Poems by Jordan A. Leturgez

In the shadowed halls where silence dwells,
A parchment rests, spellbound in its spells,
Its ink a whisper of fate's cold decree,
A silent breath caught in time's tapestry.

A death warrant, etched by fate's cruel hand,
A savage tale in a desolate land,
Where hopes once flourished, now wither and fade,
In the heart of the strong, a dimming cascade.

The clock ticks louder in the hushed, dark room,
Each second a shudder, heralding doom,
Stars flicker uncertain in the vast, distant night,
As dreams slip away, swallowed by the blight.

Yet, in this saying of sorrow and dread,
Lives the spirit unbroken, refusing the thread,
For each life is a sonnet, composed with pure grace,
A fleeting ballad that time can't erase.

So gather ye roses, while still they abound,
And dance with your shadows on this hallowed ground,
Embrace every heartbeat, each laugh and each tear,
For life's deepest meaning dwells not in fear.

In the echo of darkness, let love be your light,
For even in death, there's a shimmer of bright.
Embrace every moment, let passion ignite,
For the story's not over; the soul takes to flight.

In shadows deep where whispers creep,
The heartbeats echo, secrets keep;
Each dawn awakens, like a fight,
In quiet corners, wrong and right.

The armor built of fear and doubt,
In every child, in every shout;
We craft our shields from words unspoken,
A fragile bond, a heart unbroken.

Yet battles rage in hidden eyes,
A mother's prayer, a father's sighs;
The struggle not with sword or flame,
But with the world that feels like shame.

For safety is a fortress high,
Built with soft hugs and lullabies,
Yet storms may come with merciless rain,
And dreams feel shackled with unseen chains.

But rise we will, with hands entwined,
In every heart, the brave aligned;
For love can turn the tides of fear,
And from our wounds, we'll forge what's dear.

In every whisper, every plea,
In streets of sorrow, fields of glee;
We'll sow the seeds of hope anew,
For safety battles start with you.

So let the lights of courage burn,
With every twist, a chance to learn;
Together, we'll unfurl the skies,
In unity, our spirits rise.

The pen, the shield, the voice, the song,
In safety's name, we all belong;
In every heart, a warrior's tale,
Through love and trust, we shall prevail.

In the cradle of dusk, where shadows entwine,
Love blooms like roses with thorns so divine.
A heartbeat, a whisper, a sigh in the night,
Yet wrapped in the velvet of a lingering fright.

Oh sweet serenade of the heart's soft refrain,
Each note is a marvel, yet laced with a stain.
For every caress brings a flicker of flame,
And passion ignites what we never can tame.

We dance through the fields, where dreams trace the skies,
Yet fear stalks our steps, wearing truth in disguise.
With laughter like petals that fall in the breeze,
We cradle the laughter, but what of the grief?

For love is a river with currents unseen,
That carries the echoes of what might have been.
Promises slip through like sand in our hands,
Building castles of hope on unsteady strands.

In moments of bliss, our spirits align,
But the sorrow of longing, that bittersweet vine,
Wraps tighter around, chokes the breath of our joy,
As echoes of silence thwart hope to destroy.

Yet still, we believe in the power of pain,
In the lessons of hearts that take shelter from rain.
For love, in its grasp, may break us apart,
But with every fracture, it molds us a heart.

So let us embrace the anguish we bear,
In the tapestry woven of love and despair.
For each tear that glistens holds beauty untold,
In the bittersweet story of hearts brave and bold.

Neon hum, a quarter moon over green--
chalk dust like dry snow on the tip of fingers,
the felt a small country of its own,
pocketed with hungry, round promises.

A glass catches the light: amber, forgiving.
One swallow, and shoulders dissolve,
tongue loosens the little verbs that hold you tight.
Confidence arrives on soft feet,
a borrowed shape of courage that smells like citrus and oak.

You stand over the table and the world rearranges.
Angles grow generous, the cue feels longer,
your elbow unbolts, your breath slows to candlelight.
The cue ball answers like an old friend,
the break sings and for a heartbeat you are brilliant.

Then the second shot comes with tremor.
The world tips. Distances swell like mirrors.
Your eye that once read geometry now reads ghosts.
A straight line becomes a rumor,
a bank shot a superstition--what was sure is suddenly slippery.

Alcohol is a kindly thief and a cruel teacher:
it hands you a mask of fearlessness,
and behind it your hands may forget the lessons
paid for by practice, patience, repetition.
It smooths the edge of doubt and the edge of judgment alike.

Some nights it polishes the ordinary into art;
some nights it muffles the clue-scent of precision.
It can quiet the critic that stops your cue,
but it also quiets the small, precise voice that measures distance.

So ask the table, ask the felt: does it help?
The table answers in clacks and silences,
in the luck of a roll, the mercy of a pocket.
It tells you this--sometimes the drink is a lullaby
that lets skill awake for a while; sometimes it is a fog.

At last the cue lays down. The glass breathes its last.
You tally wins that taste like someone else's name,
and losses that feel like old weather returning.
Better? --for a night, perhaps. For a life at the table, rarely.

Aim, they say, is more than courage: it is steadiness of hand,
the long apprenticeship of counting angles, of falling and rising.
If you must bring a spirit to the game, let it be the spirit of practice,
of patience, clear eyes, and a hand that remembers the geometry of truth.

But when the neon is soft and the pool hall hums,
there is a kind of grace in the first, warm sip--
a temporary truce with your own doubt.
Just be careful which you pocket: the ball, or the bottle.

In the tapestry of existence, life dances on,
A symphony of moments, where grace is drawn.
With every beat of time, a new verse unfurls,
As the universe sings, and our stories swirl.

