"rimes" poems
We believe we must be gregarious.
In communal bonds families annoint
One another in a precarious
Need to follow one leader at the point.
Individuals are not relevant.
Momentary solitude makes us run.
In silence we find nothing elegant .
Time to search for innerpeace has begun.
"Oh' Catain, My Captain," cried Walt Whitman.
The captain is dead. There's no one we need.
We don't have to group to stop the hitman.
The single flower's a rose, not a ****
We, need to be I, hear this confession:
Farewell friends, I am my new obsession.
Feb 11, 2013
Feb 11, 2013 at 7:17 PM UTC
a plain poem (the first time I came in you)
a plain poem, light and effervescent, a flim-flan tasting,
plein de absurde rimes, full of nonsensical rhymes,
a lattice of criss crossing pastry sugary lines, the ones,
cannot, struggle to deduce, induce, reduce
from my constipated vocabulary
oh well
~
*the first time I came in you,
entered, bidden welcome,
suffused a bridge between
the party of the first part,
the party of the second part,
sugar lightness airy nonsense,
two spirits dancing the singular
pas de deux of their finite lives,
a performance unbeatable,
unrepeatable,
lost to the perfection annals
Shockingly, Surprisingly, Summarily,
did not compose an ode,
don't mine a new vein of ore,
even write a plain poe poem
as best can recall,
at the candle melting of the
sealing wax of the deal,
gave an honest speech,
instantly falling fast asleep
with nary a grunted word
ever since l,
cannot write of plain love plainly,
so she makes me pay with a
new living elegant elegy daily,
a quatrain, what a pain,
this iambic panting meter
love poem writing
jeez louise,
how I wish could write of
roses red and violets blue,
get back to sleep,
oh well then,
back to work
got to make those sad moans,
hers, go away,
so please excuse me
near ten years later,
still paying the dues of the
initializing error of my way
she rumbles-mumbles in her
pre-awakening dream state,
so please excuse, got to go, think up
some implicated complicated
verses to soothe away
her simple poorly hidden anxieties
you see,
I am happy paying
on and on,
writing like the devil furious,
she is stirring, coffee soon,
cafe au lait
if you get my meaning,
but still cannot beat,
repeat, re-alive
that simple plain living poem notated,
when first I came in her*
<•;)
9/24/17 6:49am ~7:17am
Sep 24, 2017
Sep 24, 2017 at 7:29 AM UTC
Clotho, Lachesis and Atropos
the trio we know as “the Fates”
Were discussing the fate of some poet
while calmly ******* on dates.
“At best Sisters, he’s merely adequate.
Sure, he knows his rhythm and rimes.
But when they compile an anthology
will his poems merit more than three lines?”
“Some of his verses are Humorous”
“You’ll grant me that, Clotho, at least.”
“Other times he takes himself too serious,
and behaves like some priggish high priest”
“Atropos, where is my measuring rod?
All too soon he’ll meet us face to face.”
“Here is the fate I have chosen.
Take your shears and mark well the place.”
The fruit made Atropos’ grasp slippery
A lock of hair fell in her face.
The poet got more than allotted
It was sheer dumb luck in his case
Dec 18, 2011
Dec 18, 2011 at 7:07 PM UTC
Et nous voilà très doux à la bêtise humaine,
Lui pardonnant vraiment et même un peu touchés
De sa candeur extrême et des torts très légers,
Dans le fond, qu'elle assume et du train qu'elle mène.
Pauvres gens que les gens ! Mourir pour Célimène,
Epouser Angélique ou venir de nuit chez
Agnès et la briser, et tous les sots péchés,
Tel est l'Amour encor plus faible que la Haine !
L'Ambition, l'orgueil, des tours dont vous tombez,
Le Vin, qui vous imbibe et vous tord imbibés,
L'Argent, le Jeu, le Crime, un tas de pauvres crimes !
C'est pourquoi, mon très cher Mérat, Mérat et moi,
Nous étant dépouillés de tout banal émoi,
Vivons dans un dandysme épris des seules Rimes !
1.6k
Sonnet.
Je m'en allais, les poings dans mes poches crevées ;
Mon paletot aussi devenait idéal ;
J'allais sous le ciel, Muse ! et j'étais ton féal ;
Oh ! là ! là ! que d'amours splendides j'ai rêvées !
Mon unique culotte avait un large trou.
- Petit-Poucet rêveur, j'égrenais dans ma course
Des rimes. Mon auberge était à la Grande-Ourse.
