Timed Achievement  

A goal timed with care,  
each step woven with purpose,  
the end line in sight.  

Peaceful Resolve  

Clear conscience, like light,  
guides calmly toward your aim,  
strong and sure of self.  

Fading in Shadows  

Misery awaits,  
for those pleasing all but self  
dreams lost in shadow.  

Bound by Purpose  

A man bound within,  
purpose wrapped tight in silence,  
seeking a new path.  

Ignition of Dreams  

Mediocre sparks,  
enthusiasm fans new flames  
ideas come alive.  

Roots of Achievement  

Strong roots lie at home,  
a foundation built on love—  
from here, dreams take flight.  

Climb to Victory  

Victory’s high crest,  
calls to those who dare to climb  
each summit embraced.  

Lift Each Other  

Accept who they are,  
raise others to reach their heights  
in strength, we achieve.  

Choices that Ripple  

Choose with all your heart,  
each act ripples in the world  
mountains shift through will.  

Steps to Achievement  

Humble steps build dreams,  
the first foundations of strength  
seeds planted grow high.  

Reaching for Stars  

Reach as far as stars,  
though the moon may slip away  
a light still greets you.  

Enduring Wisdom  

Thinkers mocked first,  
rise where light and truth endure  
wisdom stands honored.  

Beyond the Fear  

Goals lie past your fears,  
just beyond that line of doubt  
cross to find the light.  

Choosing the Path  

Past leaves its own mark,  
yet future calls with clear hands  
each step clears the way.  

Harvest of Effort  

Kindness sown with care,  
patience nurtures every bloom  
harvest waits in time.  

Giving and Letting Go  

Give, then let it go,  
accept what life brings in turn  
gifts of grace remain.  

Effort Rewarded  

Dreamers wait for chance,  
but the wise set forth to act  
fate favors the bold.  

Bright Anticipation  

Expectation’s light,  
steady heart and thought aligned  
mark the mind of strength.  

Listening to Truth  

Reason wears anger,  
yet seldom serves purpose well  
be calm, listen deep.  

Genius Within  

In each of us lies,  
a gift that lifts the world high  
secret genius.  

Strength and Balance  

Gentle with all things,  
yet firm, holding steady ground  
soft strength finds its place.

Oh, children, come gather, and listen in close,
To a tale of behaviors that bother the most!  
A lesson in kindness, as quick as a tick:
This little mantra, don’t be a ****.      
      
Imagine young Larry, quite rude in his ways,
Who butted in line at the fairgrounds for days.
He’d push, he’d shove, with a grin so wide,
Till they tossed his *** right out for his rude little pride!      
      
Then there’s Miss Claire, who’s quite the chatter,
But always she talks as if no one else matters.
She’ll cut in mid-sentence, she’ll hijack the floor,
Till friends disappear, right out the back door!  
  
And look! There’s sly Benny, so slick and so witty,
With backhanded compliments, oh so pretty
To say, “You look nice… today, at least!”      
He thinks it’s a joke, but he’s just a rude little beast.

Now meet Mr. Fred, the ultimate champ,
Who’d win at all costs, like a cold-hearted lamp!
He’d gloat if he won, if he lost, he would pout
Until everyone’s cheers turned to, “Hey, Fred, get the hell out!”

And don’t get me started on poor Mr. Lee,
Who talks on his cellphone for all to see!
The bus hears his life, the ups and the downs,
And wonders aloud, “Does he think we’re all clowns?”      
      
Or ghosty Miss May, who’ll vanish and dart,
Till she needs a big favor then, oh! She’ll take heart!
But friends aren’t just there for a quick disappear,
Be there when it’s good, be there when it’s drear!      
      
Yes, kindness is golden, but some never see,
Like Finn who one-ups, never lets things be.   “You climbed that mountain? I climbed it twice!”
Oh, dear, someone save us from one-up advice!

