Poems by Jordan A. Leturgez

n the hush of dawn, where whispers dwell,
And the sky blushes pink, weaving stories to tell,
I lace up my dreams, let the heartbeat ignite,
With each breath I take, I embrace the soft light.

The pavement beneath is a canvas, unspooled,
As my feet kiss the ground, where the world's whispered rules
Fade into the rhythm, a symphony sweet,
Each step a reminder, each heartbeat a beat.

The air stirs with whispers of wild, free delight,
As the sun casts its fingers, painting shadows in flight.
Breath after breath, I shed yesterday's weight,
With every good run, I dance with my fate.

The trees nod their heads, in a gentle accord,
Their leaves flutter secrets, I feel my soul stored
In the laughter of miles, cascading like streams,
Where hope intertwines with the fabric of dreams.

A rush of adrenaline flows through my veins,
An elixir of freedom that courses through pain.
Oh, how the world shifts, when my spirit takes flight,
In a cascade of motion, I glide into night.

And the finish line beckons, a shimmer ahead,
With the fires of passion burning brightly instead.
For it's not just the distance, nor medals of speed,
But the journey's sweet whispers -- they nurture my need.

So here on this path, I find pieces of me,
In the echo of footsteps, in the love that is free.
Each run is a heartbeat, each mile a soft hymn,
In the tender illumination, where my spirit can swim.

Let the world hold its breaths, as I celebrate grace,
For a good run is life, and with each stride, I embrace
The laughter of joy and the sweet, tender ache,
In this rhythm of motion, my heart cannot break.

In the quiet folds of twilight's breath,
Questions linger like shadows, whispering yet,
Stars dangle like hopes on a fraying thread,
In the silence of longing, my heart's eager plea:
Oh, answer me.

Where do the echoes of dreams softly go,
When the dawn blushes pink and the night says hello?
I stand on the edge of an unbroken sea,
Waves crashing with secrets, and oh, do they know?
Please, answer me.

In the depths of your eyes, do you find the same fear,
The tremor of silence that draws us so near?
For words left unspoken can weight heavy, you see,
Yet the truth in your silence could set the heart free--
Just, answer me.

What if the skies were to fall in a rush,
And we stood together in the midst of the hush?
Would the universe fold in the warmth of your decree,
Or would time freeze forever, caught in what could be?
Nay, answer me.

For in the stillness, I seek your embrace,
A language unvoiced, yet we dance in the grace,
Each sigh and each heartbeat syncopates our decree,
In the symphony of souls, will you choose to be?
Please, answer me.

So here as the moon cradles the sun's fading light,
I cast out my question into the deep night,
In the tapestry woven of longing and glee,
If the stars hold the answers, will you set them free?
Just once, answer me.

Every other city we go becomes a small religion --
a cathedral built from our suitcases, ticket stubs,
and the way you cup your hands around a steaming cup
like it might confess the route it took to find you.

In Marseille the sea taught us how to argue softly,
blue and salt between our teeth; in the next place
we learned to speak in corners, in leftover bread,
the quiet grammar of two people trying not to leave traces.

Every other city we go keeps a piece of your jacket,
laces knotted into memory, a receipt folded like a prayer.
One city glows with neon and stolen kisses at three a.m.;
the next is a photograph of a bench where we apologized
for the weather and for everything else we could not change.

There are cities where we sleep like travelers in borrowed names,
where strangers offer directions and we are grateful for the past.
There are cities where the lamps throw our shadows long and hopeful,
where we map each other on the backs of postcards and hotel keys.

Every other city we go is a ledger of small miracles:
the street musician who taught us a chorus, the bakery that kept our secret,
the taxi driver who listened and refused to fix our problems.
Between them, in the odd ones, the silence gathers meaning,
a quiet room where we relearn how to be two without decaying.

By the time we learn the language of stoplights and rain,
the orbit of our feet has become a constellation.
We carry cities like coins--some bright, some worn flat--
and when we press them to our palms at night they still hum,
like a promise we are not sure we ever made but keep anyway.

Every other city we go is not a loss but a ledger of living:
an atlas of small departures and the tender ways we return.
When the plane lifts its hands and the skyline thumbnails away,
I count the spaces between us and know: we are always building home
out of the few things we keep--each other, and the names we refuse to forget.

Say it once like folding an old letter--
the edges soften, the ink blurs,
a confession turned into paper boats
set out on a late-summer river.
Nevermind, and the current takes it,
not cruel, not kind, simply moving.

Say it soft as moth wings against a lamp,
a small apology for wants that burned too bright.
Nevermind becomes a lullaby for the stubborn heart,
a quiet room where arguments unpeel
and sunlight finds the dust in forgiving ways.

There is a strange mercy in the word:
not erasing, but shelving--putting the ache
on a high shelf where we can see it, not live in it.
Nevermind teaches hands to unclench,
teaches mouths to close around the sharp things.

Sometimes it is a door left ajar,
sometimes an ocean swallowing a name.
It is not surrender to the night--more like
learning the map of your own soft places,
tracing the seams where sorrow and relief meet.

Say it when you must: to a fault, to a friend, to the mirror.
Let it be small and human, a bell rung for passage.
Nevermind--three syllables that carry a cross and a key,
a weathered hush that somehow clears the room,
and leaves you ready, at last, for morning.

In the heart of the cosmos, where the void expands,

Brave souls rise like thunder, with courage in their hands,

Starship Troopers tread the celestial seas,

Defenders of dreams, sworn to fight for peace.

