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Un nouveau Pape
Un nouvel espoir
Adieu au Pape François
Qui a fait un travail merveilleux en tant que Grand Clergé
Comme nous le savons, l'âge ne croit pas aux dynasties
Nous allons, venons et partons comme un baiser
Le sang neuf est nécessaire de temps en temps, aujourd’hui
Et bien sûr, c'est naturel ; ce n'est pas un crime, un délit
Novum papam habemus
Novum spem habemus
Nous avons un nouvel espoir
Nous avons un nouveau Pape
Un nouveau chef pour l'Église catholique
La recherche est terminée, finies la recherche et la polémique
Depuis quelques décennies, aucun homme ni aucune femme n'est éternel
Les Papes récents ont été amicaux, humbles, sincères et universels
Que ce pontife soit meilleur que le précédent
(Pas de quoi rire) Qui est assis au Ciel
En train de classer et de signer ses documents
Où d'innombrables Anges chantent sous les tentes divines
Le monde actuel est plongé dans une situation désastreuse et maligne :
Mensonges, crimes, corruption, expulsions, discrimination et impunité
Bon sang, c'est le moins qu'on puisse dire
Cependant, le monde entier aspire :
À la paix, la paix et la paix
Nous voulons que tous les cauchemars cessent :
L'injustice, les guerres, l’hypocrisie, le racisme, l’intolérance et la pauvreté
Habemus novum spem
Habemus novum papam
Nous avons un nouvel espoir
Nous avons un nouveau Pape
Que Dieu bénisse le nouveau Pontife, la nature et l'humanité !

Copyright © 8 mai 2025, Hébert Logerie, Tous droits réservés.
Hébert Logerie est l'auteur de plusieurs recueils de poèmes.
A new Pope
A new hope
Farewell to Pope Francis
Who did a wonderful job as a great clergy
As we know, age believes in no dynasty
We come and we go like a kiss
New blood is needed from time to time
And of course, that’s natural; that’s not a crime
Novum papam habemus
Novum spem habemus
We have a new hope
We have a new Pope
A new Leader for the Catholic Church
The search is over, no more search
For a few decades, since no man or woman is eternal
The recent Popes have been  friendly, humble and truthful
We expect the Pontiff to be better than the previous one
(No laughing matter) Who is sitting in Heaven
Filing and signing his proper documents
Where countless Angels are singing under the divine tents
The world is right now deep in a messy situation:
Lies, crimes, corruption, deportation and discrimination
For crying out loud, this is to say the least
However, the entire world wants peace, peace and peace
We want all nightmares to end: injustice, wars and poverty
Novum spem habemus
Novum papam habemus
We have a new hope
We have a new pope
May God bless the new Pontiff, Mother Nature and Humanity!

Copyright © May 8, 2025, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.
You…

with your eyes fixed on fire,
on skies that never blink.
You’ve memorized verses,
but forgotten how to think.

You search the wind for commands,
while hearts beat beside you,
unheard.
You shout the name of God
but miss Him in a stranger’s word.

Look down, brother.
No-“ - look around.
See the dust,
the children,
the cracks in the ground.
That’s where truth spills,
quiet as rain.
That’s where faith lives
not in thunder,
but in pain.

There’s no ladder to climb,
no sky to ascend.
The divine is not distant
He’s the hand of a friend.

So loosen your grip.
Unfold your fists.
The kingdom you seek
already exists.
This piece is a gentle plea to those who seek the divine only in the skies, forgetting that the sacred often lives in the eyes, hands, and hearts of the people around us. True spirituality is not escape, it is presence.
Makes a house a Home
Woman, Wife Mother, for Life
Greatest of all LOVE


Inspired songs;
1) Let It.Be
By The Beatles

“Let it be” is an universally relatable message
Many interpreted as the warmth and peace of unconditional love from a mother.

