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"unwonted" poems
In these rapid, restless shadows, Once I walked at eventide, When a gentle, silent maiden, Walked in beauty at my side. She alone there walked beside me All in beauty, like a bride. Pallidly the moon was shining On the dewy meadows nigh; On the silvery, silent rivers, On the mountains far and high,— On the ocean’s star-lit waters, Where the winds a-weary die. Slowly, silently we wandered From the open cottage door, Underneath the elm’s long branches To the pavement bending o’er; Underneath the mossy willow And the dying sycamore. With the myriad stars in beauty All bedight, the heavens were seen, Radiant hopes were bright around me, Like the light of stars serene; Like the mellow midnight splendor Of the Night’s irradiate queen. Audibly the elm-leaves whispered Peaceful, pleasant melodies, Like the distant murmured music Of unquiet, lovely seas; While the winds were hushed in slumber In the fragrant flowers and trees. Wondrous and unwonted beauty Still adorning all did seem, While I told my love in fables ’Neath the willows by the stream; Would the heart have kept unspoken Love that was its rarest dream! Instantly away we wandered In the shadowy twilight tide, She, the silent, scornful maiden, Walking calmly at my side, With a step serene and stately, All in beauty, all in pride. Vacantly I walked beside her. On the earth mine eyes were cast; Swift and keen there came unto me Bitter memories of the past— On me, like the rain in Autumn On the dead leaves, cold and fast. Underneath the elms we parted, By the lowly cottage door; One brief word alone was uttered— Never on our lips before; And away I walked forlornly, Broken-hearted evermore. Slowly, silently I loitered, Homeward, in the night, alone; Sudden anguish bound my spirit, That my youth had never known; Wild unrest, like that which cometh When the Night’s first dream hath flown. Now, to me the elm-leaves whisper Mad, discordant melodies, And keen melodies like shadows Haunt the moaning willow trees, And the sycamores with laughter Mock me in the nightly breeze. Sad and pale the Autumn moonlight Through the sighing foliage streams; And each morning, midnight shadow, Shadow of my sorrow seems; Strive, O heart, forget thine idol! And, O soul, forget thy dreams!
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The Village Street
In these rapid, restless shadows, Once I walked at eventide, When a gentle, silent maiden, Walked in beauty at my side. She alone there walked beside me All in beauty, like a bride. Pallidly the moon was shining On the dewy meadows nigh; On the silvery, silent rivers, On the mountains far and high,— On the ocean’s star-lit waters, Where the winds a-weary die. Slowly, silently we wandered From the open cottage door, Underneath the elm’s long branches To the pavement bending o’er; Underneath the mossy willow And the dying sycamore. With the myriad stars in beauty All bedight, the heavens were seen, Radiant hopes were bright around me, Like the light of stars serene; Like the mellow midnight splendor Of the Night’s irradiate queen. Audibly the elm-leaves whispered Peaceful, pleasant melodies, Like the distant murmured music Of unquiet, lovely seas; While the winds were hushed in slumber In the fragrant flowers and trees. Wondrous and unwonted beauty Still adorning all did seem, While I told my love in fables ’Neath the willows by the stream; Would the heart have kept unspoken Love that was its rarest dream! Instantly away we wandered In the shadowy twilight tide, She, the silent, scornful maiden, Walking calmly at my side, With a step serene and stately, All in beauty, all in pride. Vacantly I walked beside her. On the earth mine eyes were cast; Swift and keen there came unto me Bitter memories of the past— On me, like the rain in Autumn On the dead leaves, cold and fast. Underneath the elms we parted, By the lowly cottage door; One brief word alone was uttered— Never on our lips before; And away I walked forlornly, Broken-hearted evermore. Slowly, silently I loitered, Homeward, in the night, alone; Sudden anguish bound my spirit, That my youth had never known; Wild unrest, like that which cometh When the Night’s first dream hath flown. Now, to me the elm-leaves whisper Mad, discordant melodies, And keen melodies like shadows Haunt the moaning willow trees, And the sycamores with laughter Mock me in the nightly breeze. Sad and pale the Autumn moonlight Through the sighing foliage streams; And each morning, midnight shadow, Shadow of my sorrow seems; Strive, O heart, forget thine idol! And, O soul, forget thy dreams!
