My Pen Is Weeping Blood / Ma Plume Pleure Du Sang Poem by Hebert Logerie

My Pen Is Weeping Blood / Ma Plume Pleure Du Sang



My Pen Is Weeping Blood

My pen is mourning the agonies and the sufferings
Of my people, who are drowning in the sea of misery.
My keyboard' strokes are shadowing the slow rhythms
Of the wandering beggar, who's lost in the sanctuary.

My voice denounces the filthy cholera and the injustices,
Which are punishing the weakest souls of the valley.
A tiny oligarchy is meagerly being rewarded;
What a shame for a man-made world corrupted with vices!

My brush defaces the inequality and the imbalance,
Which fool the image of a so called free world.
My laser beams burn the iris of the blind peasants,
Who can now see clearly the mini-sketch of my people.

I am the brother-in law of the cowardly executed poet
And the great-grandson of the poorest assassinated emperor.
I abhor the vanity and the lowliness of mankind in horror,
Oh! Lord, I'm going to read aloud twelve psalms, from my seat.

My pen is mourning my people,
Who are innocently digesting the giant toxic apple.
My voice is seduced by the wind of liberty,
Which echoes the piercing screams of the hungry baby.

Copyright© November,2010, Hebert Logerie, All Rights Reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of four books of poems:
‘Etincelles de l'Amour', ‘Monts et Vallées de l'Amour',
‘Sparkles of Love' and ‘Mounts and Valleys of Love'
https: //www2.xlibris.com/bookstore/bookdisplay.aspx? bookid=58359
http: //www.poemhunter.com/hebert-logerie/


Ma Plume Pleure Du Sang

Ma plume pleure les outrances et les souffrances
De mon peuple qui se noie dans la misère
Mon stylo stylise les lentes cadences
D'un mendiant qui s'égare au sein de la galère.

Ma voix dénonce le sale choléra et l'injustice
Qui punissent tout être qui respire dans la vallée
Un clan oligarchique se voit maigrement récompenser
Quelle honte pour un monde corrompu de vices!

Mon pinceau démasque l'inégalité et le déséquilibre
Qui bottinent tout un univers soi-disant libre
Des flocons de laser brûlent l'iris des aveugles
Qui voient très clair le mini-tableau de mon peuple.

Je suis le gendre du poète lâchement exécuté
Et le petit-fils du plus pauvre empereur assassiné
J'abhorre la vanité et la mièvrerie de l'homme
Oh! Yavhé! Je vais réciter une douzaine de tes psaumes.

Ma plume pleure pour mon peuple
Qui boit l'absinthe comme un aveugle
Mon souffle balayé par le vent de la liberté
Est pareil aux soupirs perçants des paysans empoisonnés.

Copyright© Novembre,2010, Hebert Logerie, Tous Droits Réservés
Hébert Logerie est l'auteur de quatre recueils de poèmes:
‘Etincelles de l'Amour', ‘Monts et Vallées de l'Amour',
‘Sparkles of Love' and ‘Mounts and Valleys of Love'
https: //www2.xlibris.com/bookstore/bookdisplay.aspx? bookid=58359
http: //www.poemhunter.com/hebert-logerie/

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Akhtar Jawad 10 April 2018

My pen is mourning my people, Who are innocently digesting the giant toxic apple. My voice is seduced by the wind of liberty, Which echoes the piercing screams of the hungry baby.....great write.

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