Poems by Jordan A. Leturgez

In the hush of dawn, where dreams ignite,
A whisper calls to hearts in flight,
A comet's tail through the velvet sky,
"Stay on target," it breathes with a sigh.

The world may swirl, a tempest's dance,
But in focused gaze lies the chance,
To weave through storms, to pierce the night,
A steadfast spark, our guiding light.

When shadows loom and doubts ensnare,
Hold tight to the vision, breathe in the air,
For every setback, a lesson learned,
Every flicker of hope, a fire burned.

Through valleys deep and mountains steep,
In the echo of silence, dreams don't sleep.
So anchor your will, like roots in the ground,
In the rhythm of purpose, let courage abound.

Let not the noise of the world distract,
Keep your heart's compass, its true abstract.
With clarity woven in the fabric of fate,
You're not just a dreamer; you're a piece of the great.

So rise with the sun, and seize the day,
Carry your vision, don't drift away.
For the stars above, in their vast array,
Whisper to us softly, "Stay on target, stay."

With each step forward, feel the pulse,
The beat of your passion, the truth that repulses,
Fear and the doubt, from shadows be free,
For in staying on target, you'll find who you're meant to be.

In whispered winds where dreams take flight,
And stars weave tales in the cloaks of night,
There lies a quest, both gentle and bold,
To please the world, a treasure to hold.

Oh, the laughter of children--a chorus divine,
As they chase the sun and in innocence shine,
With heartbeats that echo on pathways of grace,
They paint vibrant murals in the softest embrace.

A garden of souls, where compassion blooms,
In the spaces between us, where silence looms,
We gather the stories, the scars we conceal,
For each heart that breaks bears a beauty surreal.

To please the world is to dance in the rain,
To find joy in the struggle, to honor the pain,
To weave threads of kindness in fabrics of time,
To lift up the fallen, to seek out the rhyme.

We share in our burdens, we bask in our light,
United as shadows entwined in the night,
For every small kindness, a ripple will rise,
An ocean of empathy under boundless skies.

So let us be dreamers, with courage and might,
Creating a canvas, in colors so bright,
In the symphony's heart, may our melodies blend,
A song for the world, where love knows no end.

For to please the world is to truly belong,
To nurture the weak and celebrate strong,
In the mirror of kindness, may we always see,
That to please the world is to be truly free.

In the heart of a town called Chico,
Where the river winds like a silver thread,
Sunlight dances on leaves in a gentle glow,
Whispers of nature, where stories are fed.

The sycamores stretch their arms to the sky,
Holding secrets of seasons, the laughter of years,
With every breeze, the past rushes by,
A tapestry woven from dreams and from tears.

The farmers' fields, golden like dawn,
Bathe in the warmth of a tireless sun,
From orchards of fruit that tilt with the bough,
Harvesting hope when the day's work is done.

In the vibrant streets where the people reside,
Cultures converge, and connections unfold,
Each corner, a canvas, a heartbeat, a pride,
In the tales that the locals so lovingly told.

By Bidwell Park, with paths carved in green,
Where laughter erupts and the children explore,
The simplicity, beauty, in moments serene,
Life in its fullness, forever we adore.

As the twilight embers paint skies into dusk,
The stars whisper softly, as if they can see,
A world in motion, with heartbeats and trust,
In Chico, together, we weave harmony.

So here's to the spirit, the love, and the grace,
To a place where community breathes and flows,
In the heartbeat of Chico, we find our embrace,
A world intertwined, where compassion only grows.

In twilight's soft embrace we met,
Where shadows dance, and whispers fret,
A serendipity, delicate bloom,
In the quiet of dusk, where dreams find room.

Eyes like galaxies, mysteries unfurled,
A moment suspended, a heartbeat swirled,
Time held its breath, the world turned dim,
In the silence between us, the universe brimmed.

Words untamed lingered, golden, unspoken,
In the briefest of pauses, our hearts wide open,
Like rivers converging, the spark of the new,
A tapestry woven of me and of you.

You brushed past my spirit, a phantom caress,
Filling the chasms, erasing the stress,
Each glance forged a language, a rhythm, a rhyme,
As if fate penned our story before there was time.

Beneath the vast heavens, the stars bore witness,
To a dance of two souls in the grip of their fitness,
Each word exchanged, a fragile thread spun,
In the tapestry woven, we became one.

But beyond the encounter, life pulls and it tears,
The echoes of laughter face shadows and snares,
Yet in the fabric of memory, a warmth ever bright,
Your presence, though fleeting, will linger in light.

So here's to the moments, rare treasures we claim,
To encounters that whisper, igniting the flame,
For though paths may diverge, and bodies may part,
The essence of meeting forever will chart.

In the neon glow where fortunes dance,
Beneath the glitter of a reckless chance,
There roams a creature, sleek and sly,
With dreams as vast as the midnight sky.

He prowls the canyons of greed and gold,
Where whispers of wealth grow brazenly bold,
Each heartbeat echoes a siren's song,
In the jungle of numbers, where the bold belong.

