#grandeur
Ashes from the fire which
Cooked our meal the night
Before -- the same as
Millennia past.
Sitting under the sun and
Clear blue sky breathing
Relatively fresh air --
Though the present
Is breathed with risk,
Water drank and swam in
With similar risk.
Mating rituals
Political and religious
Arguments
Creations stemming from
Unchanged limitations
All still the same
Though more succinctly
Thought out and articulated
In modern "civilized"
manners.
Base instincts unchanged
Just brought up to date.
Green grass
Tall trees
Dense foliage
Surrounding our campsite.
Seeds floating on the wind
Through nature's many
Fallopian tubes
Landing in its own
Fertile eggs.
Elusive intermittent flashes
Of true natures ways
Like millions of spermatozoa
At mother's egg
Trying to get through to my
Modern brain
Which is forever trying to
Grasp life's purpose.
I fervently try to train
My thought patterns away
From socialized "answers"
In this advanced generation
Of ancient mortality.
MORTALITY
YES!
MORTALITY!!!
Limited
Earthbound
Trying to find purpose
Above and beyond the
Simple
Obvious
Purpose of work to live --
Live to work.
Nature seeks nothing
Beyond her simple
Purpose of
Renewing herself
Season after season
Year after year
Century after century
Millennium after millennium.
Nature never changed her
Purpose
She has always remained
Content.
But we 21st Century
**** Sapiens believe in
Our desperate clutching
That everything must
Change or rise above
Established
Obvious purposes.
Cultures are created in this
Cauldron.
Religion is the chemical
Reaction of this ill-conception
Of transcending true pure
Nature. In changing ourselves
We change nature.
In this delusion we think
All of creation is subject to
Our mastery.
The results seen in the
Present condition of nature.
Not content to accept basic
Laws of nature
We create these artificial
Realities;
Pulling down her ancient
Strongholds as we claw our
Way tooth and nail
To the top of our illusions
And delusions of grandeur.
Basic elements remain
Nonetheless.
The pursuit of greener
Pastures and primal lust
Has remained.
Seeds float on the wind.
Water courses still flow.
Seasons revolve as our
Globe spins in space.
These things remain in
Spite of our creations
And misapprehensions.
All may seem basically
The same through the
Scope of ancient days.
But trying to change
These fundamentals in
Or outside of ourselves
Creates
Mutations of the true.
Perhaps the true purpose
Of human life is nothing
More than natures...
And nature can be beautiful.
Nov 4, 2025
Nov 4, 2025 at 8:46 AM UTC
I have never seen an ugly flower
Flowers are always full of grandeur
Flowers are known to be beautiful
All the time, that's stupendously wonderful
All flowers speak a beautiful language
That we all fully comprehend. In this day and age
Everybody is yearning to hear the voice of love
The voice of a symphony coming from above
Yes, everybody loves the language of the flowers
It is a language, a sound of joy between lovers
And friends. Love is at the center of everything
Please keep on dreaming, please keep on speaking
The language of the flowers, the language of all colors
The dialect of the epicureans, the language of all lovers
I only see beautiful flowers in spring, fall, summer and winter
One flower has the power to improve the mood of a lover
Bring a flower to a lover, I guarantee you that you'll be happy
Keep on speaking the language of the flowers to spread unity
Love, respect, peace and the incredible fondness that we all need
Flowers do not discriminate or use foul words. Lead and feed
Inspire and incense the world with the perfume of the flowers
With the aroma of a stylish language and exquisite manners.
Copyright © August 2019, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.
Jan 20, 2025
Jan 20, 2025 at 10:11 PM UTC
i hear your waltz, dear bird.
the soliloquy,
the melodies that pull at the strings holding what’s left
of my heart evermore.
i listen, to the shuffle of your ruffled feathers,
your light feet
dance to the creak of hardwood.
a sonical prison.
as this intrepid cell guard is
fueled by my schizophrenia,
and van gogh like delusions.
none of grandeur.
so here are my ears, one sliced from reality,
the other searching for its vibrations.
each majestic, and just as much
consequentially miserable, piano strike
marks a new set of steps for you.
and although i no longer feel,
nor see, i still hear exactly how you carry yourself.
and from that i draw insane conclusions.
from there, upon just listening,
i can imagine what your ****** expressions are like,
and from your laugh as you dwindle around this penitentiary
like a loose branch amongst gusts of wind
i can tell you’re free.
free to fly. free to feast.
free to find a new mate.
free to watch the world burn
from a bird's eye view.