And next, meet young Theo, who leaves a big mess,
In every shared space, with no thought to confess.
A spilled drink, a wrapper, some crumbs from his treat
This ******* assumes that the fairies will clean up his feet!

Then there’s dear Patsy, who skips every “thanks”
Who treats help from others like limitless banks.
The waiter, the driver, her parents, her friends,
She takes and she takes, till the friendship just ends.

Now Oliver’s always the first to take credit,
Though others around him are ones who have led it!
He swoops in and beams, and says, “Yes,
that was me!”
While others just sigh, as they stand silently.

Or grumpy Miss Jan, who’ll twist a small slight,
Into a feud that could last her for life!
Instead of forgiving or letting it go,  
She’ll hang on like a dog with a bone, oh no that's just so!

And finally, Sammy, who’s loud and who’s brash,
Who loves to start fights and go out and splash.
A “keyboard warrior” with no heart in sight
Stirring up trouble on screens late at night.      

So remember, dear children, it’s really quite slick,
To act with some kindness, DONT BE A ****.
For friends are like flowers; they don’t grow on stone  
Water them kindly, don’t live life alone!

Before you sleep my beautiful one,
Don't let sleep be jealous of your beauty,
Let us walk hand in hand down to the ocean,
Let the moonlight guide our way to the shore.

Let passion be a journey into love's depth,
As we walk, let night air consume us,
As the heavens spark with soft, gentle light.
Let the stars bathe us in their bright aura.

I want to hear the silence of each footprint
As we walk across the golden sand.
Your breath is of sweet delight.
Oh my love, hold my hand tight;
Never let it go as we walk in the shadow of the moon.

You spark and ignite every inch of my desire!
Let's stop for a minute and watch the ocean.
The time is upon us, let us absorb the moment.

The stars in the sky call your name softly,
And the sands dance on your perfect feet.
What stillness in the enormous heavens,
And what whispers of harmony we share.

In this timeless moment, I pull you close,
Your soft locks of hair through my hand,
Never have I felt such fleeting thrills!
Every desire crying loudly in silent echoes.

The night feels more lovely than the day;
It writes in a forbidden language of its own,
Eternal words through silent speech
The infinite name of Love!

You are my only lover, my fire burns for you!
You are my full and every desire!
Let us become one and hold each other.
The nights are dark, but our hour is everlasting!

A Love Anthologies

I. Invocation

Beauty, abyssal in your seraphic trance—
flames licking stars that don’t dare look back,
I ache in your gaze, soft as a lie,
the twilight’s kiss, trembling on your lips.
How could we, so fragile, not fall—
plummeting into you, undone by desire?

Your fragrance is a hymn, a psalm sung
to gods that don’t care about the rain.
Kisses that bind and break,
potions meant for the meek,
to erase the gods—burn them clean.
What fate did you draw from the stars,
casting ruin and ecstasy, reckless in your design?

Beneath your steps lie broken hearts,
bones burned, wings shredded by your flames.
Still they chant, soaked in delirium—
“O radiant doom! You are both heaven and hell!”

II. The Meeting of Souls

How do we hide from this collision?
You, a bowstring, pulling me tight and arrow in the heart,
a song I never wanted, but had to hear, that plays on repeat
Who bent us into this? This clay formed into a beautiful sculpt
Some cruel composer,
writing melodies and songs of longing we never asked for, with words we don't know.

We break, we burn, we ignite,
twin sparks lighting up the darkness.
Your laughter rips through my silence—
a knife, an embrace, a prayer.
And in your touch, I find everything
I thought I could not be,
yet was always meant to become.

III. The Autumn Sky

You are the autumn sky—
rose-lit and falling apart at the edges.
Joy? Grief? Who knows where one ends,
when the other swallows it whole.

Sadness floods me, a tide
that erodes my bones,
marking everything I loved as lost.
Your fingers trace the scars,
the ruins wolves left behind,
as if nothing ever mattered.

