Bagging groceries has given me
A strange window into people's lives

I stuff their secrets into a paper sack
And I tell them to have a good day

But I'm not sure they do

Few people can be believed
The lips are packed with lies
Words fall as if manœuvred
To benefit selfishness’s world.

I carry the dust of deceitful
tongues, swollen, diseased
Where is cleanliness left?
‘The dog’s bowl at the door’.

Love Mary ***

Everyone wants to
                      be the sun,
         to brighten up someones
                 life, but why not
           be the moon to shine
                   on someones
                   darkest hour?

                 And if you are
        to love, love like the moon
                 loves. It doesn't
            steal  the night.  It  only
                 unveils the beauty
                     of the days

                  Love me like
           the moon intended, all
              the  way  through
                   the darkness.

                 The sun loves
            the  moon  so  much,
                 he dies every
          night to let her breathe.

             Never save things
          for special occasions.
                Being alive is
        the only special occasion
                       there is.
                                                            
                                                                                            Jon York   2019

most people see me as
a happy person because
i laugh easily,
i smile a lot,
i joke a lot.

but deep down
in my heart,
i am fragile,
i can get hurt easily,
but i choose to not
show it to the world.

instead of being sad,
i choose to laugh to cover it.
maybe you can call me
"the queen of the mask"

by this,
you can tell
that most of the time
when I'm laughing,
I'm not really laughing,
i was trying so hard to hide
my sadness.

I don't know If I’m Having a Feeling
I don't have any emotions anymore
Or I am dreaming, while I am awake?
Is my mind exploring my feelings?

While seeking happiness in this 18 degree weather?
Baking a melodrama cake,
Pounding away my headaches,
Clearing the path, making way for better
Eggs, butter, flour, sugar and raisins

Raising the bar, with the baking powder
Of transferring my feeling into logic,
As it blend into a smooth non stanza
Poetic form of puppy love, clinching

and all that rises, rise in due degree
And is in everything we see and do.