuding.

Copyright © January 10, 2021, Hébert Logerie, All Rights Reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.
Lorsque brusquement et soudainement le jour
Devenait la nuit la plus obscure, compatriotes et amis
On ne savait pas si on devait courir en se disant bonjour
Adieu ou au revoir. La terre tremblait jusqu'à l'infini
Sans halte, comme des trains nocturnes venant de plusieurs
Directions. L'heure était vitale. On cherchait la lueur
D'un espoir pour s'échapper de l'embrouillamini surnaturel
Où des milliers de vies ont été disparues. Les biens matériels
Ne sont pas importants, on se voit partir tel qu'on est
Venu. On doit reconnaitre que l'argent est futile et la paix
Est la chose la plus précieuse qu'on nécessite. Le passé
C'est là que réside un bonheur furtif, éphémère et volatil
C'est comme la fin d'un monde. Oh! Chaque être est utile.

La faille a ouvert sa grande gueule pour engloutir: bébés
Adultes, chiens, chats, maisons, édifices et routes en entier
C'est l'apocalypse, c'est la fin pour des milliers de citoyens
Qui ont disparu comme de la fumée dans les nuages ensorcelés
Les trains étaient invisibles mais les gens montaient, les mains
En l'air, dans des véhicules sans portes et ni pneus. Les pieds
Lourds pesaient dix fois plus qu'un éléphant. On partait vers des
Destinations inconnues. Les cris abasourdis et muets étaient
Partout. La Terre tremblait. Elle a tremblé comme si elle voulait
S'engloutir dans la mer où le flux et le reflux s'atterrissaient
À la jupe du rideau où la fumée et la nébulosité se rencontraient
Heureux sont ceux qui ont été sauvés et qui vivent en paix
Le séisme est un avatar infernal qui apporte peines et regrets
Haiti, notre pays a perdu des gens charmants, des petits enfants chéris
A cause de l'égoïsme des dirigeants safres imbibés dans l'hypocrisie
On ne cesse de dire à haute voix: pauvre Haiti. On ne cesse de pleurer
En se demandant quand les larmes cesseront de sombrer et d'exsuder.

Copyright© 10 Janvier 2021, Hébert Logerie, Tous Droits Réservés
Hébert Logerie est l'auteur de plusieurs recueils de poèmes.
hsn Jan 10
two faces, two egos
to my face you tell me everything is fine
for every flaw i perform, for every mistake
and yet, you spit venom behind my back on my name

how funny, am i right?
Jack Groundhog Oct 2024
There is no pity in Berlin,
a place of prickly wounded pride.

A city of angels
who fell like scars of lightning
from gunmetal grey skies.

I watch old silvered rolls of film
and see flying columns of seraphim
as they march on by
row upon row
eyes ablaze
flaming swords drawn
in a parody of paradise.
They descended into hell
and are seated
at the left hand of the Kaiser:
Gott mit uns.

This sullen scene of no regret
stains the present with the dead and past:
It fits the flinty nature
of the blunt Berliner
under the ashen skies of winter.

I trudge across a gravel path
in the bowels of Berlin,
hear the grinding crunch
of brittle bones below,
and gird myself for the grim winter ahead.
Inspired by a visit to the Spandau Citadel in Berlin, an old star fort used by the Prussian military right up to World War I.
Karma Oct 2024
The frogs of the forest
Are seldom silent.

Their croaking resonates,
Moving the air like liquid.

Other animals are forced
To listen to the tiny tyrants.

One of the frogs hesitates
Before saying,

The frogs of the forest
Are seldom silent.
Jack Groundhog Oct 2024
In an aisle of a great stone church
by flickering light of candles perched
under finials and arches tinged with gold,
flags fly for blood shed on fields of old:
They wave with wistful dreams of war
and tell of great esprit de corps
in a house made holy for a prince of peace
whose dreams of love they speak of least
A description of my impressions visiting St. Giles’ Cathedral in Edinburgh. In particular the many military banners struck me.
Michael Oct 2024
I can’t seem to find the scriptures that state
“Care only about yourself, but not others.”
On what page are we commanded to hate,
Which proverb advises to make people suffer?
Show me where it says to worship the dollar,
What passage directs us to trample the poor,
On what page can I find Gods favorite color,
What chapter tells us how to keep score?
Which holy verse permits genocide and war,
Where can I read that telling lies is okay,
Where is it written who’s life is worth more,
Which chapter says it’s alright to betray?
I don’t know the answers, perhaps you do,
Just pick a passage that’s convenient to you.
Sam Harty Sep 2024
He gives money to his church
Fistful over fistful
I think he's Lutheran
or maybe Episciple
he talks about God
with words of silk
but he also talks about
"those type and their ilk."
I told him about a friend
who died of A.I.D.S .
where I live up here
and he told me
"I'm sorry Sam
he kind of asked for it
because he was a queer."
Man Jun 2024
Duhhh, brown desert people bad
Durrrrrr, God is wrong

Duhhh, white devils are back
Durrrrrr, people should worship Allah

Don't tell me you people still believe this ****,
I couldn't even imagine being so superstitious.

I wish we could all agree this was myth,
Just something to instill some morals and values to our kids

Duhhh, you sneeze?
Gahhhhhh, bless you
Kagey Sage Jan 2024
I don’t play my mandolin everyday anymore,
let alone my guitar or tin whistles
I can’t let this die
I listened to 7 year old Japanese math rock
and want just a speck of that
An identity where I can sift right through
all this mediocre destruction all around
No one even has the gall to admit they’re killing
or the decency to even cover it up anymore
They videotape themselves dancing and
murdering kids for lebensraum
then turn around and say “no we’re not”

I’m tired of surface level house maintenance
followed by immobile phone scrolls
I’m looking for that lesson we’ll all learn
after finally going too far
I won’t play the victim or the hero no more
I did my part and now I’m too old
I need deeper art to escape samsara for good
and maybe that’s the best I can do comrades

I’m sick of details grown so scattered and thin
My whole past feels like entrails
smeared across vast deserts
There used to be rainforests here
but now it’s hard to find the pictures

Just when things almost get too competent and nice
they let decadence do its worse
out of fear that the improvements would make goods and services
too cheap not to be free
Socialism’s bad for business owners
so we lay off the workers and overcharge even more
Let the octogenarian billionaires buy up more water and air
to keep the fellas in the favelas gnashing and grim

Bunker complexes, spaceships, missiles coated in spent uranium;
these are all more important than starving children
Why do the poor keep having poor kids?
Still a conundrum
We gave them a chance to compete
some ephemeral time ago and they blew it
What can we do?
We tried to teach a man to fish…
Imagine Jesus Christ just giving folks fish and bread
for nothing in return?
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