And still, you burn me.
A blaze that consumes,
but in the ashes, I find you,
once again.
I am yours—
in my destruction, in my surrender.

IV. The Weight of the World

Love is the weight we carry,
a gravity we cannot escape.
Through empty nights,
under the burn of distant stars,
we wear it like a crown,
heavy but made to stay.

It lives in the quiet of sleep,
and in the screams of waking life.
Love is what survives—
both a wound and its cure.
Through agony, it purifies,
and leaves us ragged,
but whole.

Without it—what is there?
Just hollow shells and bitter breaths,
choking on the ache,
and even in forsaking,
it refines.

V. A Memory Eternal

Do you remember me?
Your breath, the very air I inhaled—
the fire that surged in my veins?
Those nights when stars bled silver,
and the world, drowned in your smile,
became irrelevant?

Even now, with shadows creeping—
your ghost clings to me,
a hollow, a sickness.
Can love, now gone,
be reborn from the abyss we’ve made?

As suns rise from drowning seas,
so does your memory—
sharp, burning, and infinite.

VI. The Reckoning

Time crawls, hissing, without mercy.
And yet here I stand—naked, raw,
your touch branding me like a scar.
Your eyes, cold and unyielding,
mark my worth—
and I burn in your judgment.

In this decay, I find something untouched—
an ember, still breathing,
defiant against the abyss.
O Beauty, destroy me again.
Thread me with your broken needle,
and tear me apart once more—

For in this ruin,
your song never ends—
a hymn of fire,
always yearning,
always burning,
until nothing is left but ash and desire.

Beneath the pale and flickering light,
A soul is lost in endless night.
No voice to greet, no hand to hold,
A heart grows weary, dark, and cold.

The walls are close, the air is thin,
And loneliness both without and within.
The echoes of the mind take shape,
A silent torment, no escape.

The hours stretch like shadows long,
A whisper turns to siren song.
The ticking clock becomes a drum,
Each beat a step, yet nowhere to run.

Memories fade, their colors drained,
Identity is slowly strained.
Who am I here, in this small box,
A ghost among these endless locks?

The silence roars, a deafening scream,
Reality blurs into a dream.
Faces emerge, then fade away,
Phantom voices beg to stay.

Paranoia grips the mind,
Truth and lies intertwined, combined.
The walls, they watch, they seem alive,
The will to fight cannot survive.

Fingers trace the marks of stone,
Carved by thought of left alone.
Each line a story, untold pain,
A cycle bound to self-contained chains.

The self begins to turn on itself,
No books, a mirrors, just past on the shelf.
Time dissolves in the airless haze,
Each moment repeats, a maddening maze.

The mind revolts, it starts to spin,
A kaleidoscope of chaos within.
Faces of loved ones, moments of joy,
Tear at the heart they now destroy.

Hallucinations become a friend,
An escape from this unending end.
Yet even they turn cruel and cold,
As madness takes its firmest hold.

Outside, the world remains unaware,
Of minds confined to despair.
The scars, though hidden, run so deep,
Wounds that time can rarely keep.

For those who leave these thoughts of gray,
The sunlight blinds; they cannot stay.
Society feels foreign, strange,
A fractured soul, deranged, estranged.

It's hard to speak of this silent plight,
The broken hearts lost to the night.
For solitude, in the mind is a cruel excess,
Is not progress, but hopelessness.

A world that turns its back on pain,
Breeds ghosts in people, humanity slain.
And in their cries, a truth unfolds:
A lonely mind destroys the soul.

To my friend Withers ..

The world is a canvas, vast and wide,
And we, like broken crayons, are tossed aside.
With edges cracked, our colours fade,
Yet still, we mark the paths we've made.

Once, we were untouched by sorrow,
Box of crayons, world of endless tomorrows,
Our colours danced across the sky,
Dreams so bright they seemed to fly.
But cruel hands cracked our wax,
Snapping edges, dulling tracks.
Still, we clung to what remained,
Even as our pieces scattered, stained.

