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So your sitting there talking on the phone
but in your statement your standing all alone

You can’t play the game of a one time mistake
you’ve done it before, so we know it’s all fake

A defense against an attack never made
you were the one who started the charade

To pin the blame on those that you hurt
put all those around on heightened alert

A stalker, a hater, a bully and the like
the names you called, putting a friendship on strike

But it never seems to be that you think it through
cuz every single one only applied to you
They started it up again, with someone who used to be someone i wanted to call a friend
Its the aesir to reason you
For matter of what soul
In due, is death that would
So dare yet find to cross.

Centories can mind or two
All at best be kept from
Ungrateful as bitter a fruit
Troubled aripe a venom.

In witt masterred the clue
For debt and till reason
Argued to name its value
Soul to have to be cost.

In wisdom weighted book
Soul saving of to worth
To practice become proof
Know to be of freedom.

Lived longer of any should
Worlds i come to know
New best call an every few
Hours twelve twice both.

Willed to call self introduced
Before far of every soul
Knew had language of tune
Come art supreme form.

Read from eyes all in true
Come to the collector
Due of gods understood
To proverbs skeleton.

Built from word time root
Come every ending of
Too late be the too soon
A home a rest a world.

Its the aesir to be excused
Work be lovemade word
New as dread as powerful
To be as limitless unknow

Written secret mirrorview
All charms willin souls
Rule in a spell more true:
Of right to be to, calls:

To be: RIGHT in the DUE -
PROVERB - SKELETON.
hats call to be filled but i am not in fashion for them-      
              -clear days   in any-which-season and i shall pay-
-the rays will fire away at my forehead and neck-            
        -unprotected i'll crinkle in some cancerous answer-
-and belch anger ungrateful and blame out at the world-
     -warning beacon to probably only a few immediates-
-we're heard before and ignored as there's so-                  
                             -much inflammation of knowledge clut-
-and damage readings of our species byproducts-            
                      -we just shut down or ghoul up merry mad
10/04/25
sprawling in the wet dregs                                          
                 ­                                   i fumble who you are
threatening        me        with        animal
"you jag  you jag  you jag-you-are-you-are-you-are"
laughing like unpleasantry  laughing with obscene
calling on the meat of madness                
              (absurdity of this scene )
to the tune of ******* by Wet Leg
Ellie Hoovs May 13
Mad
I caught the deep inky blue of it
in bottles
labeled 'pleasing'
and set them on a shelf
next to bowls full of tears
and baskets full of unwanted memories.
It was cold
aching like limbs in the winter
sip it,
let the ice unfurl,
bitter on your tongue,
grief catching
in your throat
before settling into the pit
of your stomach,
like a swallowed apple seed.
one day the winds came
knocking all of the bottles down
and all around in the broken air,
ruptured by the fragmented glass,
screams - starved and rising
screams shattering bone
screams - ringing
wild and ragged
at last.
Brooklynn May 6
I am the only one left
And it seems like a mighty theft
Am I the only one that cares,  
When I feel nothing in the air?
Should I compare you to a spring morning
You are as harsh as the rains cold venom
Spring allows growth and warmth you cause scorning
Spring leaves when asked you outstay your welcome

Would I compare you to autumn’s sunrise
Autumn always takes its end peacefully
Somehow you take the end as a surprise
Fall lets the past fall you end forcefully  

Could I compare you to summers sunset
Summer should always brings joy and freedom
But with you summer comes with us upset
So why have I caged myself to boredom


So why do I keep comparing your fate  
For you are only the season of hate
Death, death, Oh! Old Death
Old death makes everybody dry and sad
Death even makes kings who are grumpy and mad
Absolutely powerless, helpless and useless
Death makes us mute, motionless, lifeless and deaf
In the darkest, hottest part of the crater
And deep within the brightest cell or cache of the chamber
Where too much light
Blinds the retinas and this is never right
Death makes everybody lifeless, powerless and useless
Death, death! Nobody can get used to you
Death, death! You are a fool too
For stealing life which is vitally precious
Death, death! You are backward and too ambitious
Nobody can get used to your ways
Because you make us part ways
Old death! You never show compassion and pity
You are wicked, greedy, sick and crazy
Old death, will you leave us alone?
Please use a different style and tone
Death, death, Oh! Old Death
Old death, you make everybody weak and mad
Old death, you make us worthless, lifeless and sad
Death, death, old death, please go away
Go, go away, please go, go find your way.

Copyright © April 25, 2025 Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.
Davinalion Mar 21
I stared at the cinderblock wall, kudzu clawin’ up wild,  
A green chokehold sprawlin’ ‘cross this Tennessee hollow,  
Life flickers in me, a match struck on a humid night,  
But leukemia’s creepin’, a month to ***** my candle’s glow.  
Sixteen and I’m done, no worse than folks who linger here,  
The sun meltin’ over the Smokies, the sweetgum air—why ain’t it mine?  
I despise death’s slow drag, its damp, cold fingers on my neck,  
Not scared—just ******, a fire ragin’ in veins gone icy.  

A dream once slunk in, like a copperhead through the pines,  
Cross my warped floorboards, me froze, watchin’ it glide,  
No fangs, no strike, just sickness coilin’ in its hush,  
Woke me to the truth—my end’s stalkin’ these backroads quiet.  
Why me leavin’ while others grill burgers in the dusk?  
This land’s too pretty—cornfields gold, mockin’ my rot,  
I’d toss a Molotov at it all, this carefree Cumberland sprawl,  
If my arms had the grit to torch my **** fate.  

The world churns on, deaf to my hollerin’ from the porch,  
Beauty cuts deep—crickets chirpin’ a song I can’t keep.  
Everybody’s fightin’ to breathe, no soul less than me,  
But what’s it worth when death’s got my number dialed?  
I chuck my truth like a deer stand spear, unmissable,  
To God, to life, to folks cruisin’ Main Street clueless,  
At sixteen, dread’s my gospel, my rebel yell,  
A war cry howled, so this whole county might pay up.  

Life’s a gift for us about to get yanked away,  
We cling tight to what’s rippin’ loose in the wind,  
My ache, my envy for kids racin’ four-wheelers, unborn,  
No hate—just a love for livin’, sharp as a switchblade.  
Through cussin’ and jealousy’s hot sting, I thread a tune,  
A jagged love song hummin’ over the TVA hum,  
Reckon this truth, let your own gripes loose like hounds,  
I ain’t kneelin’ to anything . And I am proudly mad.
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