you are my heave
my own thought
my own
absolue....
                  my basic...
in-absolute
worth of a punching bag.

You wanted
to love me
like I have
never been
   loved
   before...
with your
hands, you
unwrapped
my heart
and with
your eyes
you undressed
    my soul
      and
   I found
    myself
the moment
you found me
again and I
was petrified
      that if
    you stop
seeing different
   and loving
    in me then
I'll stop seeing it
       too.
                                                            ­                        Jon York   2019

There was a time,
We were together.

There was a time,
We wandered,
Through the silent parks,
Upon the green grass,
Below the willow trees.

Once I knew not,
How strange it could get,
When you’re not there.

It’s come.
It’s come.

The time queer,
The place unknown,
And I’m not who I was.
Lost in a reverie.

Of all the art in the world
Nothing compared to you
I sold my soul looking for the paints you used
Yet in the end it was just as well
I was nothing but charcoal whereas you were pastel

seed:the playwrite's thought,
director prepared the field;
actor's sowing act!

Greatness is born
At the birth of a new child
Domiciling on his/her inside
Waiting to be revealed to the world outside

As a light bursting out of darkness
Solution to the cries of many

Like Rome, greatness wouldn't appear in a day
Brick by brick, it must be laid
Hardwork, discipline, commitment, faith
Originality, perseverance, sacrifices
The recipes to be great