Each mark etched deep within our soul,
Bruises in shades of red, blue purple and grey, Many childhoods torn, love tangled in harms,
Safety lost to shadows, no false alarms.
“You’re nothing,” they whispered, sharp,
Their words like glass, cutting apart.
Yet through their scorn, we held our ground,
Knowing, deep down, what we had found:
Even broken crayons still colour fine,
Especially when you dont colour between the lines.

The hands meant to guard our grace,
Turned storms, tearing the open space.
Fingers that should’ve calmed our cries,
Stole the innocence from our eyes.
In silence, we learned to fear,
Spaces once meant for trust grew clear.
Darkness, our companion, shame by our side,
Yet in that stillness, we found our guide
A voice whispered softly in the night:
"You are more than this; our colour bright"

The world outside gave no relief,
Laughter like razors, cutting belief.
What healed on the body, scarred deep inside,
Roots of pain spread wide, untried.
Yet even as tears stained the night,
As broken crayons we reached for flight,
A rebellion small, against the dark,
A flicker of hope, a single spark.

For every blow, we painted lines,
For every lie, we drew new signs,
Our colours, though faint, refused to flee,
Jagged edges, yet they still be.
In empty spaces, we painted light,
Turning brokenness into our new fight.

The scars we carry, a map of survival,
Lines etched with strength, a truth so vital.
We climbed walls meant to confine,
Fought shadows that sought to define.
Though cracks in our spirit will never heal,
They catch the light, they make us real.
For every shattered piece of us,
Reflects our power without a fuss.

We've learned that broken does not mean lost,
Even with jagged edges, we pay the cost.
We try bring beauty to the world with art,
For each stroke we leave, a rebirth, a start.
Even when others see only fragments wide,
We know the truth, we carry it inside:
That broken crayons still colour fine
It's not important to stay in lines.

So we gather the pieces scattered far,
Press them together beneath a star.
We may never be whole, but we are enough,
With trembling hands, we paint through rough.
Every jagged mark we leave behind,
Colours the world with light refined.
In brokenness, there’s a lesson to remind,
A quiet grace, our souls intertwined.

To those forgotten, who bear unseen scars,
You are more than the pain that mars.
More than the shadows that haunt your night,
You are a masterpiece, your spirit alight.
And though the world may not understand,
Never forget the power in your hand:
Broken crayons can still bring colour,
To a world grey bland.

A splash of blue, a streak of red,
Shards of yellow where dreams once bled.
Each piece a story, sharp and torn,
A patchwork of hopes both lost and worn,
The box is full, but we don’t fit,
Pressed together, we don’t quite sit.
Yet in the mess, the scattered hues,
There’s a beauty found in the broken blues.

For every line that fades away,
A brighter shade will find its way.
The broken crayon’s tale is told,
In strokes of courage, fierce and bold,
Not all is lost when edges break,
For even shards can start to shake.
In fractured light, the colours rise,
And broken crayons paint the skies

So here is a gentle fact that broken crayons can still bring colours back ..

May these words hold you my dear friend ....

Deep in the darkest pits, the starving are vanishing. You toss them a crumb, then stand back and watch them rot.

You, all-powerful and unseen, beam your eternal cruelty over this grand, twisted scheme.

You let the young die, and those who still dare to taste life’s fleeting joys, But you won’t let the ones begging for an end just slip away.

Countless who now rot in the earth, once swore blind allegiance to you, died happily convinced they'd found salvation.

You keep the poor shackled, year after year, their desires more tempting than your so-called paradise. Too bad they never saw the light, but they died smiling, rotting all the same.

Many of us mock you, say you don’t exist and maybe that’s the best thing to believe. But then again, how could something not be, if it can play such a sickening trick?

If everything lives through you and can’t even perish without your say-so—tell me, what difference does it make if you don't exist at all?