June 28th, 2023

Good Morning, wednesday is hump day

​In the golden realm of dawn’s embrace,
Wednesday emerges with gentle grace.
A beacon between midweek’s weary sighs,
It stands as a bridge with hopeful skies.


Good morning, Wednesday, hump day they say,
A midpoint where burdens find their way.
But let us not view it with weary eyes,
For in this day, potential quietly lies.


Upon this day, let us find the strength,
To conquer hurdles, go to any length.
For Wednesday's hump, a stepping stone,
A chance to prove that we have grown.


Embrace the moment, with heart unbowed,
Let joy and passion be fiercely plowed.
For in this day, dreams can be pursued,
And life’s sweet mysteries can be imbued.


So let us welcome dawn's sweet rebirth,
On this hump day, our spirits unearth.
With every breath, let hope and light bloom,
As Wednesday whispers, "cast away all gloom."


Good morning, Wednesday, hump day we name,
Let's dance through challenges without shame.
For as you rise, so too, we shall ascend,
In this day, our resilience we will extend.

Good Morning, exhausted, and feel drugged
BY: Aiden Bean Kirchner

In the realm of dawning light, where dreams disperse,
A weary soul awakens, feeling none the worse.
With heavy eyelids and a mind that's fogged,
Good Morning, exhausted, and feel drugged.
The night held secrets, whispers soft and low,
As slumber's grasp on sanity did bestow.
But with the break of dawn, reality returns,
Dragging weary limbs 'neath the weight it adjourns.
Oh, endless night, wrapped in a restless embrace,
A realm that entices with visions, whispered in space.
And oh, relentless morn, demanding an entrance,
With sunbeams that pierce, leaving little chance
To revel in the silence of a peaceful rest,
As responsibilities stir, leaving one pressed.
The somber dance begins, a symphony askew,
Good Morning, exhausted, how do you do?
Each step feels like a battle, a herculean chore,
Yet the world awaits outside the bedroom door.
The weight of weariness hangs upon your frame,
But the morning persists, and life calls your name.
Oh, how sweet it is, to surrender to the night,
To let dreams carry us, in slumber's gentle flight.
But we rise, we persist, with burdens to bear,
For it is through weariness, that strength we share.
So, Good Morning, exhausted, and feel drugged,
Embrace the weariness, like a cloak that's snug.
For in these weary moments, we find our solace,
And in the struggle, life's truest gifts will promise.

GOOD EVENING

My girlfriend, she is so beautiful

In the realm of boundless beauty, where words fail,
There lies a vision that surpasses all tales,
A poet's lexicon, no verse can describe,
My love, my muse, with grace that can't be denied.

Her eyes, twin diamonds, radiant and bright,
Reflecting galaxies, igniting the night,
They carry the stories of a thousand skies,
A symphony of stardust, my heart's paradise.

Her smile, a sunbeam in the darkest storm,
Melting walls around me, keeping me warm,
Its gentle curve, a potion to heal,
A resplendent masterpiece, so surreal.

Her voice, a melody that serenades my soul,
A dulcet whisper that makes me whole,
With every word, my heart takes flight,
Lost in the enchantment, of love's pure delight.

Her touch, an ethereal caress on my skin,
A gentle symphony, awakening within,
Every brush, a sonnet whispered in silence,
Igniting passions, burning with brilliance.

Her beauty, a tapestry woven with grace,
A masterpiece of nature's whimsical embrace,
Each brushstroke forms a portrait divine,
A living poetry, forever entwined.

My muse, my enchantress, a vision rare,
Beyond the realms where words may dare,
In you, I find solace, a world unexplored,
My beautiful girlfriend, forever adored.

In the evening my demons come out to play
By: Aiden Kirchner Poetry

In the evening's embrace, my demons appear,
Emerging from shadows, their presence so clear.
With whispered voices, they dance in the night,
Unveiling their darkness, yielding no respite.

They paint the canvas of my troubled mind,
Stirring secrets kept hidden, impossible to find.
Their spirits entangle, like a web in my soul,
A haunting symphony, beyond my control.

Voices clamor, echoes resound,
As memories unravel, chaos profound.
They play their games, in the depths of my heart,
With every flickering flame, they tear me apart.

They taunt and they prod, these relentless foes,
Feasting on fears, like a venom that flows.
Yet in their torment, a strange seduction I find,
A surreal solace, that intertwines.

For within the darkness, a glimmer appears,
A flicker of truth, amidst the tears.
Through battles fought inward, I'm forced to see,
The strength in my demons, the depths they seek.

In the evening's surrender, my demons take flight,
And I'm left with lessons, learned in the night.
For though they're unsettling, these creatures of strife,
They shape my existence, they sculpt my life.

So, I'll welcome my demons, when twilight does fall,
Embracing their presence, both mighty and small.
For in their haunting songs and unsettling play,
I discover the depths of my being, in twilight's sway.

Sign of the times, heart is lonely
BY: AIDEN KIRCHNER POETRY

In the depths of a world disconnected,
Where signs of the times are oft neglected,
One heart beats in a melody of sorrow,
Lonely, yearning for a brighter tomorrow.

Silent echoes fill the vacant streets,
Whispers of dreams tangled in defeat,
Lost in solitude's chilling embrace,
A longing heart seeks solace and grace.

Through the haze of darkness, hope prevails,
A flickering flame, it never fails,
In every whisper of the wind we hear,
A symphony of longing, pure and sincere.

The sign of the times may be one of despair,
But within the heart, love's flame is rare,
For in solitude, the seed of strength does grow,
Nourishing the soul as the heart learns to glow.

Oh, lonely heart, fear not the unknown,
For in each moment, a universe is sown,
Seek the solace in the depths of your being,
And let the sign of the times become freeing.

Let the melody of your heart unfold,
A symphony of hope, untamed and bold,
Together we shall rise, hand in hand,
Conquering the darkness that veils the land.

So, in the midst of this chaotic rhyme,
Believe that love can heal and transmute time,
For within the lonely heart's tender embrace,
A sign of the times, a sacred space.

Sick of trying, forget love
BY: AIDEN KIRCHNER POETRY

In the depths of weary hearts,
Where hope and passion once did start,
There lies a soul, tired and worn,
Aching for love, now forlorn.

Sick of trying, the spirit cries,
With tear-streaked cheeks and heavy sighs,
Once believed in love's sweet embrace,
Now longing for its cold embrace.


Oh, forgotten dreams, where have you gone?
Lost in a world misled and wrong,
The heart, once open, now shut tight,
Shielding itself from love's cruel fight.

Yet in this darkness, a glimmer shines,
A flicker of hope that still aligns,
For in surrender's tender release,
A newfound strength finds inner peace.

Forget the love that caused such pain,
Breathe in the freedom, break the chains,
For in self-love, a phoenix rises,
Stronger, wiser, a soul that surprises.

May your spirit find solace's shore,
Where love unfolds as never before,
Release the burdens, let them go,
Embrace the healing that time does bestow.

Sick of trying? Let love forget,
In self-discovery, find your reset,
For within you, an infinite grace,
A love that no one can ever erase.