just as we used to do.
free at last, most importantly from us,
more specifically from me.
and although i no longer
feel, nor see.
i still hear exactly how happy you are.
and that isn’t the most heart shattering aspect of our ordeal,
or should i say, my ordeal, to live with, alone.
because the part that really allows me to carefully and diligently pluck single strands of hair from my head as if i could somehow string out the memory of you out from my infinite depths,
is the fact that i can hear, clear as day,
another bird’s chirp,
another bird’s laugh,
another set of feet, on this waltz you’re on.
and when i say heart shattering,
i hope you hear it break, as the sounds of it
reverbs across this room’s vast loneliness.
oh, where are my van gohg like delusions now?
i’ll continue my search, since now i fully know that
you’re just gone. with the wind.
fly, my dear. and leave me, here.
to die amongst your waltz.
-melancholicreator
Feb 22, 2024
Feb 22, 2024 at 7:26 PM UTC
"The most exquisite face wrinkles and droops with age
Roses too must wither, mocking man's desire for any eternal beauty in materiality
Death will destroy the buds of youth, Cataclysms will demolish the grandeurs of this earth
But nothing can destroy the splendor of the astral cosmos"
Many forms, but crystalline perfection;
Mystics pine, on the meaning of raging storms;
In lieu of real connection. We can
Appreciate the beauty that is laid before.
Before our time, and we veer
Without axis, & detached from direction.
Jul 31, 2023
Jul 31, 2023 at 8:28 PM UTC
Aren't delusions of grandeur just as good, if not better?
May 24, 2022
May 24, 2022 at 9:32 AM UTC
My favorite pursuit of happiness
is to recite the enchanting verses from the beauteous Quran.
To be lost in its splendor.
To Mesmerize myself with its grandeur.
Breath with pure sublimity.
I can wipe out my woes and blues.
And rise to the majestic heights of glee,
like an uncaged eagle who soared to be free.
Apr 13, 2021
Apr 13, 2021 at 7:11 AM UTC
The love of my life runs through my veins
It can't be a lie that makes me feel safe
All the jewels of emotions come into the phrase
Neutralizing stabilised thoughts for a place
Concluding I hope to get my precious gains
The Brain and Heart are my soul locators
Giving me purpose to live and aware
Following into happiness of my favorite sphere
Inside the self loving treatment of geared individuals
I dig into my thoughts of shallow waters
Growling into the fact of curious matter
I am no more the master to my beloved grandeur
I lost hope into the Truth of love for my serious self desire.
Jan 27, 2021
Jan 27, 2021 at 6:57 AM UTC
You wonder the meaning
in thousands of hieroglyphs
the roses you garnered
are still holding their stance.
The artists in fragments
collect their forgotten past
to assemble the untold future
into some hopeful slivers.
Wondering if ever appearing
on the white painted wall
there is a shadow of a candle
or mere illusion of the reality.
Oct 21, 2020
Oct 21, 2020 at 6:29 PM UTC
My veins like glass shards
itch beneath a memory
of aging brackish memories.
I couldn't lift my arms for they
fell like a breathless moment
in a forest of regrets.
No one heard them descend,
they just bled sap slowly, till all was hollow.
And all that was left was a time that fell,
and the cuts where silent.
I was a moment standing in grandeur,
but beneath it didn't really matter
I
was a hollow moment,
crumbling beneath life's weight.
Feb 15, 2019
Feb 15, 2019 at 6:48 PM UTC
Fear
Is a terrible reason
To
Or
Not To
Believe
In Something
In Someone
In a God
In Others
In Yourself
Fear is a grandeur adversary to many
But Courage
To Go On and Stand
In the face of Fear
Is the grandest Ally
So many fail to choose
Jan 4, 2019
Jan 4, 2019 at 6:42 PM UTC
ANu dei dawns..
. ' .
. .
. .
----------------------------------------------
His name is Antoine
Aug 21, 2018
Aug 21, 2018 at 11:21 AM UTC
For the first time in my life,
I now live in a home of my own,
Regardless of the financial constraints,
Sweet parents built this dwelling,
Then I also pumped some capital.
Of late, we sold our previous property,
Well, I planned & cracked the deal,
Now we have this new bigger home.
Regards to my parents are never going to be enough,
Especially when we went through my accident saga,
Salty moist memories do not follow me now,
Indian, this Anugraha looks so graceful,
Darkness of night fails to take away the sheen,
Enjoying my time here in the life,
Not forgetting who made this house a home,
Call them I do my sweet and kind parents,
Even the darkest memories seem to fade away.
