Poems by Jordan A. Leturgez

Beneath the Roman sun, where sand meets blood,

Brave souls arise, in the echo of the thud.

Gladiators, forged in fire and in fate,

Their hearts beat fierce, their destinies await.

In armor glinting, they stand, resolved,

An ancient pact; their fates entwined, evolved.

With each fierce clash, the crowd's roar ignites,

A symphony of valor, of daring fights.

They dance with death, in a waltz sublime,

Each strike a story, a heartbeat in time.

Fingers wrapped 'round swords, bright with hope and pain,

They carve their legacies in the bloodied grain.

Faces marked by struggle, the lines of despair,

Tell tales of triumph, of love laid bare.

For in that circle, where glory meets the grind,

They fight not just for the crowd, but for what's left behind.

A brother's shout, a lover's name,

Each breath they take, ignites the flame.

For every fallen hero, a ghostly cheer,

Resonates with the dreams of the ones held dear.

Oh, magnificent warriors of the sunlight's grace,

In your savage artistry, we find our place.

You rise from the ashes, like phoenixes of old,

Our hearts entwined in the stories you've told.

When evening falls, and the cheers subside,

The echoes remain, and the spirits abide.

In the legacy of legends, where honor may fade,

The poetry of gladiators is forever portrayed.

In the town of Springfield, mischief stirs,
Where Bart Simpson's pranks, his legacy reoccurs.
With a twinkle in his eye, and mischief in his tone,
He dials the phone, in his realm, he's never alone.

"Is Mr. I.P. Freely present?" he asks with a giggle,
His voice mischievous, his spirit never too little.
A master of disguise, his pranks unfold,
Leaving everyone in laughter, the truth untold.

From "Seymour Butz" to "Mike Rotch",
Bart's creativity knows no blotch.
With each call, a new character born,
In the world of his making, the rules are torn.

His laughter echoes through the night,
A prankster's delight, a mischievous sight.
In every call, a tale to tell,
Bart Simpson's pranks, a comedic spell.

So raise a toast to this mischievous lad,
Whose antics make us smile, never sad.
In Springfield's world, he reigns supreme,
Bart Simpson's prank calls, a humorous dream.

In shadows deep, beneath the moon's pale glow,

A teenage heart beats with a primal flow,

Through windswept nights and forests wild and free,

A transformation stirs within, a mystery.

The beast within begins to rise and roar,

A teenage werewolf, craving something more,

With hungry eyes and feral instincts keen,

A world of darkness, waiting to be seen.

The moonlight dances on his fur, alight,

A teenage werewolf howls into the night,

In wilderness untamed, he finds his place,

A creature bound by neither time nor space.

Beneath the skin, a battle rages on,

A teenage soul, a beast to be upon,

Yet in this clash of selves, a truth is found,

A teenage werewolf, wild and unbound.

So let the night embrace his savage grace,

A teenage werewolf running in the chase,

For in his howl, a soul that longs to be,

Wild and fierce, forever wild and free.

In the city streets where silence weeps,

There roam the gents without a cent,

Their weary eyes hold tales untold,

In their hearts, a resilient lament.

Their shoes worn thin, their pockets bare,

Yet dignity stands tall and true,

Amidst the chaos and despair,

A quiet strength shines through.

They navigate a world unkind,

Yet dignity they still uphold,

In every step, a silent prayer,

In every breath, a story yet untold.

For in their faces, you may perceive,

A beauty that transcends the pain,

A spirit that refuses to grieve,

A hope that dares to remain.

So let us see beyond the lack,

And recognize the wealth within,

For in these gents without a cent,

Resides a treasure, pure and keen.

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.

Imagine how crazy life can have no ending
Like a relationship that you can't say that it's pending
Every little step you take
It is based on what future you want it to make
Determination is key to not only being yourself
But it also makes you feel like you have found yourself
Loving life like crazy is always a good thing
That is why singers love to sing
Understand that even the struggles are a plus
It takes heart to build on the must
So if you stop pretending
And the Crazy Life Has No Ending

In the quiet of the dawn's soft light,

A new day begins, both dark and bright,

As a parent, with babe in arms,

Balancing work and sweet baby charms.