- Mes étoiles au ciel avaient un doux frou-frou
Et je les écoutais, assis au bord des routes,
Ces bons soirs de septembre où je sentais des gouttes
De rosée à mon front, comme un vin de vigueur ;
Où, rimant au milieu des ombres fantastiques,
Comme des lyres, je tirais les élastiques
De mes souliers blessés, un pied près de mon coeur !
1.3k
Waiting for Oblivion
A force starting to become drown
in oceans of silence around him
A "time clown"
Laughter, inside of his insanity grows from the halls of uncertainty
Cold waters of future's question pour from his soul
Back into the already unpredictable waters of existence
No boat to carry him
Tight inside..his life situated like a goldfish inside a goldfish bowl
Across and all over a bitter salt-drenched Soul It remains..Raining..
Waters flowing..A dark force growing
Lack of relief as help through these tortuous hours
His darkness cannot run from it
What light that is left inside of him....the force aims to discard such
Knowing...Feeling faded from never being heard from his loud cries
Those about who fail to understand why he calls them out
He remains as strong as he can remain
doggy Paddling
Until his head is drug down and his muscles start to fail
to paddle him afloat
He shall keep in this cycle of pain
Which is like a beautiful castle kept unvisited by a deadly
and dark moat
The test is "now" in such quiet and lengthy times
As he copes until the answer to his shouted question arrives
Through these long and untested rimes.
Sep 29, 2018
Sep 29, 2018 at 1:32 AM UTC
Ex-voto dans le goût espagnol.
Je veux bâtir pour toi, Madone, ma maîtresse,
Un autel souterrain au fond de ma détresse,
Et creuser dans le coin le plus noir de mon coeur,
**** du désir mondain et du regard moqueur,
Une niche, d'azur et d'or tout émaillée,
Où tu te dresseras, Statue émerveillée.
Avec mes Vers polis, treillis d'un pur métal
Savamment constellé de rimes de cristal,
Je ferai pour ta tête une énorme Couronne ;
Et dans ma jalousie, ô mortelle Madone,
Je saurai te tailler un Manteau, de façon
Barbare, roide et lourd, et doublé de soupçon,
Qui, comme une guérite, enfermera tes charmes ;
Non de Perles brodé, mais de toutes mes Larmes !
Ta Robe, ce sera mon Désir, frémissant,
Onduleux, mon Désir qui monte et qui descend,
Aux pointes se balance, aux vallons se repose,
Et revêt d'un baiser tout ton corps blanc et rose.
Je te ferai de mon Respect de beaux Souliers
De satin, par tes pieds divins humiliés,
Qui, les emprisonnant dans une molle étreinte,
Comme un moule fidèle en garderont l'empreinte.
Si je ne puis, malgré tout mon art diligent,
Pour Marchepied tailler une Lune d'argent,
Je mettrai le Serpent qui me mord les entrailles
Sous tes talons, afin que tu foules et railles,
Reine victorieuse et féconde en rachats,
Ce monstre tout gonflé de haine et de crachats.
Tu verras mes Pensers, rangés comme les Cierges
Devant l'autel fleuri de la Reine des Vierges,
Étoilant de reflets le plafond peint en bleu,
Te regarder toujours avec des yeux de feu ;
Et comme tout en moi te chérit et t'admire,
Tout se fera Benjoin, Encens, Oliban, Myrrhe,
Et sans cesse vers toi, sommet blanc et neigeux,
En Vapeurs montera mon Esprit orageux.
Enfin, pour compléter ton rôle de Marie,
Et pour mêler l'amour avec la barbarie,
Volupté noire ! des sept Péchés capitaux,
Bourreau plein de remords, je ferai sept Couteaux
Bien affilés, et, comme un jongleur insensible,
Prenant le plus profond de ton amour pour cible,
Je les planterai tous dans ton Coeur pantelant,
Dans ton Coeur sanglotant, dans ton Coeur ruisselant !
1.2k
She gets up on the wrong side and
late /midday /noon calmly lust
In the blur window box /with frost
that rimes the glass /Wrote with icy fingers /
With meager letters / ‘love you’ You/
And with a sun / for filling the frame
She paints over and over
The room just a light lamp /
To be in the safety of four walls /
Images pierce / bricks with cement /
They arrive at that/ tender / and ' surprisingly /
Her world of / and his world /akin to a kiss
Body with body / and breath tickling nostrils
Out all gray and rainy / with mixed scents /
Approaching the time of the morning star /
and she / the city her own
©MARIA PANOUTSOU
Nov 4, 2016
Nov 4, 2016 at 10:54 AM UTC
Chaque fois que j 'escalade
Les parois des mots vers les pics inviolés
J 'emmène avec moi dans l'expédition
Mon éclaireuse d'élite.