May 14, 2018
May 14, 2018 at 11:32 AM UTC
Let us write our stories
Reckon all moments
A passage to self-reflection
With a display box of grandeur,
Fingers on a key pressed,
Levitates a search in no time,
Way out of the crowd
Quiting a reality to roam and wander
Nothing is outside, all within
A big circle of virtual connections,
Without months of eye contacts
No face to face,
Sending empathy through e-thoughts
Having a common ground,
Hope to run faster than Terabyte,
We love seconds more than a minute
WiFi made all worth living
Sending signals to the soul
We will feel it, anyway.
Feb 17, 2018
Feb 17, 2018 at 1:29 PM UTC
Bored on the internet, so see what I find.
I'm taken back to that moment in the past
When I met the droop-eyed star and starlet.
Look what Twitter has. Their pale face framed
and recreated, pixel perfect, inundated.
Talking in circles.
Talking highly of
Your self --
Like you're above the tower seat of power,
In the clouds. You're a mental case. How
you gonna love yourself so much?
Nov 3, 2017
Nov 3, 2017 at 7:15 PM UTC
In the bejeweled chronometer dial
of the lighted night sky's grandeur,
light years unfathomable, embedded
vie with one another,
every single minute
in a scramble to all 360 degrees
creating a perfect hallucination!
Time impishly breaks all concepts,
of linearity, circularity and the rest,
takes to directions, that pleases
in the process makes one wonder
what the distinctions we make
as past present and future mean!
"Let's mix past with future,
put past in present and create
an ethereal symphony of time,so that
nothing gets lost, gained either"
Oct 30, 2017
Oct 30, 2017 at 11:05 PM UTC
27 | 31 Poems for August 2017
Her eyes are the same colour as her brown skin; you should see the world through her pupils.
Often at times she had no need to say anything because through her eyes you could see a different perspective of the world.
Her eyes eloquently spoke a language that was foreign to anyone who hadn’t experienced the vibe of South African townships.
But you could always understand her because those eyes were filled with hope, love and happiness.
The wisdom she constantly utters every single day may often remain unheard.
But the beauty of God’s grandeur will never go unnoticed; you can see it in her hazel-brown eyes.
You should see the world through her pupils; her eyes are the same colour as her brown skin.
I see the sunflowers in her eyes, the love that radiates from her aura is drawn from within.
Aug 27, 2017
Aug 27, 2017 at 2:07 PM UTC
Soldiers are the real sons of soil
Hence they are patriot and loyal
They put in the relentless toil
Keep discipline is in rank and file
Remain awake when other sleep
The torch of light high they keep
On high mountains or down deep
Their destination is on just one leap
Sheer sincerity is their hall mark
On every danger they embark
Pave their way from every dark
In their approach they are stark
They are but for the motherland
All o come up to graciously garland
With one frequency and on band
They carry grandeur of the grand
Col Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright 2015 Golden Glow
Jan 28, 2017
Jan 28, 2017 at 4:54 AM UTC
How sweet the linen
that grandeur weaves,
unseen by other's untrained eyes,
yet seemingly hard to sew
into the fabric of our own
immediate lives.
Sep 14, 2016
Sep 14, 2016 at 5:39 PM UTC
Grandeur's delusion
is an allusion
standing on the precipice of greatness
it's something intrinsic, ain't it?
Aug 28, 2016
Aug 28, 2016 at 1:47 AM UTC
The greatness of Nature cannot be denied.
Her grandeur is plain for all to see.
Such sheer determination can only be admired.
See that tiny ***** on yonder rock face:
Some miniature plant has taken hold
Where nothing else could live.
We know that Mother Nature rules the Earth.
But what about the stars?
Billions of exoplanets wave at me
In my mind’s eye.
For life right here can thrive in boiling acid
And solid sheets of ice.
What scope for life is there out there,
Amongst the swirling galaxies
And gassy nebulae?
I tell you now:
There’s almost ENDLESS Opportunity
For life to evolve
Around this Universe
Alone.
Yes, she’s much, much more than “Mother Earth”:
More “Mother Multiverse”.
Mother Nature multiplied a million, million times.
Imagine That.
Paul Butters
Mar 19, 2016
Mar 19, 2016 at 3:33 PM UTC
**Poets were created
to emulate grandeur,
whilst suffering the blues**
Jul 16, 2015
Jul 16, 2015 at 8:29 AM UTC