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I am dreaming of a pitch-black Christmas night
Tonight, where the jolly stars can easily be seen
In the sky. From afar, the moon is clear and bright
And the clouds create a wonderfully divine scene.

I am dreaming of a dark black and arctic Noel night
Where all babies experience and see while asleep
The jamboree that I'm enjoying under the beam light
Of a flying sleigh. What I am saying is incredibly deep.

When the sky is pitch-black, there's always a party in Heaven
The angels wear an array of colors with their Sunday best
God sits atop, right in the middle of the feast in Eden.

I'm dreaming of a marriage between darkness and brightness
Where there is no evil, there is no Hell in man's consciousness
I‘m not sleeping but I'm dreaming like Baby Jesus in the nest.

Copyright © December 2019, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several poetry books.
The end of the year is the dawn of a new one.
The sadness and the yesterdays are all gone.
We have in front of us: a new era, a new horizon;
We are hoping and dreaming of a better season.

The moon seems to be brighter at midnight.
The migrant birds are flying very low tonight.
They are chirping, screaming, moaning and singing;
The children are happy, jumping, running and playing.

We set new goals, short deadlines and crazy wishes.
We invite friends over to enjoy novel drinks and dishes,
And we listen to old songs, which never go out of style.

The globe will not stop turning and the wonderful sun
Will not cease shining. A new season always brings new fun.
We need to relax, be more realistic, laugh more and smile.

Hebert Logerie - Sunday, December 30, 2012
Hebert Logerie is the author of numerous poetry books.
Closed eyes,
embracing you in the shadows,

The clock's chime igniting a flame
within me – resolutions!

No resolve in that fleeting moment
kissing into the new year; our midnight
kiss.
I stay with the beast
Until the morn comes
When the great sun will
Lay bare his carcass
Torn by vultures
Eyes beady, glass beads in a kaleidoscope

I see its fangs
How sharp your teeth are, mister!
All the better, all the better…

Through its gaping neck
And the bullet hole in my head
I am granted a fleeting vista
Of light – its majestic stride
Wrought in dark steel

Alexander Nevsky grins
From its bottomless maw
Fire! Danger! Season!
We were destined, destined,
Destined…for,
For – greatness!
Title taken from Laibach's Vojna Poema.
It's midnight-thirty
Cast party
This week was a lot
But it wasn't as bad as last year
Last year only went till ten-thirty
Sweaty ping-pong
Encore encore
Much loud
Many fun
Thanksgiving celebration tomorrow
Today I guess
Gotta wake up
It's fine
I don't need sleep
Do sheep sleep?
Probably
Counting sheep
To get to sleep
Ugh my brain
This rant is what happens to me at midnight
Let's see how it is tomorrow
This morning
in quiet of the nights
his demons comes out
and begin to rule over his mind
attacks are made
wounds re-open
and bleeding doesn’t stop
as he confront his demons
with his head high but knees on the ground

memories, promises
failed dreams, enemies
and 19 years of life
flash before his yes
everything start to pull his nerve
with screams so loud, a cursed man’s curse
his house is his grave
and there are cries in his silence
begging for help and lord’s forgiveness
the clock pointing to midnight
the walls are coming closer and closer
i’m going mad
my biggest fears begins to rule over my mind

scared of my own thoughts
scared of voices that tells me to die
i would put my hands on ears
and close my eyes

the paper says “i’m depressed”
stuck between haunting midnights
a fight between life and death
have no clue where i shall seek shelter
bucketb0t Nov 24
Happy Misery

Buckethead daydreaming reality midnight sun inside his Bucketheadland my outside moon midday fantasy night-dreaming Buckethead.

Exact chaos organized figuratively.
Dedicated to Buckethead's Midnight Sun song, which resonates with my temporal alternance of him, whereas Buckethead lives in the USA and I live in Romania, and also how he dominates my playlist which deprives me imensly of other bands.
Erwinism Oct 2
I have so often wondered why the rose in the yard kept being a rose when everyone else is a dandelion,
or why it would recite light when midnight is still in the land’s arms.

When the spring rages,
and the rain dry of its songs,
when the colors are famished
of their sky,
when the stars abed fail to rise,
this rose is unfazed.
ever flamboyant on the stage,
gliding gracefully on ebony ice,
this rose has a will of a cactus.
Hollow Heart Sep 29
Its the middle of the night,
I have this pit in my stomach.
Its a sinking feeling,
I cant stop it.
I need help,
I cant ask for it.
Feels like hell,
I cant get out of it.
Im sinking,
Deeper and deeper,
To the depths of despair.
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