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72
Quis multa gracilis te puer in Rosa Rendred almost word for word without Rhyme according to the Latin Measure, as near as the Language permit. What slender Youth bedew’d with liquid odours Courts thee on Roses in some pleasant Cave, Pyrrha for whom bind’st thou In wreaths thy golden Hair, Plain in thy neatness; O how oft shall he On Faith and changed Gods complain: and Seas Rough with black winds and storms Unwonted shall admire: Who now enjoyes thee credulous, all Gold, Who alwayes vacant, alwayes amiable Hopes thee; of flattering gales Unmindfull. Hapless they To whom thou untry’d seem’st fair. Me in my vow’d Picture the sacred wall declares t’ have hung My dank and dropping weeds To the stern God of Sea.
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The Fifth Ode Of Horace. Lib. I
#(a travelogue cont...) Waiting for summer just outside the tallest mountain’s door Where the emerald vale streams spring glacial-grey river waters, west into the setting midnight sun Another resplendent day’s paling whisper set free in an unseen blink and an unheard sigh In these unwonted moments   eyes rise up to touch the beckoning sky like a bug drawn to the light Upward over highest mountain's skies abides everything worth rising for It's so rare in this fleeting life, when a dream for a moment comes true ―   you come to understand how deep is silence and ... it doesn’t really matter when there’re no words harlon rivers June 9th. 2018 11:55 pm Denali sunset ... "don't dream it's over"
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Jun 10, 2018
Jun 10, 2018 at 4:27 PM UTC
Denali Sunset
We all saw it We all heard it We all read it And smelled it. Meanwhile Deedeepee is rotting in jail For probably having committed a similar crime Some do the crime and others don’t do the time Similarly, some go to Heaven and others go to Hell. The world smelled it The world read it The world heard it And we saw it. Some people are above the law Some people are found to have no fault Somewhere, God needs to tight the bolt So all can hear the unwonted song of the crow. No jail time, no fine and no probation However, we all felt the humiliation For God’s sake, an Honorable Christian like Jimmy Would have never been in such a gnarly quandary. We all smelled it We all read it We all heard it And the world saw it. No further explanation We wonder if justice was done No further condemnation History is always fair, just and fun. The world heard it The world read it The world saw it And we smelled it. Copyright © January 2025, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.
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Jan 12, 2025
Jan 12, 2025 at 8:17 AM UTC
No Jail Time
You were unwonted to me And I held you in high regards How I felt about you was indubitable I wanted you to make me yours And your eyes They shined with summer Your heart It glared with winter And you starved me of your attention You denuded me and refused to clothe me in your warmth You left me in this destitute condition But still my magnanimous feelings clung to you Although you always drew a partition That interposed me and you Making us impossible
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Jul 5, 2014
Jul 5, 2014 at 11:32 PM UTC
Untitled
The Pretty Ones look away When you catch their eye, When you hopelessly hope They give you the same look Rather than reach the Edges of their vision To tear from your lustful leer, To grace you mere moments Of their time, To recognize the prayers You filled the unwonted air in between, Those in reverence Of their overbearing beauty While you wait To be swept away In the powerful wake they cast From oceans that never end, While you dream of days Spent merrily beside Their ethereal body To speak in their echoed ears, While you work to Build Kingdoms to excite Their exotic eyes And rest their petulant hearts, While you love them in dreams But never knew their names Because they held their breath when They passed you, Because they move along with Calculated indifference To know many like you, You who exist as Nothing within their minds, Who are ghosts That stare but not to speak, Who are designed to Scare but not to touch, Who are as ethereal As the bodies they pass In dreams, When you walk by To catch their eye, It’s not your fault The Pretty Ones look away.
