#impunity
Escape is the mind's extremity
From timid eyes of vulgarity
Dashing through the shackles of legality
Frolicking, dancing, twirling
For the crest of susceptibility
Even with the hunger of mind's extremity
The animal lies with its deep responsibility
--To fill the gaps within its community
And halt the vapid temerity
From the absurdity of one's own homogeneity
Are they truly a family?
If one's own father hits his lover
Aren't we just another culture of impunity?
Apr 24
Apr 24, 2026 at 3:46 PM UTC
The doors of the churches and the schools are closed.
No decent people are on the streets,
Where we see sad crimes and horrible abuses.
Many windshields are broken by badly thrown stones.
Violence rains in the streets and in the corridors;
No dogs or cats dared to vent outside.
A few meager birds, on the branches, stare with disdain
And amazement several thugs and charlatans with masked faces.
It is sad to see these heinous crimes. How awful!
There is a hostile war? One wonders which party will win?
We can hear the voice of an old man coming somewhere
Who shouts faintly, "We are all poor victims, sad tramps,
Who are committing suicide for bad politicians, for misers. "
Not too far, we can see a crazy woman with a close friend,
Both in rags. It's a nightmarish image that proves
That the country has become a hell on earth. On the radio, they say
That some ships of the United States Navy are in the harbor.
What are they doing on our territory? We flee,
Or we do not flee? We cannot. Everyone is in prison.
Violence snows blood on the streets of a tropical country, where fear
Reigns. Children do not dare to play in the streets, where terror
Hisses like snakes, like machine guns of the enraged demons.
No war is civil or civilized; war among the same people is also violent
And nefarious. My God, things are very bad in the streets nearby.
Violence is raining and everyone is crying. Victims are everywhere at bay,
Waiting for the arrival of the good angels, who shall come perhaps in a few months.
Copyright © June 2019, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.
This is a translation of the poem La Violence Pleut Dans Les Rues by Hebert Logerie
Sep 11, 2025
Sep 11, 2025 at 8:27 AM UTC
when I am far away from my body, I like to imagine that I am running in a field. The air is warm and gentle, the grass is tall and soft. The sun is warming the top of my head. And I am running. I have no place to get to, but I run like it’s the destination of a lifetime.
I run because that’s what I want to do. I run because that’s where I want to be.
Nov 29, 2018
Nov 29, 2018 at 1:13 AM UTC
I like bananas,
their clothes so cool and smooth...
hmm, no taste required.
Mar 29, 2017
Mar 29, 2017 at 11:42 PM UTC
the woes
the woes
of the poets did
compound
for there were many woes
around
the woes they couldn't
surmount
woes that stayed on the estate's
mount
poets tormented by woes
day and night
and there was no respite
for their plight
the woes were never
ending
the woes not ever
suspending
the woes such as
plagiarists
taking works in pilfering
fists
so too the trolls on
patrol
on them no firm
control
woes
woes
woes
besetting
the
poetry
community
woes
woes
woes
permitted
to
act
with
licensed
impunity
woes
woes
woes
of
them
not
much
immunity
woes
woes
woes
Mar 17, 2017
Mar 17, 2017 at 8:19 PM UTC
The wicked whip of word
Lashes welps upon
The starved psyche
Of the errogenous mind
Indeed the moment rises
In smoke and indigo sheets
Of layered heat pressing down
Into the flesh of desired
Impunity , iniquity , liquidity
Happy is a framed stated stanza
Of thine behind plastic cups
Of wine in sheds
Of gray aged wooden shingle
From long long ago
Was it "Bored-dough" or "Shabby"
Time will consume
But the experience
Leaves you panting
Thirsty for more
May 27, 2015
May 27, 2015 at 8:41 AM UTC
See, the smile on the stone face
of the mountain, once so cold, stoic
it drives home the meaning of change
brought about by erosion of ages past,
molten paste slowly sediments,
decides to be various kind of rocks
on it's path being metamorphic
is just one of it's pranks,
volcanoes in ******** frenzy erupt,
display the pyrotechnics of creation
in it's ****** urge a deep sea stream
breaks tectonic plates,makes new continents
mountains that hold their heads high,
are brought down by landslides, floods
avalanches or sudden cloudbursts
stars script secret messages across galaxies
the meanings will never be deciphered
in spite of the astonishing research
astrophysics can put together and
the thirst for knowledge of mankind
Beauty, my muse, lovely concert I adore,
I see you in animals, birds and fish
that undergo mutation and become different,
ocean currents, seasons,shower of stardust,
most of all in music, that activates the hidden signals,
that come beyond birth and death,embedded within oneself
Can you cite one reason for writing biography
of any one, whoever it may be, in this planet?
Sep 4, 2014
Sep 4, 2014 at 3:06 PM UTC
‘Felt the heart’s old persistent music,
Beyond logic, beyond hope,
And so I didn’t heave myself
Into the blanket of fear.
To this perilous land,
I lived with you all along.
Either latent and exposed,
Still I know there’s a vivid side.
Extrajudicial atrocities
And related political violence
All over the globe;
But what your status became,
Was second among all nations!
This politically motivated murders,
Has unfastened the eyes of many.
Everything comes to blows;
Transgression and lapse like these,
Surely we’ll meet in the future.
This is the world now;
When one opt to fight or not,
Darkness will still scrap the true light.
(9/11/13 @xirlleelang)
May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 10:11 PM UTC