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I am bored. There’s nothing interesting to watch. I only hear in the phone are celebrity gossips, politicians’ unkept promises, accidents, and the stagnant decay of the nation. When I am scrolling through games that **** the time, nothing beats up the vacant expression plastered to my face. When I finish the quest–then there’s another. Always another. If you want the easy way, it costs real money. The tech companies want only my money and attention, draining my life into endless torture. It’s a rat race, but the race is the torture and pain I have to begin with since the day I am born. I always see on YouTube how the corporation workers chained up to their desks, slaves to their bosses’ whims. I wasn’t born in a billionaire’s penthouse nor an old-money family. I am birthed by my mother in a place where things should be competed. As my youth flew into this century, colors faded—only black, white, and blue lived and sometimes hiding in the shadows of once was. The world is a monotonous hell, where the devils thrive and everything is bought with pain.
fish-sama Mar 26
Conquest.
Soldiers need release.
80 years ago, I,
young lady, Chinese,
would've been a slave—
thrusted deep in the front lines
rotting bodies,         disease, and knives
inside me.             I am
the evidence they must hide.

Lucky me. I watch Japanese TV
and music and teens. I love
Japanese novels and Japanese comics
and Japanese history. Lucky me,
two-thousand-twenty-five,
age fifteen, Chinese.
Comfort women, most commonly from Korea, China, and Southeast Asia, were forced into s_xual slavery to "comfort" Japanese soldiers during the war. They were often sent to the front lines, treated incredibly harshly, and massacred at the end of the war to hide the evidence. I'm not supporting hate towards Japan. The government has already apologized and paid reparation to the comfort women hurt during World War II. This shows humility and is a good example of how atrocities during war should be dealt with. This poem was just a thought I had while studying history and visiting World War II museums.
No mess is fantastic
Lack of respect leads to war
War is horrific, evil and poor
Racism is not chic
Modern slavery is painful
Hate is awful, hurtful and plentiful
There is no justice
They don’t really want peace
Hypocrisy is ubiquitous
Supremacy is senseless
Discrimination is tasteless
Their audacity is obvious
Corruption is rampant
And the economy decadent
This is absolute chaos
The whole thing is a mess
Less than nothing: worthless
Death shall come. Alas
At last to change the formula
That’s karma
Nothing is eternal
Power is ephemeral
Tomorrow is a song
Belonging to no one
I know I’m not wrong
I am addressing everyone
I am talking to the crowd
Without being too loud
Long live Respect and Peace!
Long live Love and Justice!

Copyright © March 2025, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.
MetaVerse Mar 22

The Honey Bee

Little buzzing Honey Bee,
Honey sweetens me and thee.
Thou art busy all the Day;
Busy Bee, thy Wings are gay.

Flowers bloom and showers fall;
Spring is springing over All.
Thou shalt work till Daylight's end.
Golden Bee, thou art my Friend!


The Beekeeper

Little buzzing Honey Bee,
Thou dost make my Gold for me.
Labour, Bee, because thy toil
Buys my meat and drink and oil.

Thou art mine: what thou dost make,
Slave! to Market I shall take.
Mine the Bee and mine the Earth,
Mine by Right of Human birth.
Compare to songs of innocence and experience by Blake and Watts.
chain-knees
sullied
debut of
tie
&
episodes. A
secret
trill,
like an
eagle's evil cry, lacerates the die-hard spirit of death and hardship.

~MIKELSON
Diasy chain is a wordplay in poetry where the letter that ends a word start another word.
Hebert Logerie Dec 2024
Bon appétit to all my fellow Haitians and friends,
Who'll be drinking, sipping, savoring Soup Joumou,
Which is made of squash, neck bones, macaroni, oxtails,
Carrots, yams, celery, parsley, and countless vegetables.

This is a powerful, yet historical soup,
With a strong message. This tradition
Started after the Battle of Vertières,
When the Haitian Army defeated the French.

Haiti fought and won its Independence,
On January 1st. 1804 in Gonaives, Haiti,
And became the very first Black Republic
In the world. Believe me, this is amazing.

Soup Joumou, yellow squash symbolizes Respect, Freedom,
Independence, Peace, Pride, Equality and Liberty. It stands
Against slavery, bigotry, racism, unfairness, lies, injustice,
White supremacy, nepotism, inequality and prejudice.

Our Haitian ancestors could not consume such a delicacy
Before, where only the Colonists, the Affranchis
Or the Freedmen could enjoy. The defeat of Gen. Rochambeau
By General Jean Jacques Dessalines had changed the entire scenario.

Please join all Haitians throughout the world by drinking,
Eating and savoring 'Soup Joumou', the Haitian squash soup,
On the first day of every year. Celebrate in memories of strong men,
And women who fought for Liberty, Equality and Fraternity.

Please read the history of the mysterious island of Haiti,
To enhance your knowledge of the world's history.
The Haitian People, in spite of constant internal fights,
Are strong, resilient, friendly, funny and intelligent.


Copyright © December 2016 Logerie Hébert, All Rights Reserved
Hebert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.
Hebert Logerie Nov 2024
They reside on the other side of the city
They bathe in the quiet and still fertility
They own yard-keepers and docile servants
Dogs, cats, hyenas and precious plants.

They breathe the camphorated air like us
Swallow the transparent and abominable dust
Cross over and fall in the muddy rivers like saints
Like our siblings living under the tiny tents.

They reside on the other side of the old towns
Over the mountains, not too far from the plains
They bathe in tranquil fertility
Of the country-side, not too far from the city.

They ignore that we are the same, the same formulas
And that we live and endure daily the same dilemmas
And one day, them and us, all of us will answer
Present in the river, under the bridge of forever.


Copyright © September 1982, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.
Verlecia F Oct 2024
bruises wear (where)
no one can
see

Unexplained trauma made
by professional assassin
who look handicapped
mentally or urban socially

leisurely poking
at tender flesh an teeth
and yet can not be seen

surely not of magic
but in it method's
of pure scientific mind
and it control

how many are their
or am i just one
of many thousands ?

could you please
give a dam about me

SOS
Real life in the USA -  if i did't live this - would be hard to believe - and all who did not help me - i could not understand - i am a slave - just writing it - thinking some person in the future - will think that was then can happen now - and that what i thought too!!!
person in the future - will think that was then, can happen now - and that what i thought too!!!
For history - give me back my good name!
10/27/2024 Sunday
Zywa Sep 2024
There is no beauty

with the dishes, not even --


a dream of real life.
Poem "No Images" (1924, William Waring Cuney), sung a cappella in 1966 by Nina Simone (album "Let it all out") --- Collection "Within the walls"
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