I kiss you, and so, therefore, my self.
I kiss my forehead when I kiss you,
And free the butterflies up
From a bottle of a dream, that is a poem
Of love, when I kiss you,
If and when I kiss you, and in the process
To let you kiss yourself,
From kissing me tender for so long, for so sweet,
From the upper and the lower lip, from the upper
To the lower chest of mine, then yours,
Just to propagate them
As the secret kisses on your thighs, perfumed,
And do what our mouth does to the summer fruits,
While I kiss you to surrendering
Of self, of glory,
Of pride.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

Each time you lower
The kisses of life,
You buoy all azure
That there is—
Frantic oceans,
Berries, roses,
Temperamental waters—
Ceaseless savages raptured
Into hissed fragile vapors
Loosing all memory
Of aquatic salt,
Of sad currents,
Of mischievous chlorine,
Looping all ancient time
Accumulated
Into unified forever.

Nothing is as majestic
As the great grand blue-ling
Looted of soul, soul, souls,
It willingly divides, other
Than this, than an epic budding
Of fated love.
There’s nothing as majestic
As we fearfully are.

The torrid torrent
Of quickening
You breathed for me
Has galloped as a white mare
In all lifetimes, salvaging
Our spirits altogether
From the fickle surfs
Of the seas.

Dear, we are puzzling
Archipelagos,
And you submerged us
To a deeper sky
     Of Love.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

True lions ruling their pride.*

© 2016 J.S.P.

You flirt with me, not my feelings.
My heart knows what it practice full well.
It deceives all including itself—
An ocean, a serpent, a sly moon.

You flirt with me, I think, and my body says so.
My hormones, bubbling to the brim.
I pull your waist and not your hand, your curved
Waist, and you should notice that.

My love does not go where the body goes,
It is spirit. And should you open yours
To me, we will know what it is
To be one, to be omitted to the known world.

If my hands camp over your body,
Know, that it is by our doing,
And it tears my being into pieces,
Exposing itself to a great misery—

Parts of it, in agony, in ecstasy,
Sleeping by the supple, and the subtlety,
Burning with the shadows, weeping
Bitterly over losing me.

But when I love, love, I use my soul,
The stars will attest to that.
If I lie, I lie with the world,
And if I should, it would be poetry,
It would be true.

So wait for me, for I love you.
And I am coming for you,
So wait for me.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

Each time we kiss...

Each time we kiss, and selves
Are not selves, and the
Pie is warm, and the
Shake is cold, and the
Toes are arched, and
Pain is love, the Earth
Suckles at the Universe.

Each time we kiss...

Each time we kiss, and the
Doors are partly closed, and the
Penguins mate, and the
Blankets unfold, and a
Star shoots star, and Time
Is waltz, the Earth
Suckles at the Universe.
Hard.

Perhaps, each time...
...we kiss.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

The grand turbulence, the fury
Of a flower's
     First opening.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

No bras this Friday, just scent,
Reviviscent, the eau de toilette,
Her *******, her dress, the pouring rain.

     My hands are...
                    ...cupped.
     No sunny day.
          No fire better.
     My touch, too, was a changing weather.

     So this is how I warm
          Her heart.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

I longed for love but never lacked,
Perhaps an ounce of you
     Way back when I was yours
Seemed sufficient for me to show
Such affection until now,
     Undiminished, and have endured,
A sign, a shoot, a sprout,
The rewarding cause or curse
     Of resiliency,

For we can never un-love,
     We just forget.

Seasons, and poems
     And poets passed, yet,
Those withered leaves might have
Outlived the weeds around, so I can say
For another day, another month,
Another year, and though I fear,
     Be it a lifetime, that I have loved,
And will always love
Until this heart
     Speak no more,

For it will have become dust,
Waiting for your breath...
     ...to have it carried.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

Cygnets...
...walking...
...on egg shells.*

© 2014 J.S.P.