Beneath the strange planets, where shadows can creep,

They battle the nightmares that haunt in their sleep.

In exosuits gleaming, they march into night,

Against the fierce arachnids, they stand to ignite.

The echoes of duty ring loud in their chests,

Each soldier remembers the weight of the quest.

For honor and glory, for a distant home,

Through nebulae swirling, their spirits will roam.

Flashes of blasters cut through cosmic dark,

Where sacrifice breathes, and heroes leave their mark.

Yet deep in the chaos, a whisper takes flight--

What does it mean to be free in this fight?

Amidst all the battles, a truth intertwined,

That questions of power and love must align.

In the depths of the void, where the stardust is spun,

Life's beauty and struggle are forever as one.

So let us remember, in tales etched in flame,

The legacies woven in honor and name.

Starship Troopers, through the darkness they strive,

With dreams in their hearts, they keep hope alive.

In the stillness of a mother's gaze,

Lies a heart that's led astray,

A betrayal unseen, a wound concealed,

In shadows where secrets play.

A child's trust, a sacred bond,

Shattered by a mother's hand,

Innocence lost, love turned to ash,

In a world where pain commands.

Through tear-stained eyes, a daughter weeps,

For a love that's now betrayed,

A mother's arms that once brought solace,

Now a source of shadows cast.

Betrayal cuts like a sharpened knife,

Through the bonds that once held tight,

Leaving scars upon the tender soul,

In the darkness of the night.

But within the depth of sorrow's grasp,

There blooms a seed of truth,

That despite the pain and bitter loss,

Love's resilience will soothe.

For a mother's betrayal may wound and scar,

Yet in forgiveness, hearts can heal,

And in the ashes of betrayal's flame,

A stronger bond may steal.

So let the tears fall like gentle rain,

And cleanse the wounds of old,

For in the heart's deep well of grace,

New stories can unfold.

In the twilight hum of city streets,

Where shadows dance and heartbeat greets,

A rhythm pulses through the night,

Whispers of tales, both dark and bright.

With every step, the pavement sings,

A story woven in the fabric of things,

This is how we do it, bold and free,

In the tapestry of life, our symphony.

The laughter spills like summer's rain,

A melody sweet, a soft refrain;

Voices rise and merge as one,

In the glow of the moon, we come undone.

It's in the warmth of a stranger's smile,

In the embrace that lingers a while;

We gather joy, like stars above,

This is how we do it, through grace and love.

Through trials faced, through battles fought,

In every lesson that time has taught,

We find our strength in each other's eyes,

In broken dreams that learn to rise.

So here we stand, with hearts aglow,

Together in the rhythm, the ebb, and flow;

This is how we do it, hand in hand,

United in spirit, a boundless band.

With every laugh, with every tear,

We carve our path, we own our fear;

This is how we do it, strong and true,

A living poem, a dream anew.

In shadows deep where whispers dwell,
A figure stands, a tale to tell,
With every clash and cry that swells,
A heart of iron, cast in hell.

Unyielding spirit, fierce and bold,
A rebel's fire, refusing to fold,
Injustice drips like rain, uncontrolled,
Each action a story, defiant and told.

A mirror held to society's face,
Unveiling truths in a heated embrace,
They shout of change, of a better place,
Yet, scorned by many, met with disgrace.

They walk the line 'tween right and wrong,
A gang of poets, a chorus of song,
With ink for blood and resolve so strong,
They'll fight the silence, where darks belong.

To stir the souls, to awaken the blind,
With words as weapons, fiercely aligned,
For every enemy, a truth to find,
In their rhythm, the pulse of the resigned.

So watch them rise, these public foes,
From ashes of silence, their legacy grows,
In every heartbeat, their passion flows,
The charm of their chaos, where revolution glows.

In a world so loud, where comfort conforms,
They dance with danger, they weather the storms,
For through the struggle, a new norm transforms,
In the heart of the outcast, true hope reforms.

So stand beside them, or stand aside,
Feel the tremor of truth as they bide,
A poetry fierce, with nowhere to hide,
For the public enemy is the voice of our pride.

Before I let you go, let me linger

In the sweetness of your gaze, in the touch of your fingers

Let me memorize the curve of your smile

And the way your laughter dances for a while

Before I let you go, let me stay

In the warmth of your presence, in the words you say

Let me hold onto this moment so dear

Before it fades away, before you disappear

Before I let you go, let me savor

The essence of your being, the love we favor

Let me cherish the memories we've made

And the bond that will never fade

Before I let you go, let me promise

To carry you with me, to keep you close

For though our paths may diverge and part

You'll always reside in the depths of my heart

Before I let you go, let me thank

For the joy you brought, for the love you stank

And though goodbye may be bittersweet

Our connection will forever beat

In the realm of dreams, where memories dwell,

A tapestry of moments, woven well.

Total Recall, a journey divine,

To traverse the landscapes of the mind.

Visions of past, like whispers in the night,

A tapestry of colors, dancing in delight.

Each recollection, a spark ablaze,

Igniting the soul in a fiery blaze.

Through corridors of time, we wander free,

Exploring the depths of our memory.

Every moment, every joy, every tear,

Etched in the fabric of our yesteryear.

Total Recall, a gift so rare,

To relive the past with tender care.

In the tapestry of life, we find our place,

Bound by memories, bound by grace.