2) You’ll Be In My Heart (mother)
By Phil Collins

3) Song For Mam
By Boyz II Men

Free Verse /Modern
Haiku
A modern haiku, like their traditional counterpart are short, focused on a single, a vocative moment or experience.
They often use strong imagery to create an impression on the reader.
While the 5 – 7– 5 syllable structure is often considered a starting point for traditional haiku modern haiku, poets are often experimenting with different line lengths and syllable counts. According to the haiku foundation and the poetry foundation. Traditional haiku have to do in nature..
While other types deal with human nature. It can be confusing, identifying the different types of haiku without, The poet.
Haiku is a wonderful expression of poetry.
English haiku differs from Japanese haiku as the language gives a different syllable count.
I call this poem a modern haiku in that it is using the theme of human frailty instead of nature,
even given the option of a different line syllable length as a traditionalist fundamental structure should not be altered.

Three lines
syllable count
5-7-5
5-11-2025 Mother’s Day
Here's the limit
Stopping short such careless ease
It reaches in and grips and I
just hope that I don't leave
it all exposed, the brick & mortar
to the humidifying heat
I know to take it out on you is petty,
childish, and mean
And I am so mature, I'm quiet
as the words begin to freeze
The screaming, small injustices
that bitterness loves to keep
Tonight in bed, a mantra
Is the devil on repeat
Running laps inside my head
Until I can finally sleep
Then tomorrow I'll forgive you
My walls crumbling like leaves
A day of autumn in the summer
For another day of peace
Words haunt me,                                                              ­                                                    
                                                                ­                                          
forming
unprovoked,                                                      ­                                        
                                                                ­                                            
growing inside   me,                                                              ­                                                              
  ­                                                                 ­                                               
stuck in my
throat                                                           ­                                               
                                                                ­                                              
Keeps me up
nightly,                                                         ­                                       
                                                                ­                                      
sometimes I must
write,                                                           ­                       
                                                                ­                                                
can't take it
lightly,                                                         ­                                   
                                                                ­                                                    
till I make it right                                                            ­                        
                                        ­                                                                
Pushing,
evolving,                                                        ­                                          
                                                                ­                                        
thoughts in my
head,                                                            ­                                                
                ­                                                                 ­                           
puzzle solving,                                                         ­                       
                                         ­                                                                 ­  
writing in my
bed                                                              ­                                        
                                                                ­                                          
Causing
anxiety                                                          ­                                        
                        ­                                                                 ­                             
if I don't get it out                                                              ­                        
                                        ­                                                                 ­             
It stays in my
memory                                                           ­                       
                                         ­                                                                 ­        
and jumbles about                                                            ­                          
                                      ­                                                                 ­     
Finally, the ******,                                                          ­                      
                                                                ­                                                  
I've got it all down,                                                            ­                                    
                            ­                                                                 ­                           
 as I try to go
  back,                                                         ­                                     
                           ­                                                                 ­                          
to sleep safe &
sound                                                            ­                              
                                  ­                                                                 ­             
Like a leaky
faucet,                                                          ­                                  
                              ­                                                                 ­                       
it comes back
on,                                                              ­                                  
                                                                ­                                                  
I've had
enough,                                                          ­                                      
                                                                ­                                                        
I write until dawn
For anyone who can't stop feeling, can't stop writing, you know what I mean
In a distant land, a city bright,
Where olive trees bathed in golden light.
Fields of oranges, ripe and sweet,
Where children’s laughter filled the streets.

The markets buzzed with joy and song,
With bread and sweets the day stretched long.
And in the air, so soft and near,
The call to prayer, both calm and clear.

A boy named Adil, young and free,
Kicked a ball beside the sea.
His laughter rang through ocean’s roar,
His joy, untouched, his spirit pure.

The sky, once bright, shattered apart,
A deafening BOOM that shook the tide.
The earth exploded, a deafening roar,
Shaking the heavens, tearing the floor.

Adil, still laughing, thought it was a game,
Chasing his cousin, calling his name.
But with each step, the world shook more,
And childhood crumbled to the floor.