A master of hustle, a king of the game,
He wears ambition like a cloak of flame,
With laughter that ripples through walls of glass,
In a world where dreams are bought in a flash.

But shadows lurk in the glint of the coin,
As innocence dulled and ethics are torn,
For beneath the howl of the wolf in delight,
Are shadows of lives lost to the night.

The high-flying parties, the glittered excess,
Mask whispers of sorrow, of dreams in distress,
As the dollar signs dance, hearts beat in haste,
Pushed by the rush of a reckless embrace.

Oh, beast of the markets, sharp-toothed, unbound,
What price do you pay for the throne you have found?
The laughter grows hollow, as echoes unwind,
In pursuit of the beast, what treasures we blind.

For wealth is but fleeting, a flicker, a flash,
Yet the scars of the chase? They linger and clash,
In the silence that follows the fervor of heat,
Lies a truth that the wolf will never defeat.

So howl if you must, let your spirit take flight,
But remember the cost of the revelry's night,
In the bright-shining world of ambition and might,
Not all that is golden can survive the light.

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.

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.

In the hush of twilight's gentle sigh,

Where shadows linger, and dreams dare to fly,

Whispers of valor weave through the air,

Tales of the unyielding, cloaked in despair.

Beneath the stars, in the depths of night,

Heroes awaken, igniting the fight.

With every heartbeat etched bold on the skin,

They carry the burdens where hope has been thin.

Through valleys of sorrow, where anguish has roamed,

In the face of the tempest, their spirits have combed,

They rise like the dawn, fierce and unbroken,

Voices that tremble with words left unspoken.

From rocky encampments where spirits may stray,

To cities adorned with memories frayed,

Each echo tells stories of courage and grace,

Of hands that have lifted the fallen from grace.

In the flicker of flame, their shadows appear,

Guardians of spirit, the brave and the dear.

Every struggle a testament carved into time,

Their legacy hums, a resounding rhyme.

For in the heart of the storm, when the world seems to fade,

The unyielding stand firm, unbowed and displayed.

They write with their actions, in blood, sweat, and tears,

Crafting a saga that conquers our fears.

So listen, dear soul, to the echoes that call,

In unity's strength, let us rise and not fall.

For the tales of the steadfast, in whispers or shouts,

Remind us of courage, of what life's about.

Let valor's embrace be our guiding light,

As we march through the shadows, unyielding, in sight.

For the echoes of valor, forever will soar,

A tapestry woven where spirits restore.

In the quiet corners of a fleeting day,

Where shadows whisper secrets, and light turns gray,

There lies a heart, stitched with threads of dreams,

Yet tangled in silence, unraveling seams.

I wander through moments, where echoes swell,

In the bright bustling world, I feel like a shell--

A vessel of longing, adrift on the tide,

Yet beneath the still waters, fierce currents abide.

Oh, loneliness wraps like a shroud in the night,

Yet carries a spark of resilience, a light;

For I sit with my thoughts like old friends in a room,

And craft them to words that defy the gloom.

With ink in my veins, I bleed truths undone,

Each line a companion, my battles begun;

Though solitude hovers like mist in the air,

I etch out my journey, my dreams laid bare.

In the garden of struggle, I nurture the flame,

For loneliness whispers, but I won't feel shame;

I'll rise with a purpose, through doubt and disdain,

Each heartbeat a promise--I'll dance through the pain.

So I gather the pieces, both broken and whole,

And whisper to the dark, "You won't steal my soul."

For I get lonely too, yes, I wear that badge tight,

But I still put in work, carving pathways of light.

With every new stanza, I build and I break,

For the gift of creation, it's mine to awake;

In the symphony of silence, my heart finds its song,

I embrace all its shadows, and know I belong.

So here's to the lonely, the weary, the bold,

Who weave their own stories, each thread turned to gold;

We rise through the solitude, crafting our worth,

For though I get lonely, I'll still put in work.

In the heart where whispers weave through emerald leaves,

A towering figure reigns, where the wild heart believes.

With branches like arms that cradle the skies,

The King of the Forest, where silence replies.

His roots run deep in the earth's ancient womb,

A tapestry woven with secrets and bloom.

Beneath the moon's silver, he stands ever tall,

Guardian of shadows, protector of all.

The birds sing his praises, a chorus so sweet,

While rustling leaves dance to the rhythm of feet.

The deer tiptoe softly, in reverent grace,

In the kingdom of green, they each find their place.

Storms may come raging, with thunderous roar,

Yet he stands unwavering, a sentinel sure.

For ages he's witnessed the seasons unfold,

Through summers and winters, through stories retold.

Yet in his great stature, a wisdom imbues,

That life's fleeting moments are what we must choose.

The laughter of children, the scent of the rains,

All weave in his essence, where memory reigns.

So gather around him, dear souls longing free,

For the King of the Forest, he cradles the plea.

In his shade, find solace, in his roots, find your home,

In the heart of the wild, may you never roam alone.

And when you hear whispers, like secrets unfurled,

Know the spirit of nature has gifts for the world.

For the King of the Forest, in stillness, decrees,

That love is the essence in every soft breeze.