What a Sad Tuesday Afternoon - January 12,2010…
What a Sad Tuesday Afternoon - January 12,2010…
The Haitian tom-tom, the Compas will remain sad
For a long time
And the people, our people will remain mad
For some time
The seismic river of death
The painful tears have shredded
The fibers of the poor hearts embedded
Buried alive where few are left
Scrambling at the cataclysmic trial.
Dial 911, no response
Call, call, no dial, no dial
Tone, no rescuers, no dance
No dancing tonight
That’s right
All of the dancers
Are dead
The musicians are dead
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poem by Hebert Logerie
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Death
It's a phenomenon
It's an oxymoron
She takes us wherever she wants
Whenever she wants.
She says farewell
Haphazardly when we think all is well
And extemporaneously when the Almighty Man
In Heaven
Wants to gather His children.
Death always comes as a surprise
It's a pain that does not discriminate
Against small and big prize
Against the poodle and the isolate.
At will, she takes us by the hand
Escorts us to the Rand
To our last home, to the sepulture
Like a refuse of Mother Nature.
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poem by Hebert Logerie
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The Weeping Moon
Witnessing the blood baths, the massacre
Of God’s people, children’s bodies everywhere,
And octogenarians expire slowly and quietly in horror.
The undistorted and the vivid images of terror,
The ugly realities of life for millions; what a rancor!
The large plumes of gray phosphorus smoke! There is nowhere
To hide. Showers of shrapnel, unprecedented heavy shellings,
White clouds of death and discriminating lynchings
Of everything that breathes, walks, runs and flies;
This is war, this is sheer terrorism! The God-flies;
Where are they when they are needed?
Our world should not be so muted,
So insensitive toward so many.
This is a shameful disaster, a pity…
To do nothing and hope for the awakening of the gods;
The worms, the flies, the rats and the tods
Must be happy. What an inhumane feast!
In this young century, we cannot find Peace.
The photos are real, and dying is not a joke.
The lenses of the camera recorded the blood soaked
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poem by Hebert Logerie
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Monsters
Believe it or not, their ubiquitous webs
Are everywhere; they are the dictators
Who kidnap, maim, torture and kill teachers,
Poets, ordinary folks and babies in their cribs.
They rob and ransack innocent citizens,
Steal elections and after a lifetime in power,
Categorically refuse to leave the tower.
Very often, they do everything to muzzle the chickens.
Monsters are constantly in disguise,
They are well dressed, they wear uniforms,
They know how to blend and to socialize.
Monsters, at every turn, want to control the dorms,
Manipulate the data, fool the media,
Hire henchmen and spread false propaganda.
Monsters behave like manipulative magicians,
They suck the air out of the innocent bystanders,
Befriend desperate and hungry musicians,
Surreptitiously inveigle the neighbors
To exteriorize their feelings, and they spy and lie,
At every opportunity; and at every occasion,
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poem by Hebert Logerie (February 2012)
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Tear Down The Walls
Tear Down the Walls
That was a powerful statement
Made by a serious President.
These words changed the continents
And the whole world.
Those words made a lot of sense
To the young and the old.
That was back then,
Why now, more walls are being erected?
I guess, we, humans,
Never learned from our shortsighted
Experience due to selfishness,
Greed, hypocrisy, and weakness.
There is always a humane way
To encircle the heavens with your concrete walls
And your venomously man-made bay.
No matter how tall
Is your fence, you cannot stop the air
From traveling and twirling in the atmosphere.
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poem by Hebert Logerie
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0.000,000
The last time, I looked at my checking account,
I saw a colossal bunch of zeroes, six figures,
With a zero in front of the other numbers;
I had zero interest credited to my account.
I started laughing, I started to count
The zeroes. I said to myself, let pretend
That I was B. Gates or Buffett, with all of their billions;
Dreaming ostentatiously large in a foreign land,
Where my shoes sunk in a box full of onions.
(I must confess that money has a funky smell,
Just like a sweaty accountant who has not showered
For days, or a stressful peddler without a daily sale.)
I was on cloud nine - dreaming and
Hallucinating. I was chilling out on the sand,
And living care free like a happy vagabond,
Like an audacious and brave actor named James Bond
On vacation. Suddenly, I began to realize that zeroes
Can have different meanings, and being rich
Or poor is a state of mind. The beach
Is full of bathers, folks and foes,
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poem by Hebert Logerie
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The Dream Lives On
The dream shall never die
Hope is eternal for dreamers.
My eyes are wet; you were such a great guy
You made mistakes, mishaps, errors
Acknowledged them your way
And defended with zeal the underprivileged.
Some undermined your knowledge
Until they realized that you did not play.
You always kept your promise
And fought for everyone’s civil rights.
Alive you were more than one candle, your lights
Shone and smiled during the entire mass.
What a giant smirk for such a Senator
Who was a vociferous Poet, a great Orator.
Great men and women don’t quit this land
Without leaving their marks on the stand.
A well-earned standing ovation for your candor
Generosity, devoutness and kindness.
Poor and disadvantaged people’s weakness
Became strength and amazing power
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poem by Hebert Logerie
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Speak Out…
Shout! Speak out against all types of wars.
Reject the referendum, that's a farce, a joke,
A small band-aid on a wound; that's all smoke.
Speak out against the criminal dictators,
Who are bombarding their own blood,
And killing countless babies, children,
Elders, women, and very sick men.
The people need food, neither death nor mud.
Denounce the lies, the crimes and the hypocrisies.
Let the traitors know that the whole universe
Is watching and taking notes of their atrocities.
The world saw the mass graves and witnessed diverse
Other criminal and egregious acts being perpetrated
On the defenseless civilians. The flood
Of blood is everywhere; the miseries,
The hunger, the sufferings and the hatred
Environments touch the ultimate priorities.
The whole world must speak out and shout
In unison: enough is enough, enough is enough.
Stop all violence; stop the pain and the slaughter.
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poem by Hebert Logerie (February 2012)
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Wall Street And The 99 Percent
You can bet your bottom or your upper dollar
Where there is money, there is a lot crooks,
Unimaginable corruption, chefs cooking the books,
Accountants being zealously creative, Auditors stealing the jar,
And Managers looking the other way, away from the sun.
Wall Street ignores the facts that it exists because of Main Street.
It is about time that it shows more respect and compassion
By doing the following: Stop all unfair exploitation,
Give the middle class and the poor something neat,
Free of surprises and bed bugs that can destroy all fun.
The Hedge Fund Managers ought to receive a substantial pay cut,
They already have money set aside for their tenth generation,
They should give the maids, the babysitters better compensation,
So they can live comfortably not like some sorry nuts
Who need daily prayers from a pervert priest and a sad nun.
Oh! It is unfortunate that the Mayor and the Police
Are not too happy that the protesters occupy the park.
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poem by Hebert Logerie (October 2011)
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The Seismic Event of January12,2010 in Haiti
No reporters could accurately describe
The immense damage or disaster
That took place on January 12,2010.
No poets could express the pain
That our people felt that day
When we were rocked so bad.
No artists could precisely sketch
The enormity of this earthquake
Where dark clouds had covered
And sucked the air out of the whole country.
No priests, pastors, imams or rabbis
Had enough words or knowledge
To preach about this event
Without becoming speechless at the end.
Haiti got hit, our poor Haiti
Our ill-prepared Haiti Thomas
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poem by Hebert Logerie (12 January 2012)
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