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Jamie 2d
Summer Days splashing in the river
The bike ride down
The wind in my face
My hair dancing with the breeze
I wish
every
Day
was like This

Dad,

Hanging up his hammock
While me and Maddie walk up the river
Making up our own games
And convincing Dad to let us
Swim in the river
Though the current was rough
I remember how he would sometimes
Say
“yes”
Letting the water
Engulf our bodies
Pulling us gently
Downstream

Years ago
I didn’t realize
I didn’t see how quickly
How quickly our world is disappearing
How quickly the water has dried up
Those days
Slipped out of my hands like water
Slowly          evaporating
Slipping from my hands
Dripping into some place
That is unknown

Someday
I will visit this place
The past of my life
The perfect days by the river
Someday.
They reside on the other side.
They bathe in fertility.
They own yard-keepers and servants;
Dogs, cats and charming plants.

They breathe the camphorated air like us,
Swallow the transparent dust,
Cross over and fall in the muddy rivers
Like our siblings living under the tiny tents.

They reside on the other side of town,
Over the mountains.
They bathe in tranquil fertility
Of the country-side.

They ignore that we are the same
And that we experience daily the same dilemmas.
One day, them and us, all of us will answer
Present deep in the river, under the karmic bridge.


P.S. This poem was originally written during my college years. Nelson Mandela was still illegally and wrongfully jailed, spending (wasting) 27 years of his heroic and precious life unjustly incarcerated. Mr. Nelson Mandela and my African brothers and sisters are the sources of my inspiration.

Copyright © circa May 1984 Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.
Damocles May 27
A moment of riverbank fog,
In the earliest morning,
Before the timid sun rises over the horizon,
Aghast from the surging push of a breeze,
Watching the tall grass sway like fingers out car windows.

The musk of Petrichor and Dew
Pervades every olfactory nerve,
Invading taste and thought like an intrusive guest,
Submissively I drop to my knees,
Bowing to the bountiful grace she bestows upon me.

As the waters clear,
And the sweet mandarin orange paints the sky,
I am comforted like a swaddled babe,
Perfect and clean.
Unlimited in my pursuit of peace,
I am burdened only with impatience,
Blessed with the soothing effect of her touch,
Awash in the company of the ancient groves,
Enthralled by the emerald city as her Vedant kin call to me.
From clay to bone, and back again,
Gaia, watch over me, all mother.
I refer to Gaia as the all-mother, the mother of all creation and I may not be a hippie proper, but I do respect and love nature, and animals to an almost obsessive degree.
Laokos May 24
a severed branch in smooth moonlight
adorned above an open gate—
does it lead out or in?
does kindness wait beyond the blind corner,
or something severe
lurking in silence
to devour your life?
something wild with eyes for the dark calls through the night.
an inkling that this night may be your last,
and you’ve already forgotten
the gentle light of the rising sun.
death teases the truth behind the illusion
but never gives up the ghost.
maybe not tonight, but someday—
it will come,
as unavoidable
as the waterfall is to the river.
but you are not the river.
you are the sky, my friend—
vast and open.
do not mistake yourself for your life,
which is but a reflection
on the river, briefly.
let it fall away, as all things must,
over the edge,
into the unknown,
into the mist.
Steve Page May 21
Foller Gill’s story treads
seemingly softly, rhythmically,
leaves their fresh green mark
beyond the grey, beaten paths.

Foller Gill takes
the much lesser-trod course,
searches deeper, further, takes
secrets to their mainstream beck.

Euden Beck strides
hungry, curiously thirsty,
pushes past the slow, shaded fields,
scorns their hemmed-in universe.

Bedburn Beck ambles,
tramples down all resistance,
insistent in their pursuit
of an ancient destiny.

The Wear wanders,
snakes towards their final estuary,
savors the holy promise,
the gift of the free, North Sea.

Foller Gill bathes
unbound in their ocean.
And their legend continues.
After Inversnaid, by Gerard Manley Hopkins.
https://allpoetry.com/Inversnaid
You’ll find Foller Gill in the North Pennines National Landscape, as it starts its journey East.
silvervi May 14
Guarded by the movement all around me
I sleep under the sun in the breeze
My body on small stones on the beach, not yet aching,
Relaxing and embracing the unknown.

Ducks walking along the river bank,
Exploring,
As boats and kanus move past the shore
Where I rest on this peaceful afternoon,

Welcomed by the movement all around me.
Spending some time alone at the river Rhine.
Pirikli gushes and flows,
Creating poems as he goes.
The pencil is a river, the paper a sea,
And on it, his boats sail free

Azerbaijani version:

Axır, coşur Pirikli
Yazır, qoşur Pirikli
Qələm çay, kağaz dəniz
Yola düşür Pirikli
Azerbaijani bayatı( a form of traditional short poem) literary translated to English.
Pirikli is my poetic name. The poem is about my poetry experience
Near  A River That Runs Deep

There's A Place With No Streets

Where I Love To BE On my Own

And Greet The Silence Of Being HOME...

In the Silence & Debra Lea Ryan
1st Verse
G6-EM/A -EM
26.04.2025
In Song @ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fh1Yv1IK0D8 < Feeling a little Meditative.
isaiah barber Apr 22
Walking the pasture
Green and pure
Without flaw
Without ruin

Grass stands stall
River running through it
Orchards stretched far
Gardens of purity

Peaceful serenity
No worry or hate
There be naught
But calm winds

No shadow here
Tis beauty all around
Where time be still
Heaven's reflections

But a river
Flowing in the midst
Made with tears
Tears of pain

Children dying
For greed and power
Wealth and darkness
Meaningless cause

The gardens of divine
Serene clarity
All we leave behind
All we taught

The poisons and toxins
Tainting the gullible
Easily accessible
Innocent minds

The world we made
Scorched Earth
Came the rain
Flooding the world

We could have risen
Beyond physicality
Beyond Existence
Connected to the River

Eyes set upon selfishness
Hearts gaze upon ruin
Deep within the Earth
Enriched in blood

River of blood
Naught one could do
Nothing but to watch
As life comes crashing down

The golden gates
They stand locked
Keeping us away
What we do not deserve

Heaven above
Earth below
Hell in the midst
Persisting through time

The river was pure
Twas a marvel
A beautiful design
We sacrificed for this

The Darkness
Lost hope
Shattered dreams
Breaking streams

Strides of nothing
Nothing but hate
Naught but death
Blood and tears

Hopelessness without goodness
The river cries, it's gone
Thou doth not witness naught
Blinded eyes, blind heart

Thou art a beauty
And we killed thee
Torment unto thee
Look at what we've done

The river beckons
Call for a higher plain
We ignore it time and time again
We seek in life but never find
Mark Wanless Apr 21
old samurai sits
riverbank gently flowing
stream katana drops
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