Ma sherpa me guide et me prévient
Des chutes de sérac et des avalanches,
Cuisine les rimes embrassées, porte les alexandrins
Installe le campement des rimes embrassantes.
Alors elle se repose sous sa tente
Et, satisfaite, cure sa pipe
Tout en fredonnant inconsciemment
Ses deux quatrains suivis de deux tercets
Tandis que que moi je suçote
Mes surelles poétiques confites.
.
Ma pisteuse pose ses pitons et ses broches à glace
Dans l 'ombre des cimes
Sans oxygène sans assistance
Dans les nuages de la haute poésie.
Nous avons ainsi planté nos sonnets
Dans les vingt-et-un sommets continentaux
Ma sherpa c'est mieux qu 'un sur-homme
C'est une sur-femme, une sur-muse
Une sur-déesse
Une vieille briscarde
C'est Junko Tabei et Bachendri Pal
Et après chaque sommet qu 'elle franchit
Sans désagrément
Elle se retire sous sa tente
Et, satisfaite, cure sa pipe
Tout en fredonnant inconsciemment
Ses deux quatrains suivis de deux tercets
Tandis que moi je suçote
Mes surelles poétiques confites.
Parfois la chute d'un sérac imprévisible
Nous emporte, nous ensevelit et nous broie presque
Mais jamais ma sherpa ne se départit de sa pipe
Ni moi de mes surelles
Dans nos joutes poétiques.
Aug 24, 2019
Aug 24, 2019 at 6:59 AM UTC
I sought her words, but in vain.
Me seek'est her haplessly.
I hath been mute all these years.
No sign of love, yet it did languish,
Assail'd at a time to capture mine
As the soul who wail'd a thousand tears.
My words she ne'er tried heark'ning.
Resonance made still and lame.
Tatter'd notions, worded be
Abhorring yearnings of friendship's bond.
The last letter, 'tis where it'll end;
Years of joy, though for her means nothing.
'Tis now the soul's been cheated -
Loving her who loves not me.
'Though silence dost cleanse the tears,
Time will never ease anxiety
Expounded by a heart forsaken'd
Of its innermost rimes and meaning.
Jul 9, 2010
Jul 9, 2010 at 5:14 AM UTC
Why does my heart crumbles into pieces of soul?
While you are sitting there, watching us fall?
Why does my body faints to dust?
While you admire your work turn to rust.
You are our lord, our savvier,
So why do you let us drown?
Die in the fake feeling of being happier,
By fighting for a crown.
The power of all things is in your hands,
So now give your children a chance,
And put this disaster to an end,
Without taking this prayer as an offence.
I believe in Humanity, do you still?
I hope you do, and listen carefully,
"Today is our day can you feel?"
We will be truly free.
Gave us hope, give us love,
Don't let us cry don't let us down,
Hurting our knees by praying from our cove,
This piece of Hell you still own.
Those verses is the pray of despair,
Those rimes are for bringing peace,
In a world we have known fair,
Which is now blown to pieces.
Mar 9, 2016
Mar 9, 2016 at 6:34 PM UTC
Forgetting the glances,
the long dark drift
of glistening dewy webs
spread in the misty dawn
Sound as thin as air
Soft, like filmy frost
that rimes the windows
on icy mornings
A tune as quiet as breathing
labyrinths of colour
without landfall
or metaphor
Letting go
to idle and float
From the surf sea sands
Into the fathomless ocean
No strut or clasp
but in its place,
the soul can rise
in all the washing wonder of the world
May 30, 2015
May 30, 2015 at 7:36 PM UTC
Sonnet.
Je te donne ces vers afin que si mon nom
Aborde heureusement aux époques lointaines,
Et fait rêver un soir les cervelles humaines,
Vaisseau favorisé par un grand aquilon,
Ta mémoire, pareille aux fables incertaines,
Fatigue le lecteur ainsi qu'un tympanon,
Et par un fraternel et mystique chaînon
Reste comme pendue à mes rimes hautaines ;
Etre maudit à qui, de l'abîme profond
Jusqu'au plus haut du ciel, rien, hors moi, ne répond !
- Ô toi qui, comme une ombre à la trace éphémère,
Foules d'un pied léger et d'un regard serein
Les stupides mortels qui t'ont jugée amère,
Statue aux yeux de jais, grand ange au front d'airain !