His cousin’s grip was all he knew,
They ran, though neither understood.
“What game is this?” young Adil cried,
As they fled with nowhere to hide.

They ran through streets of bloodied cries,
Each corner echoing with broken skies.
Adil, with innocence in his chest,
Held his cousin’s hand, still thinking this was a test.

Where once stood a shop full of sweets,
Now rubble, fire, and twisted streets.
The joy he knew had turned to dust,
The city crumbled—lost to rust.

Still, Adil ran, his mind confused,
This had to be a game, he mused.
“Mama,” he whispered, wild with dread,
But this was not a game he had been led.

Through empty streets, they ran in vain,
Until cold metal came like rain.
A machine, massive, towering high,
Once seen in movies—now his sky.

Adil stood, still thinking it’s a race,
The terror too real, too much to face.
“Is this the game?” he thought in fear,
But the nightmare pressed far too near.
This poem reflects the innocence of childhood, and how quickly that innocence can be shattered by the horrors of war. It was inspired by the ongoing conflict in Gaza and the devastating impact on children caught in the crossfire. I wanted to show the heartbreaking reality that innocent souls, full of hope and joy, are forced to endure such unimaginable pain
Juno 3d
My mother told me today the fact,
That more bombs had been dropped on Gaza by the Israelis,
That the whole of world war 2
-world war 2.

When learning about the horrors of the holocaust,
The obvious question arises-
How did that happen?
How did no one help?
How did no one notice?
Is so unfortunately clear now,
People don’t care,
Somehow
I could not tell you why,
I could not begin to understand

You’d think,
We all thought,
It would never happen again,
But if it did-
The whole world would stop,
But of course, once again, it is not

While many people care,
And help as much as they can,
There too many people,
so many governments,
Who turn a blind eye-
HOW?
Are they not human?
Maybe some people don’t know,
Yet I find that hard to believe,
People would rather stay ignorant,
It’s easier I suppose,
‘Ignorance is bliss’-
Ignores them to carry on with their lives,
But what about their lives?

And these right wing news companies,
Never telling the full truth,
They’d only report about the one missile that got through to Israel by Yemen,
But never dare to mention the hundreds,
Destroying
Slaughtering
Murdering
These poor innocent people,
Children who have only just began their life-
How can people say it’s not a genocide?
When over 60 000 people have been killed

More bombs than world war 2,
And the world protects the murders,
It makes me sick
My heart will forever break for them,
I will never not think of them-
The lost,
The murdered,
They cried out for help,
They will get their justice- I pray

I can imagine in the future,
The memorials and tributes,
To remember this horrible time,
Everyone in disbelief of how it happened,
Asking the same questions we did in school,
And what good is that,
To care when it is over,
When you could not even open your eyes
- To what happening right in front of you

-JJ
04/05/25
You lay there surprised
Knew these things happen
And that you need time
Mia J 4d
Why did skin color and race become one and the same?
Countless people have said that there’s only one race;
the human race.
But that’s false.
The color of one’s skin separates them from everyone else.
It’s as if we don’t all breathe oxygen.
Or talk in our own languages.
Or walk here and there and everywhere else.
Or have our own kinds of thoughts.
The only thing that makes us different is our skin color.
Literally,
that’s the only thing.

No one chose their skin color,
so why hate and discriminate based on it?
Speaking for myself,
I love being a black woman.  
I’m left with no other choice.
Everyone wants to keep me low,
but I go high.
Even though this world hates me the most,
I show it that I’m still going to step on its neck each
and every time.

Being a decent human being isn’t difficult.
What satisfaction is derived from being disrespectful to someone’s
who’s different from you?
If you had to wear the shoes of everyone
you blindly hate,
you’d be singing a much friendlier tune.
There’s enough ugliness in this world.
Hatred solves and proves nothing.
This Earth needs some serious cleansing.
And that can only happen by everyone
accepting that we’re all the same as the next person.

-Mia J
2/10/2021

© 2021 Mia J
This poem was composed in 2021
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