My friends, the most beautiful poems
Written with sweet words are surprisingly new
My saying is not to bugger neither Alfred de Musset
Nor Lamartine, nor Senghor, nor Vilaire, nor Victor Hugo
Nor Catullus, nor Plautus, nor Diop, nor Maya Angelou
They did their things and time centuries ago
It's another season, another eternal
For the newly emerging poets
Who use their pens as whips.
We fully understand that some poems
Are like good and delicious wines
Okay, the beauty and the greenery of the pines
Are perpetual and natural. The wind sows
Sometimes from west to east or from south to north
The lukewarm, hot, cool and cold air, without remorse
Young poets are as great as the old ones
Which the whole world worships with envious whims.
Copyright © January 2022, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.