955
You know me too well
My need to overwhelm, my inclination towards violets
You know I’ve never been one for violence
But lately I’ve had an urge to wage war on this mileage
To battle the empty silence that divides us
Stretching highways, hungry for defiance
To shut despair's deaf eyes
Ever eager to remind us
All our lonely prayers are hushed
I’ve been ready to head home since we parted ways at dusk
These windswept arms of distance have been outstretched long enough
If I could march home along heaven’s backbone
You’d see my soles above
Swallowed whole in our story
Pages brushed with wanderlust
I’d hold the reigns of a comet with these half-moon hands
Charging back to you with the shining night at my command
Or pray for rain to come
And flood these unwavering lands
I’d slip the sunrise in my slingshot to send to your front door
Babe I know you hate the dark but I can’t hold you anymore
Id scrawl with chalk above the treetops
A hundred mile hopscotch
Jump from block to block until your front porch was my last stop
I wouldn’t hesitate to knock
Move checkered stars outta alignment
Forge a constellation highway
And leave my worldly woes behind
I’d rip the seams off the horizon
Force the earth to compromise
Make it fold itself in two until I’m standing next to you
I might just stack up all my time
Every second I’ve misused
Douse it with missed memories and blindly light the fuse
Or maybe you’ve been hiding
Tucked away between
The folds of sky
And endless rolling tides
So I’ll peel back the rimes of mother earth
To see what lies inside her
In my mind’s eye she’s been looking, too
A fruitless search to find you
But hell I’ll give up when my time’s through
Because I’ve seen enough of life to know
I’ve only cracked the door
But, you like my smile
And well, I like yours
May 6, 2014
May 6, 2014 at 11:52 AM UTC
Leave your hands to the begging of mine
and let me see them
Listen
the other side of love
are the ominous days of insanity
I see them
They are running on the paper of your hands
Black and white
They are running like tears and rimes
Like wet-paper poems
dark nights
dark days
My life
What's my life doing in your hands?
May 31, 2015
May 31, 2015 at 4:00 PM UTC
Je suis un Poète
J’arrose les cœurs
De vers, de fleurs
De rimes et de baisers
En face de cette beauté
Muette
Qui s’éloigne
Et que je lorgne
Oh ! Femme
Madame
Dieu a ouvert le ciel
Pour nous recevoir
Deux calices de miel
Sont près du réservoir
Toi et moi nous allons baigner
En pleine saison de l’été
Et après, sur le beau pavé
Nous irons nous promener
Quelle soirée de beauté
D’amour, de paix
De joie et de gaîté
En face de la baie !
P.S. Traduction de ‘ I am a Poet’.
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 11:08 PM UTC
Στο τρίτο πρόσωπο
Ξύπνησε αργά/ με αργή πεθυμιά/
Στο παράθυρο θολούρα και πάχνη/
Έγραφε με δάχτυλα παγωμένα/
Με γράμματα ισχνά/ ένα σ’ αγαπώ/
Και με έναν ήλιο/ για γέμισμα του κάδρου
Το δωμάτιο στο φως της λάμπας/
Στην ασφάλεια τεσσάρων τοίχων/
Εικόνες διαπερνούν/ τούβλα και τσιμέντο/
Φτάνουν σ’ εκείνη τρυφερά/ κι’ απροσδόκητα/
Ο κόσμος της/ και ο κόσμος του/ συγγενεύουν με ένα φιλί
Κορμί με κορμί /και μια ανάσα γαργαλεύει τα ρουθούνια
Έξω όλα γκρίζα και βροχερά/ με μυρωδιές ανάμεικτες/
Ζυγώνει η ώρα του αποσπερίτη/ και η πόλη δική της
©Μαρία Πανούτσου
Talking on the third person or Akin to a kiss
She gets up on the wrong side and
late /midday /noon calmly lust
In the blur window box /with frost
that rimes the glass /Wrote with icy fingers /
With meager letters / ‘love you’ You/
And with a sun / for filling the frame
She paints over and over
The room just a light lamp /
To be in the safety of four walls /
Images pierce / bricks with cement /
They arrive at that/ tender / and ' surprisingly /
Her world of / and his world /akin to a kiss
Body with body / and breath tickling nostrils
Out all gray and rainy / with mixed scents /
Approaching the time of the morning star /
and she / the city her own
©MARIA PANOUTSOU
Nov 4, 2016
Nov 4, 2016 at 9:46 AM UTC
He has been the joke
Until the card was dealt.
You wanted from me but never gave back
Now the joker is rising. Sick as hell.
He'll cut the laughs with a "whack!"
They claim to enjoy my company.
Was it money, the laughs at my failing life?
Or the times you told me to finish suicide as I held a sharp knife?
Never again. My trust and care is dwindling away
Lies can only be believed a few times
Before your routines are figured out
And this Joker kills his situation with some whack rimes.
I have seldom to be taken seriously.
All that I loved was blown off.
So here is the Joker's Card and a middle finger
To those who thought they could keep me there like a controlled puppet.