Time forgets progression
Every time you move and dress,
And cover yourself with silk, satin, lace,
     With hooks and garters,
With garments and clothing
Starting from small, tight and light
To large and loose,
     And soft and cottony,
That I can almost feel everything
     In my mouth, my tongue, yet
You are all too smooth to me,
Elegant, sophisticated, a walking flame,
That there's almost nothing there to touch
All red, white, all pink, all bloom,
     No flower nor petal,
All root, all stem, all fruit,
All pollens and butterflies, and juice,
All juice, all round, all curved,
     All bare, all time.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

Kiss, kiss, kiss for me
A tender line, a border--all afternoon--
Straighter
Than the sword of the soul
To divide me, to awaken me,
Somewhere, between the rage
And the calm:

So that my thrusts steady,
Would hurt and agitate,
Bleed and satisfy, winning us
The ancient war.

Then, I am still for you,
For loving, for country
All deep evenings. Imagine
The stealth of the world in effect
As honey drips some place
Inside a hive. The cicadas-- intrigued.
A flower pollinating.

We will burn the known
Elements, even fire.
The shadows, the moon
And the stars will warm
Their hands together
Near the shaking flame.*

© 2014 J.S.P.

I have enveloped you with my dying hands
And everything that might bring you here
From some place in my dreams.

Death would be a cruel death
If I have none to hold, my love.
Truly, my heart still seeks for you:

You, my dearest,
My pain, my breath;
The song that carries me to a long lost echo;
The echo that appears to be my nightsong,
Must curse me:

To bring old painful truth
On lasting new memories,
To bind forgotten lips
On long-forgotten lips,
And to have you--
Though not having you-

Gifted to be as loving as angels,
Gifted to just roam the earth
Without a face,
Or flesh--

Taking the final form...
...of pure love.

© 2010 J.S.P.

They say,
The more you protect
     The more they covet.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

Every time you coast the ridges of my ribs,
With the moist of tongue or the fingertip,
Every time with your lips, technics, a precision,
And crows, and ravens, and dark lipstick,
     Everywhere. Every time,
     Your body desensitizes
          My all.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

Our love was
(has got to be)
Among the best, the immensest
And the most baffling
Of all the optional things.
We willed it
     To be like this.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

Beyond my I love you lies
An I love you too,
Or sad poetry.
I write what I cannot have
Or what I cannot keep.

I go from loving to losing you
And both. I go from pain to
Odd pain then to forgetting,
And beyond that-
Pain even. But hope
Is always there.

The sun sets, not for the moon
But for tomorrow; Love leaves
Not for pain, but for love.
Pain never leaves.
Love always comes back.
Love comes back better.
Pain disintegrates.

Beyond sad poetry
Is romantic poetry.
Beyond poetry is reality.
Beyond everything else,
Good and bad,
Is you.

And You are far better...
...than an I love you too.

© 2013 J.S.P.

Funny,
It is when we find love
That we start to search for it.

Funny,
Some say that love is blind
Yet, it always seems to find us.

Funny,
You’ve always been with me,
And it is only now that I’ve found you.

Seriously,
I have now found
True love.

© 2010 J.S.P.

Our love was a tragedy,
A bridge, a gap, a separation,
A masterpiece, somewhere,
     In Edvard Munch's The Scream
An unknown affair, a farewell
     With very few witnesses.

          Nothing can save us.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

Stay...
...like an origami would.

© 2014 J.S.P.

My words are empty.
They are once filled...
...within me.*

© 2014 J.S.P.

I lie here, fresh, pronated,
Sifting through the sheets of my memory
For the strand, a hint, a mark,
A scar
Of her decadent delicacies,
Of urges and celibacies,
Just to quiet me and falter,
And falter hard, mad,
Into the night gentler
Than the lightest of strokes,
     Her touch.

And the moon creeps through my heart tonight—
A chill, a violent chill, still—
An opera, a sonata, an elegy,
A requiem
Just because I fought
     With an angel.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

My tongue does not hurt
In darkness.
     It makes love.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

Here's a vase.
You don't give flowers
To a flower.*

© 2014 J.S.P.

I know you too well.
I know your disregard for me,
For everything
About me.

I know the face of the ocean.
I know your waist that turns you.
I know the magic of your laughter
That heaps upon me,
Upon the shadow of me the Sun abandons.
I harbor all of your beauty that are unowned
And my heart moves there.