Life goes on, in relentless pursuit,
Through the highs and lows, it remains resolute.
Like a river's flow, it twists and turns,
Birthing joy and sorrow, as the flame of life burns.

In morning's embrace, the sun gently rises,
Painting the sky with hues of golden surprises.
A new day dawning, a canvas to create,
Opportunities abound, if we embrace fate.

Yet shadows may fall, casting doubt and despair,
Testing the strength within, calling us to bear.
But life goes on, like a phoenix unbound,
Rising from ashes, with courage profound.

Through love's tender touch, we find solace anew,
Healing scars of the past, embracing what is true.
In laughter and tears, we weave the tapestry,
Writing our stories, shaping our destiny.

Each breath we inhale, a precious melody,
Every heartbeat a reminder of mortality.
So, let us seize the hours, embrace the unknown,
For life goes on, in whispers, in cyclones.

In the silence of night, as the stars shimmer bright,
In the trials we face, and the moments of light,
May we find purpose in each step we take,
Navigating this journey, our souls wide awake.

For life goes on, an everlasting dance,
In its fragile beauty, we find our chance,
To love, to learn, to grow beyond what we've known,
A poetic reminder, that life's melody is sown.

So, let us cherish every moment we share,
Embrace the unknown, for life's wonders declare.
That though time may pass, and seasons may change,
Life goes on, a story forever arranged.

In this digital age, where screens consume our days,
A poetry I write, to rediscover life's vibrant ways.
For in this sea of technology, we often wander astray,
But fear not, dear souls, for a digital detox will lead the way.
Turn off the phones, unplug the wires,
Let nature's symphony ignite your inner fires.
Detach from the screens, reclaim your time,
Rediscover the beauty of a world so sublime.
Find solace in silence, embrace the reprieve,
Unburden your mind, let your soul receive.
Leave behind the notifications, the constant noise,
Embrace the grace of stillness and find your voice.
To reset the relationship with tech, seek balance and connect,
Engage in conversations, meaningful and direct.
Immerse yourself in passions that make your heart race,
Release the shackles of screens, let creativity embrace.
Discover the wonders of the analog world,
Be captivated by stories, unfold and unfurl.
Rekindle human connection, bask in togetherness,
For it is in these cherished moments, true joy we possess.
Engage your senses, let your imagination soar,
Reignite the flame of wonder you may have ignored.
Feel the warmth of sunsets, breathe in the scent of earth,
Let nature's healing touch guide your rebirth.
Reflect on moments far from screens' allure,
Seek mindfulness, find solace in the pure.
In solitude and reflection, your spirit shall mend,
Rediscovering yourself, your essence, my dear friend.
So, let us detach from the chains we have worn,
Reset our relationship with tech, let it be reborn.
Embrace the digital detox, let your soul be restored,
Find harmony amidst the chaos, life's blessings fully explored.

In shadows deep where shadows blend,
A whispered pact, a silent mend,
Where dreams take flight on tethered wings,
A commission to the heart that sings.

With ink like stardust, the quill takes flight,
Tracing paths through the long, dark night.
Words, like fireflies, dance and dart,
Each flicker igniting a yearning heart.

Oh, noble task, to carve out meaning,
From chaos stirred, to find the gleaning.
In the echo of silence, we seek the song,
As whispered hopes, both fragile and strong.

Gather the fragments, the world's sweet pain,
In verses woven, like drops of rain.
Each line a fulcrum, a bridge to cross,
Turning despair into joyous gloss.

Speak for the voiceless, the lost and the shamed,
For in every soul, deserving, unnamed,
A story is waiting, a cavern of light,
To break through the darkness, to ignite the night.

The commission, dear poet, is more than a role,
It's the art of connecting, the stitching of soul.
So pen down your truths, let the ink spill wide,
For in every heart's tale, the universe hides.

Let every stanza be a lighthouse flame,
A guiding light through the shadows of shame.
For when the world whispers, "You cannot, you shan't,"
In the flicker of verses, we dream and we chant.

So gather your courage, let your heart take flight,
In the service of beauty, let us unite.
For the commission of poetry is never in vain--
It's a spark of the cosmos, a balm for the pain.

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 a world where silence speaks the loudest,
Where moments flit and fade like fleeting shadows,
We interrupt this program, dear hearts, to pause--
A gentle call to notice, to ponder, to cause.

The hum of routine, a relentless parade,
Daydreams and deadlines, in twilight they wade,
But halt! Let the air be filled with still delight--
For beauty blooms softly in the depth of night.

We interrupt this program to savor the day,
To grasp at the whispers where soft wishes play,
Look closely, dear wanderers, at the petals' embrace--
In the mundane's allure, we find magical space.

Snapshots of laughter unfurl in the light--
The way shadows dance when day kisses night,
Here lies our story, a tapestry spun,
Each thread woven tenderly--hearts beating as one.

A pause for the weary, the lost and the brave,
To breathe in the silence, to cradle the wave--
For life is the canvas, a palette of grace,
We interrupt this program to find our true place.

So rise, gentle spirits, to write your own script,
In the theater of moments, let not your heart slip,
Together we gather, our voices entwine--
In this brief interruption, let your light brightly shine.

In the quiet dawn, beneath the breaking light,
Lies a fire that burns beyond mere sight.
Not just the talent that time may hone,
But a will that carves its path alone.

Skill may build the bridge, the steady hand,
But will ignites the daring to stand.
It whispers courage in the face of fear,
A voice unwavering, always near.

For skills can falter, fade, or bend,
But will persists, a steadfast friend.
It drives the heart through storm and still,
A force that bends the strongest will.

So when the world demands more than what we know,
It's will that helps us rise and grow.
Beyond the skill, beyond the thrill,
It's the unyielding, burning will.