In a world of screens and endless tasks,

In the midst of toys and baby masks,

The dance of parenthood and career,

A delicate balance, both far and near.

From emails typed with one hand free,

To soothing cries on bended knee,

A new mom or dad, in this home domain,

Navigating a path both joyous and plain.

The sounds of typing mix with lullabies,

As work and love become allies,

In this space of chaos and calm,

A daily journey, a parental psalm.

So embrace the beauty in this dual role,

In the heart and in the soul,

For in the midst of chaos and love's dearth,

There's magic in the balance of work and birth.

In the heart of stillness, where whispers unfold,

A kingdom is woven from dreams spun in gold.

Where shadows find solace, the weary take rest,

A realm of compassion, where love is the guest.

Beneath the wide heavens, the stars brightly gleam,

Each twinkle a promise, each sigh is a dream.

Mountains bow low and the valleys arise,

In the kingdom of grace, where the humble are wise.

With rivers of mercy, ablaze with pure light,

The broken find healing, the lost seek the bright.

The laughter of children, like soft silver chimes,

Echoes through fields of the most sacred rhymes.

Here, justice is tender, and mercy is strong,

Where hearts beat in rhythm, a harmonious song.

The outcast embraced, the orphan held dear,

In the kingdom of God, all are welcomed near.

In gardens of hope, where each seed can take flight,

Faith blooms like the blossoms, eager for light.

The burdened find freedom; the captive, release,

In a tapestry woven, the threads weave in peace.

So let us be pilgrims, on pathways divine,

With love as our compass, in valleys we'll shine.

For the kingdom of God, it whispers to all,

A call to believe--come, answer the call.

We are all meant to become a part of God's Love
It doesn't matter how many times you have been pushed and shoved
God said he will never leave you
Which means praying for things is nothing new
Some may ask for money, some may ask for Success
But they all may not realize that they are already Blessed
Everything that you touch is a Blessing
It is like having more flavor to a salad with dressing
Everything that you feel is a Blessing
Being positive is what you should be best in
Everything that you love is a Blessing
Your love builds on other people's lessons
Your Success is depending upon hard work Yes
but it only takes one blessing to become a progress
Take one step at a time towards your success
but Every Success Starts with Being Blessed

In frost-kissed nights where cold abounds,

With icy winds that whisper sounds,

When winter's grip holds hearts so tight,

Let me unveil wise tips to save, just right.

First, insulate your humble abode,

Wrap it up in warmth, and thus it'll hold.

Unwanted drafts shall yield to warmth's delight,

And frigid cold will dim its chilling might.

Next, befriend the sun, that radiant knight,

He grants us warmth in wintertime's fight.

Keep curtains drawn, expose the warming beams,

Embrace his touch, as life in darkness teems.

With shivers close, pull on your woolen gear,

Adorned in layers, banish winter's jeer.

Protect your body from the biting freeze,

A coat of strength, a fortress to appease.

Now, let us turn to comforts we hold dear,

Hot cocoa's embrace, a winter's cheer.

Choose homemade delights over costly fare,

Sip slowly, savor warmth beyond compare.

And as we nestle by the fireside glow,

Embrace those moments, let mirth bestow.

Entwine with loved ones, under blankets share,

A heartfelt warmth that money can't ensnare.

In winter's realm, where icy grasp does creep,

Seek solace, find joy, in pockets deep.

Save not just pennies but those precious hours,

Spent with loved ones, amidst nature's powers.

For when the chill subsides, and spring awakens,

Memories and treasures are what remain unshaken.

Saving money is wise, but save not just for gold,

Save moments, love, and stories yet untold.

So as the cold takes hold, fear not the freeze,

Embrace its challenge, and savings will appease.

Create a haven where warmth and love unite,

And see the true riches winter can igni(t)e.