All my struggles march into you,
Towards you.
I am aware of the success
That might never come to me,
As some things are meant for your denial,
For your forgetting:

Isles, alleys,
Roofs,
Banners in the streets;
Let all forgotten things be forgotten still,
Quiet,
Awaiting all of your gifts
All of their lives.

But please...
Don't deny me of the gift
Of forever loving you:

For all things,
All days even,
Might finally forget me.

© 2010 J.S.P.

My heart is cold and empty,
Love has sapped me of love
In all the right places, rooted in me.
Time nourished me.
And it would be lonely for you there.

Scars bridged all fate I have,
Altogether. My poems--
Buoying me to the river
Of my mind, and out to finding you.

My heart is cold and empty.
So bring the world with you.
Your dream, your soul, your pride.
Bring the photo of your dearest smile,
The pallette of your eyes, that is
Also water, and sun, and sky.
Your discoveries and doubts--
Dear, take them with you,
For there would be many, there,
That are not. All is shadow within,
And burden, and gravity.

You would know what its like
To be the light or the feather,
A star, or hope
To one that is hopeful.
You would feel what it is
To be one, and being one,
And being all
With me.

You would kiss, as though
To love yourself. Embrace, as though
To set one free. And journey,
As though to settle on my heart,
Realigning all that is whole
With all imperfect pieces.

Now, live,
Love in faith.
Go after dreams,
And silly things,
Fail. Learn. Act.
Feel.
Drink coffee.
Sing Karaoke.
Be crazy.
Ignore poetry.
Believing,
That way,
Somehow,
You are loving me.*

© 2014 J.S.P.

Sure as the stars are blindfolded
So as to better their listening to our hearts,
     I will make love to you.

I will make love to you.
I shall stitch the shadow of the Sun
     To the sky.

I will make love to you,
     And make you mine.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

Of all the many that had fallen
From and to the love-bed of love,
     He was the one to take her heaven,
The white-winged monster
Under sheets, her blankets,
     Devouring dreams
          Between her legs.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

My heart was
An empty
Nudist beach
Before I met you,
But now
You are there,
We are there.
     And finally
          Are...*

© 2015 J.S.P.

Eyes and eyelids,
     Smoke and fire.
Eyes and eyelids,
     Star and sky.
Eyes and eyelids,
     Shell and pearl.
Eyes and eyelids,
     Cat and fur.
Eyes and eyelids,
     Light and blur.
Eyes and eyelids,
     Close, unfurl.

Eyes and eyelids,
     Her eyes and eyelids.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

An eighteen-wheeler truck
Smashing through a Jaguar XK8.
     How priceless...*

© 2015 J.S.P.

I have never seen such sad confetti,
A burst of melancholia, no hint of pain,
A drizzle, an arrow to the soul.
     What tragedy!

At night, alone, looking
At Afremov's First Snow,
I grin. I smirk it hard
And the forced laughter comes.
I imagine what hers would sound like,
     And colors, extravagant colors.
It makes me wonder when we'll be foolish together.
What smile would color me
     And color it back?

Below her nostrils,
Below her air, her breath,
The smoke, her oxygen,
Are my mouth, her mouth,
Her lips and some more breath—
All too tangible—
     A machinery.

But there's some spirit there, I know,
A kiss that need not press on,
A smaller infinity, a found virginity.
And the light would shed its dark elsewhere
     Revealing her shadow, her true.

I know there would be love, love,
Somehow, for her,
     In her.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

We are too young,
Yet too old
     To be original.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

To embrace her
Is to be dandled
     At her lap.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

...the sorriest thing
When you left me
For leaving you so long,
Or was it yours?

If it is mine,
Then leave it broken.
Leave it broken.

But if it’s yours,
Then let me say to you,
At least,
That I am sorry, uncertain
Of your return.

And then tell
Your close friends
That it was me
Who begged for you
To stay.

© 2010 J.S.P.

Someday, stars will plummet
Like banished beings,
     As we love.*

© 2015 J.S.P.