To those "strings attached.." "You are cut off."
I don't need to hear your moral speeches or how you think I've failed to care for you
when I've done so all these years
so you failed to understand the reasoning behind my fears and dropping tears.
As you failed to give back to me, equally..
In feeling and funds....
I share fill the void in you...
The unseen pit of your undisclosed fears
As you think you can control me
and I do not know how to fend for myself.
Just try me.
All the Joker shall leave you is the shell, that has been emptying me, as I shall you. Leaving your bleeding heart
In the space where you once left mine, the same, on your greedy shelf.
Mar 25, 2018
Mar 25, 2018 at 5:59 PM UTC
Nous sommes tes filles
nous t'honorons
par nos chants, par nos danses
nous te célébrons
à travers nos mots
nos rimes nos rires
Tu nous livre
ton inspiration
sur le souffle du vent
dans les feuillages
et ton message
porté par le son des tambours
dans des rythmes ethniques et éthiques
est un appel à nos âmes
Nos pieds se ressourcent
à ton contact
et prennent vie
par ta douce magie
Tu nous as faites
Femmes Argiles
Soeurs des Arbres
et du vivant
Tu nous portes en ton coeur
depuis des millénaires
nous couvant de ta bienveillance
Longue marche en avant des Enfants de la Terre
Nous nous rappelons
à notre essence première
dans tes sources cristallines
dans tes cascades émeraudes
où scintillent mille ondines
et lumières de fées
avec pour seules compagnes
des libellules amies
présentes en ces lieux
enchanteurs et enchantés
où se lève le voile de la vérité
Miroir de tout ton Amour
Pour l'infiniment petit
Toi qui est infiniment Grande
caro royer
Dec 29, 2016
Dec 29, 2016 at 5:17 PM UTC
at Now's surreal boundary where rough
meets mind's edges, life invites
ears to timely hearing
as pebble-tough questions lie underfoot
and as sting of saline rimes wet cheeks
in unkind steps when reason
meets stress rises queries,
needs to ask things not yet understood
there, as endings mingle mysteriously
with every beginning does grief's
hold let go for life to begin
in one who gladly late love undertook?
Nov 12, 2014
Nov 12, 2014 at 2:19 AM UTC
I tink I needs to be alone for a while
I miss a good friend
Though not fully all his end
He has been taken where he can finally be happie now's
He has been taken where know one can hert him
But where he can write
All his beautiful rimes
Fly on baby boy
Until da end of timme
Jun 29, 2015
Jun 29, 2015 at 7:03 AM UTC
Bubbling in summer’s bouillon
my vegetal notes abound
leaf and fruit under glass
swell quick but threaten
as a base for my tin *** stews
it’ll do in a pinch
but I already yearn
for the inching roots and tubers
colder autumn brings
when sweats are chosen
and frost rimes
glamourise my grin
Aug 10, 2021
Aug 10, 2021 at 1:12 PM UTC
Ma belle de jouir
Ma quatrième épouse
Est un grand quelqu'un
Une sauvageonne de pure race muse
De l'ethnie cavaquinho
Et de la lignée ukulele
Et quand on frôle son bas du dos à vide
Le la, le do, le mi, le sol
Frémissent à l'unisson
Et résonnent à l'infini
En notes tentaculaires
Dans la peau tendue du tambourinaire.
S'envolent alors comme des rossignols
Toutes les règles de bienséance
Et les canons se désintègrent
Les cordes grincent, les corps couinent
Le cacao certifié fond
En rimes masculines et féminines
Dans une frénésie desarçonnante
Où les volcans tour à tour meurent
Et renaissent
Inlassablement
Comme des vagues qui au lieu de rouler à l'horizontale vers l'estran
Grimperaient verticalement
Comme aspirées
Par les tiges du soleil couchant
Qui déploie ses doigts de feu
Comme pour apprivoiser les neuf tentacules
De la dame aux neuf rires
Qui se donne au feu follet du plaisir.
Nov 27, 2019
Nov 27, 2019 at 4:10 AM UTC
I could be overused like a cigarette kiss
Just to see another time this smile on your lips
Bare foot tip-toeing inside my brain
Soft hands just trying to ease the pain
I want your peppermint laugh to fall on my scars
And this frozen tear near your eye shine like a star
I want to recognize your voice in the corner of my eyes
And choke myself with your cinnamon lies
Maybe I can rent a place inside your love
And wait until there is nothing above
Curled up inside your mind
A place where I won't be found
Maybe you'll see my smile in your dreams
And it your nightmares my body will scream.
Feb 5, 2019
Feb 5, 2019 at 1:53 PM UTC