#immigrants
What is an American?
But not just ******* children of a nation worse than Cronus,
Left to rot in a filth of poverty and disease,
Having lady liberty's amber glow guide them to Columbus’ sin,
Paying the entry fee with a debt of suffering for the first to come,
And prosperity to the next-born.
A fleeting vision of billions it seems,
Trance in green and peace;
A covenant that leaks opportunity from every seam,
Only reachable to the ones who clean and say "please,"
Digging every day and night to see,
Their kin forgetting the suffering that gifted a chance of prosperity.
Having to travel jungle and sea,
Men of many creeds perish and live,
Just to taste the American fantasy.
A city upon a hill we are indeed,
And to forget our ancestors' suffering is weak;
From all lands, they came to give their souls to fuel the American machine,
Just for us to call it an unreachable dream.
Apr 5
Apr 5, 2026 at 6:59 PM UTC
I'm eating bean and cheese,
Trump denies human rights;
I spill some salsa
And the masses of people are being herded.
There is no suspense here,
Just tacos and the horrible news;
I change the channel
And look for my chorizo and egg.
Trump and immigrants do not exist anymore:
But the salsa stain remains.
Apr 4
Apr 4, 2026 at 1:38 AM UTC
All inhabitants of the world are refugees or immigrants
We came with nothing and we will leave with nothing
We are all passing by for a few happy or sad moments
We don’t get it: we are nothing and we own nothing.
When the bells ring, tell me what are you taking with you
When the roosters sing, which flotilla will protect you
The streets are full of ***** snow and clear ice, and the residents
Are protesting against injustice, hatred and countless rodents.
Trash bags are served as barricades, the streets are ***** and filthy
The corners and boulevards are on fire, gas canisters are smoking hot
The crowds are cursing and running back and forth. The melting ***
Is on fire. We dream of more peaceful days and nights in the country.
We probably belong to the first, second or third generation of a country
Yet, we forget that we are all immigrants of this world which nobody
Owns. We still don’t get it: we are nothing and we own nothing
Yet, we can make something out of nothing to be somebody or something.
Copyright © January 2026 Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several poetry collections.
Jan 17
Jan 17, 2026 at 2:07 PM UTC
At one point in time, there's was one country
As there's one earth, one rainbow and one human race
The wind, rain, smoke, and snow don't recognize
Borders or tiny plots of land that greedy leaders
Think they possess. They will always make errors
Nobody owns a country, tower, a location or a place
As one can only palaver. We can scuttlebutt and dramatize
All we want. Earth or this land is owned by nobody
This land belongs to all. We are passing by as tourists
We are refugees, migrants or immigrants, even the racists
Or the wannabes. We are wayfarers, passengers on a boat
We own nothing. We own no land, no wind and no float
We need to make room for each other. Today is your turn
Tomorrow belongs to no one. This is something we must learn.
Copyright © June 2019, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.
Jan 17
Jan 17, 2026 at 2:04 PM UTC
Slavery is hell. Hell is back. Slavery is worse than hell
No freedom of speech! And democracy is neither cheap nor for sale
Hell is here again. Please listen to the first resounding bell
Hell is as terrible as slavery, a source of shame, pain, suffering and misery
For poor hardworking migrants who have crossed under infernal sunny
Days, hot and thunderous rainy nights, and dark cloudy sky
Many uninvited borders in order to reach potholes full of ice
And snow, where the weather is hostile, racist and deadly
God did not create our world to be so sinister and unfriendly.
Slavery is here again, where children are summarily killed
Where gentlemen are sissified and humiliated, where unskilled
Goons and henchmen are trained to be worse than wild animals
Where women are beaten and trampled like rags in shopping malls
Where rumors of inhuman atrocities are widely spread
To sow fear, fear which is as bad as living in real hell
And where young men and women’s futures are for sale
To the harshest and meanest detention centers or gallows
This sorry world has no future for people with so many lows.
Exploitation is hell. Hell is back, again. Corruption is hell for the masses in the crasse
For the victims of countless wars and for the desperate migrants who hide en masse
Rich countries wage major wars and let their proxies drop heavy bombs and cans
To destroy the fragile homes of the impoverished, unarmed and starved citizens
One wonders why some countries have a military budget so high and wasteful
Maybe only Satan knows why human beings cannot be too cordial or fraternal
And why factual rumors and actual animosities are so widely spread
Telling the truth always hurts bullies, tyrants, executioners and hideous perpetrators
While the uneducated victims behave like hiding zombies in the wicked corridors.
Copyright © September 2025 Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poetry.
Sep 29, 2025
Sep 29, 2025 at 6:27 AM UTC
I feel that the light is shining on all of us,
Here today,
That are of this generation.