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Dec 8, 2016
Dec 8, 2016 at 7:17 PM UTC
The Pretty Ones Look Away
don't be afraid     to bleed brains on paper     to plead pains unwavered string sounds slowly string sounds quickly do so daringly rhyme no caringly     do not balk upon the blind eyed judge judging unwonted     spray inky gouts dare defy doubt
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Jul 31, 2016
Jul 31, 2016 at 9:10 PM UTC
Just trying things
I can not be ok unless my world is crumbling apart. I can only stretch my limbs around your calamity tie them in a bow, if my eucatastrophe catastrophically collapses. The more my mind becomes at peace, the more I stay awake at night staring out my window into the ink shadow, And tango with the shattered moonlight. Nostalgia consumes Slip and plummet into a cataclysmic monsune So I welcome you, I beg you, rip my heart to shreds make my mind a mess. Defile my body and brake my sprit, burn my tattered shreds in the blazing fire of your hate. Look at it insanity, everywhere, everything I will drown in it, I will drown in the screams. Humanity clings But pain, the saviour the messiah is the only thing that makes me feel okay the only way I can tell fantasy from fiction pain is the only thing that keeps my devils at bay. I am the creator of my own catastrophe, I am the designer of my own tragedy. Agony. I am both my antidote and poison, the repercussions of one are felt at magananimous magnitudes of the other. A never ending cycle. Estranged peace, unwonted quite. Lock myself in a small room let darkness take me, insanity break me, my demons create me, the evils of the world dance in that room, they dance with me. This is my estranged peace, this is my unwonted quite. I smile, a smile so out of place, put on my mask to cover my face. I gather my shreds and sow them into a terrorizingly beautiful quilt. I can only be human if mayhem is raging under the surface of the lie I built bubbling over pressure building scales tipping. There is something terribly irreparably broken. There is a darkness that was terribly irreparably woken I can only be ok if my world is crumbling apart. Because something inside screams for chaos.
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Jan 29, 2019
Jan 29, 2019 at 3:50 AM UTC
screaming for chaos
I can not be ok unless my world is crumbling apart. I can only stretch my limbs around your calamity tie them in a bow, if my eucatastrophe catastrophically collapses. The more my mind becomes at peace, the more I stay awake at night staring out my window into the ink shadow, And tango with the shattered moonlight. Nostalgia consumes Slip and plummet into a cataclysmic monsune So I welcome you, I beg you, rip my heart to shreds make my mind a mess. Defile my body and brake my sprit, burn my tattered shreds in the blazing fire of your hate. Look at it insanity, everywhere, everything I will drown in it, I will drown in the screams. Humanity clings But pain, the saviour the messiah is the only thing that makes me feel okay the only way I can tell fantasy from fiction pain is the only thing that keeps my devils at bay. I am the creator of my own catastrophe, I am the designer of my own tragedy. Agony. I am both my antidote and poison, the repercussions of one are felt at magananimous magnitudes of the other. A never ending cycle. Estranged peace, unwonted quite. Lock myself in a small room let darkness take me, insanity break me, my demons create me, the evils of the world dance in that room, they dance with me. This is my estranged peace, this is my unwonted quite. I smile, a smile so out of place, put on my mask to cover my face. I gather my shreds and sow them into a terrorizingly beautiful quilt. I can only be human if mayhem is raging under the surface of the lie I built bubbling over pressure building scales tipping. There is something terribly irreparably broken. There is a darkness that was terribly irreparably woken I can only be ok if my world is crumbling apart. Because something inside screams for chaos.
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47
mass slaughter of innocent kids aye abhor, an undeniable chance, some and/or all those slain Valentine' Day 2018, would be alive borne out in living color before killing spree resulted in unwonted deaths, when deputy Scot Peterson abdicated his chief chore and did not intervene (perhaps... playing positive pivotal role)that fateful day, but walked up to a closed door then rode a golf cart February fourteenth (appearing dumbfounded as Eeyore) when seventeen people killed (lying dead on the floor) inside the Parkland, Fla. school seeds bracketed speculation galore, sans officer at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School did ignore Shooting not "FAKE" baffles and begs question, why bemused mentioned deputy did not strong arm gunman Nikolas Cruz, Who unloaded his AR-15 inside the school settling revengeful dues as said killer explained, which no skew logic can excuse as the latter indiscriminately brandished barrel that fired bullets at random youths (unwitting targets) lighting a fuse of explosive rage, and (leaving no iota of doubt) lose zing no chance against death penalty, as surveillance video released into news media Thursday (July 15th), truth one cannot refuse to see, where young baby faced assassin blithely pumped bullets dooming lives, whose shoes unable to outrun as classmates got felled by ones and twos.
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Mar 15, 2018
Mar 15, 2018 at 4:29 PM UTC
Inaction Of One Man
You concealed it Were you ashamed? I saw it in every thing about you and for a minute it made me sad You are not dimensionless Though I once thought so You dizzy the stars within me but I think I make yours go still -cj
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Jul 19, 2014
Jul 19, 2014 at 12:36 PM UTC
unwonted
i'm restless and unwonted, i don't think that's what you want. no one really does.
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May 26, 2014
May 26, 2014 at 8:11 AM UTC
Untitled