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I would pine with another in our resting by an older tree under the mellowness of the fields while listening to words of feeling, we are  rising with the pages of our lives soon to be lived and later penned in the books of the hereafter and us.
someone said
that turning pain
into art
takes guts.

they said it
about one of my poems —

called it inspiring.

then my job is done.
all i ever wanted
was to find someone
my words resonate with.
and in the process,
somehow,
i ended up
inspiring myself.

the pain i worked on,
moulded into poetry,
became my muse.
and when i feel low,
empty,
or bruised,
it calls to me
with its relentless tides,
half-formed stanzas
and mismatched lines,
until its whispers
become a symphony
i thought
only my heart
could hear.

i don’t need hurt
for my art anymore.
just give me a feeling,
give me a word,
and i’ll ask my poetry
to get back to work.
this one is about a comment and a love letter to poetry.
Quit it! Stop being hypocritical about freedom
What type or what kind that you are talking about?
Be serious! Keep on talking about freedom
Until you drive me to boredom
Until I am strong enough to eat a live trout
Keep on yelling freedom, freedom
Until you lose your kingdom
In Galatians 5: 1,13-15: we found these words, not in error
"You shall love as yourself your neighbor"
"But through love become slaves to one another"
"If, however, you bite and devour one another,
Take care that you are not consumed by one another"
Go read the Bible yourselves, ‘because we are free'
We are brothers and sisters, we should love one another
Yes, Christ died for our freedom, for our liberty
We want freedom in America
We want freedom in Cuba
We want freedom in Columbia
We want freedom in Haiti
Which is poor because of exploitation
Corruption, violence, hatred, pollution
Lies, extortion, racism, theft, distortion
Misery, slavery, crimes and discrimination
Stop, stop being hypocritical about freedom
Let's finish elaborating and talking about freedom
Before alluding to or commenting on democracy
Which is more twisted, complex, convoluted or mazy
Big brother is supposed to protect the little one
In this world, we should fight for freedom for everyone
For the rich, the poor, the underprivileged and the elderly
The strong must protect the weak one. Oh! Miss Liberty
Stands for something noble and divine for all
"For freedom Christ has set us free", so we can walk tall
So we can think freely
So we can wink freely
So we can talk freely
So we can walk freely
So we can laugh freely
So we can clap freely
So we can write freely
So we can chat freely
So we can dream freely
So we can invent freely
So we can yell freely
So we can enjoy life freely
While respecting each other
And protecting one another
Oh! Freedom, Freedom. Too many humans have senselessly
And falsely die in your name. Oh! Freedom. Oh! Liberty.

Copyright © July 2021, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.
It’s not over, I’ve got paper and ink
I’m not done with what I think
A thought for the moment, here in time
A word for the page, all in rhyme

Drifting, my mind picks a spot
Telling it all, everything I’ve got
Wouldn’t try and change it
Didn’t try to rearrange it

These things just happen to me
Once a thought, my pen makes me see
Twisting and turning, inside my mind
Words and feelings only I can find

9/12/25
From just the other day.
Rain 5d
The lines on my thighs,
Paint and tell stories.
About my lows and highs,
About my hurt and loneliness.

Some blur together,
Story behind each forgotten.
Just a permanent keeper,
Of pain once written.

But some I can point to,
Tell you exactly who caused it.
The story of what they put me through,
How they made me wanna quit.

I won’t do that anymore,
I’ll accept that life hurts.
I won’t do what I did before,
I’ll put it into words.
Words are my alcohol
I am the drunk fool

On a bastardly night with no restraint

I must write, until my hands are satisfied

And if it kills me, so be it

At least my words will live forever

As pure, holy ink on a page
9/23/25
thus by prosecutor charg-ed, with this crime so heinous~ed,
the judge insisted on a super speedy trial, this, a special case-d

"can't wait to hang this ***** be~deviler,
got me a jail, second only to hell,
if he thinks his hifalutin lawyers will get him de-roped!"

I plead guilty to save the state some moola,
avoid the expense of all the attendant hoopla,
but in my tired defense, I said little but this,
it was god who cursed me with this word-ly power!

now I ain't saying I was naturally bad,
but who are you to judge me so harshly ,
when all I did, with a tool god~given, was,
tell people how beautiful they are, so close.
never far, from bringing them forth to their fruition

so my intentions were good, tho my goose is cooked,
loonily, this I truthfully willingly confess, though just as bad,
I was lazy, I was negligent, I am now hell-bent for many
infractions, the greatest, chiefest of them all, was all the times,

!!!!!
read a poem much beloved by other's on this blue earth,
weak from jealousy jealous, I never...reposted it! for their way
much better than mine, and I was too selfish to praise them,

so I expect I won't be too lonely in perdition, just another poet

                                                         ­   !!!!!!!!                                                      ­ addition

so children, teach your children well
a poet's hell will slowly go by, if they
fail to repost them hundreds of poems
that mak'em gasp~laugh-just plain weep,
for that will really **** (sorry lord) the one
true judge wh gave us this wordy blessing,
and is eagerly awaiting us special


sinners



and that just might be my one true name…

(Oh sinner~man!
where are you gonna run too)

[{(]})]

p.s. this poem readily available to be reposted ('jes a 'gestion)
even
plagiarized elsewhere, but remember, when you, who stole it,
somebody's a~watching whose
vision is unimpaired.
plus, I got new software invented by Ai trained teachers,
so so, easy to find ya...
whoa, this came to me so too easy, I think I better
go into hiding

https://hellopoetry.com/poem/5162248/call-me-by-my-other-name/
It starts with
a sound in
your head

an ie or
an aa
a pf or
whatever

in your boat
into morning.

So here
you are now,
your sounds

pull on words
like the clothes
that still hang
on your chair.

Once you
shape them
around you
they move
into meaning

of fresh hopes
and wishes
for a new day
ahead.

Eelco van der Waals
September 2025
Marwan Baytie Sep 19
Soft whispers bloom like morning light,  
Unadorned truths, pure hearts ignite.  
Each syllable falls, steady, bare,  
A tender gift, a breath of care.  

In quiet tones, wisdom takes root,  
With honesty, no need for suit.  
The soul speaks best in moments small,  
Love's echo rising, heard by all.
Specks of black pepper tickle my throat
My body jolts
We could hardly cook let alone season food
Specks of black pepper make me laugh when I think of you

I can remember that Winter as if it was forever
It brings me back to you
Cabin fever, baby, we were fresh and new

Specks of black pepper tickle our throats,
we laugh as we choke

The dryness of cold weather
Warmth of the fire
Never found a better use of black pepper
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