Without thought for creed or nation,
Dispensation or convictions.
I feel in the air
A breeze of change
From the winds of truth.
I hear the chimes
Of a pur of gust on chords
From a pale vision given color.
I see concern in the face of my brothers,
I discern a scent staining my sisters.
That they are not treated as fathers,
That they are not treated as mothers;
That they are less person & more chattel.
Whatever your chosen identity.
And even so, despite conjecture
The majority feel as such,
That line of a nation
Is one without factions.
And yet, by the party system,
That lie of a nation
Is one where we are equals.
Because in being separate
We are not different,
Not in this way.
For we are conjoined
And yet disjointed;
Debating becomes like arguing,
Disagreeing becomes like fighting.
My friends, what are we doing?
Is it not yet evident
That without the cooperation,
Consent,
And participation
By the majority of the populace
That it is impossible for us to attain real order?
Outside of seditious and nefarious plans
For power grabs of total control,
Which will all reliably fail,
There are solutions.
Nothing so final
As the extremist comics,
Often pessimists or nihilists,
So salivate and dream over.
And nothing so care-free
As some sadists or hedonists,
Often pessimists or nihilists,
So swoon and fall for.
Yet nor too meek or rigid
As some fanatics or magicians,
Often pessimists or nihilists,
So worship and practice ritual.
No. We will be democratic
With a government
Who hears of all
That plagues & plights;
By little & tall,
Small & large.
We will have a middle,
Common ground
Where we may all be impartial.
That place we shall call,
Columbia.
Mar 4, 2025
Mar 4, 2025 at 10:56 AM UTC
Every bill passed
Every law enforced
And every punished person
And every broken door
Every wall built
Every motion managed
And every battered woman
And every mind damaged
Every code of conduct
Every regulation
And every callous worker
And every police station
Every constitution
Every consequence
And every carried hate crime
And every document
Every proclamation
Every orange dictator
And every child taken
And every righteous debater
All of them have suffered
All of them are dead
And all of them are falling
And all of them have bled
Feb 3, 2025
Feb 3, 2025 at 12:15 AM UTC
Ils consomment des chiens chauds, hot dogs
Aussi
Comme vous
Mais ils ne mangent pas de chiens
Jamais, jamais
Ils ne mangent pas de chats
Ils ne mangent pas d'animaux de compagnie
Jamais, jamais.
Les immigrants mangent des sangliers
C'est du ‘Griot piqué’
Ils ne mangent pas de lapins
Mais ils mangent du ‘Tasso épicé’
Et bien sûr, ils mangent des hot dogs, des chiens chauds.
Les Haïtiens mangent et boivent de la Soupe Joumou
Dans laquelle nagent des légumes et bien sûr des carottes
La cuisine haïtienne
Est très, très bonne
Les immigrants consomment de bonnes viandes
Comme vous.
Arrêtez d'être raciste
Arrêtez d'être fasciste
Vos ancêtres mangeaient des chiens
Pas les immigrants, pas les Antillais
Et surtout pas les Haïtiens
Arrêtez cette haine honteuse
Pensez à votre sort
Au dernier rendez-vous
Les immigrants mangent des cochons frits
Comme des milliards d'Américains
Qui aiment les tartes aux pommes
Arrêtez les mensonges, arrêtez tous les mensonges.
P.S. Traduction de ‘They Eat Good Hot Dogs’.
Copyright © Octobre 2024, Hébert Logerie, Tous droits réservés.
Hébert Logerie est l'auteur de nombreux recueils de poésie.
Oct 29, 2024
Oct 29, 2024 at 11:35 PM UTC
cruse la frontera
Cruse el mar
Contra las tormentas
Todo para tu mirar
No mi pararon las balas de un güero
Por tu amor mi converti en tu Guerrero
Cruse la frontera por ti mi Mexicana
Para que vivemos juntos en nuestra
Casablanca
Jul 19, 2024
Jul 19, 2024 at 2:32 AM UTC
~
Saturn Jupiter Mars,
three blind mice running
up the clock to find freedom.
starlight stairs in abyss,
cities of the interior ring
carry a dangerous cargo: citizens.
t-minus one/this is fear
I am no astronaut,
I'm a refugee, bleeding hands pressed
tight to the barbed-wired fence.
we play charades from the window,
lunar phases keening
in the tender light of these infant wars.
t-minus one/this is fear
farewell threshold on laudanum,
the grifted gift of the Joe Blakes
painted from memory.
the far off observation
telescoping my fear, leading me
to believe I'm hiding in plain view.
~
Aug 12, 2023
Aug 12, 2023 at 11:15 AM UTC
My mother would often suggest I sleep on it.
Presumably mulling over all the possible outcomes whilst dreaming.
We were raised with anxiety, my mother was a live wire; adrenaline primed our hearts to avoid judgment, or catastrophe in an uncertain future.
At this very moment I am living in the now, and in love with all living things, no-longer afraid; no longer clinging to the illusion of control, in an uncertain future.
Jun 30, 2021
Jun 30, 2021 at 10:11 AM UTC
There are cracks in the mask
because there are cracks in the foundation.
Hazy,
what was it all like before we divvied our nation?
Mother's and children
helpless in separation.
Give me the good news
when all I see is complication.
Who decided what's ours isn't theirs?
Crossing, drowning, they're running out of flares.
May 2, 2021
May 2, 2021 at 8:47 PM UTC
oh precious flower,
we marvel at how you uprooted yourself in pursuit of a healthier home,
not only did you sow your seeds in foreign soil,
you defied the seasons to tend to their every need till they flourished into the blossoms we regard today.
your discomfort is now their triumph.
their victory reigns as a testament to your sacrifice.
Mar 3, 2021
Mar 3, 2021 at 2:56 AM UTC
"Mr. Biden, tear down this wall," pled Juan.
Nov 23, 2020
Nov 23, 2020 at 10:09 PM UTC
I imagine you at my age
Younger, stronger and ambitious
You literally cracked your spine
Once healed, cracked again by soil foreign
That bore you no fruit
But fruit were born from the womb
Of the love of your life
I imagine you had it all
But poverty was placed between your eyes
Tried to go back home
Catch the dream you once had
Build a home your children could inherit
But all they wanted, was to snuggle in your strength
Listen to a strong heartbeat
Reading them nursery rhymes
Tears begin to flood my vision
When I realise, your life
Is mirror to my own
I inherited recycled dreams and hope
From a land that bore me no fruit
When all I wanted, was to inherit extra time with you
Snuggle in your strength
And listen to lullabies
Jul 30, 2020
Jul 30, 2020 at 9:30 AM UTC
my parents
the humans who have shaped me
who have cared for me
who have loved me endlessly
they left their homes for me
they left their parents for me
they left the only place they knew for me
oh how it breaks my heart
to even fathom the thought of having to do that
to think about all the courage and bravery they had to put on
to have to come to a different country all on their own
for the sake of themselves
for the sake of their families
for the sake of their future family
oh how sad, that they didn’t have a choice
Apr 29, 2020
Apr 29, 2020 at 9:55 PM UTC
I salute all the parents who sacrificed everything
to ensure a better life for their kids.
I feel for the kids that are constantly told they do not belong.
I celebrate the courage of the families who sought a new beginning.
I stand behind the immigrants, and the refugees.
Behind those who were brave enough to make a choice
and those who did not have one.
I stand by the kids who fight for a better future;
Those who claim a country that refuses to recognize them;
Those who are told to go back to a place they do not know.
I stand by those condemned for wanting to be alive.
I stand by those who dared to dream.
Oct 24, 2019
Oct 24, 2019 at 2:07 AM UTC
if you look back in time
whether near or far
you will see
we are all immigrants
it is a human need
to search for a better home
and be the change it needs
Jun 19, 2019
Jun 19, 2019 at 11:01 AM UTC
i speak of those who were made silent.
so much words yet so little consideration. you crushed a very living foundation of innocent families. all those concrete wall cracks are evident that you single handedly ruined lives. how more cruel art thou, ye men of cruelty ?
i speak of those who cry blood, yet are let to suffer silently because of you men that shut the truth, which one day i will unfold.
Jun 5, 2019
Jun 5, 2019 at 7:47 AM UTC
You see us rising
so you wanna squash us
You stare in awe as we reach up
Soon to touch the skies
You can't meet our gazes
When you realize there's no fear in our eyes
Borders are nothing and walls can't hold us
We'll get to freedom even if it takes a million tries
You pretend to be deaf
As if you can't hear our cries
You think we're small, invisible
But no—No, we're here
and we will RISE, RISE, RISE
Jun 4, 2019
Jun 4, 2019 at 10:13 AM UTC
Politics jut aren't my thing
I don't care who you vote for
I won't judge you based on your political party
but I do want to say
That is hurts me to see
so many Americans be so callous and rude
to others based on their religion or race
to watch others suffer
in countries where their leaders
are committing genocide
and when their last hope is
to run away from their home, family
everything that they've ever known
in hopes of finding safety
in hopes that they may be able to survive without fear
but then they are met with cruelty at our borders
hate in our country
What does America stand for
if not freedom and hope?
Is the American dream dead?
Feb 18, 2019
Feb 18, 2019 at 11:55 PM UTC