Pelvis withdraws.

The tongue...
...wins.

© 2014 J.S.P.

My love is a tower, a stone,
Cold stunner, here,
     I can see you, notice you,
As my sad arms long
     To carry you.

I like your blush at midday
Which are blossoming aptenias,
     Or female flame of poppies.
It does not matter if your friend would giggle,
     But how I long to carry you.

I am a dreamer and my love
Is a tower, the city tower,
     I despair oftentimes for I cannot go with you.
My feet are nowhere near your feet,
Your front door is the closest
That they can get to, as I would
     Slow down near the open window,
A long streak of line,
Of contrast, of vagueness,
     Or disintegrating light.

A dark sail comes in the afternoon
     To take the sunset away,
And how I wanted you like
     Its hunted filament,
Having it in my hand,
     Only that, even just that.

You are no princess
And my love is a tower,
     I think it is quite clear.
I harbor the giant gears
Like a burden, the haunting histories,
My torn being, the dragons
     Of a dying rose.

See, my heart is a tower,
Ever old and ever new,
     And it has lost you.
The song of night hurries itself into being,
     It is not satisfied that I am lonely,
It despairs along with the artistry,
The architecture, the scenery, the cooing
     Of an exhausted bird.

For in this night, and
In any given night, I belong
     Among these millions.
I have a giant tower, and
     I am never low enough.
My soul, blue, bows
     Like stooping water.
The hopeless stars look at you,
Vindemiatrix, Ain, Acamar,
And it is you, solely, that
     We ever want to reach.

The deep night starts to sing to me,
     In lights and memories,
But there is nothing like your voice,
Voicing out the echoes
     On my lips.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

This is your hand, your finger,
The bond of our laughter, the ring
On your ring finger, to draw
     The number eight
Wrist after wrist oftentimes
With our fingers, to show
The inked small heart, a smile, genuinely,    
     Returning back.

These are your eyes piecing all the darkness,
     Heaping, keeping all stars on my head,
Fending off the sheep, colliding all the worlds, opening the close,
     Whisking holes in the cold, cold universe.
The lost words taste, fade, melt
In the whole mouth, like a flame,
     A signal fire.

All is illusion. Love
Is the spirit between two souls
Inside two hearts
Beside two minds
     In one understanding.
It's the only defining truth, that,
     As always, there is.*

© 2016 J.S.P.

You can't completely hate.
You burn photos...
...from the corner.*

© 2014 J.S.P.

Maybe next time
It is not just your tablet
But, also, my chest,

When it is not just my tablet,
     But, also...*

© 2015 J.S.P.

My words wade through absences,
Memories,
     Into sentences
           Into poetry.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

My heart has emptied itself into my mind
The same kind of emptiness a leaf has,
Keeping it afloat, and keeping it unfree,
Lying, arrested, on the melancholic mirror,
The teardrops of the foreign gods,

The kind of lonely which has lurked on
Its verdant veins always, always missing their old blood,
Their feet, their seasons, their rootless root wandering,
Wailing, hovering all over the islands and their self-pitying,
Which kept them miserable and sane, sometimes,

As my mind empties itself into my heart,
With all beauty and curse, strength and fragility,
An elixir, the panacea, the venom, the decay,
The memories, the memories, the same thing that
Makes the stars seem shivering while you look at them,
At night, in deep nights, in the course of your sobbing,
When you cannot fully sleep, when a mystic moon
Is but a shard of the sun your spirit was.

This is your pain. This is your mind venting, like eyes,
Like the same eyes that did not look at you
While bidding their goodbyes.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

Hips...
   Chest...
      Face...
         Waist...
            ...traced.

© 2014 J.S.P.

Jesse, I am already tiptoeing
With my tap shoes on.

Here is your 'i love you' poem:

''I love you.''*

© 2015 J.S.P.

Shelter your frailty into the open.
Protect it from your lungs, your soul, your *******,
Your curved bones and apprehensions.
I say release and decompress.
Forsake the dangers in your chest
     And love me.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

Someday, all deaf ears
Will listen
     To the mute poet.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

If we will be together, like
Together Together, she said,
How do you intend
To propose for marriage?

Well, I don't know, he said.
But I cannot be, desolately be
With a woman who chooses
Romance over mystery.*

© 2014 J.S.P.

Love is setting
Both your feelings
     And a person free.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

And even if you had to hurt her,
And bare yourself like a broken
Promise, shedding off your wool,
     Make her moan in petals,
Let her curse all butterflies, and
See to it that the stars ache with her,
That way, your cheek won't miss the beauty
     Of being thumbed.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

Humming
Humbly.

Hopeful.

Heading
Home.*

© 2013 J.S.P.

His indefatigable bones
Spirited, unearthened—
     A valiant effort
          To immortality.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

I look deeply at you.
I look at you deeply.
I touch the comet tails.
I witness Arided, Asmidiske
And the blessed Sun of Joshua.
I peel the galaxy off of stars.
I hear the lyric and the moon.
I feel the musings of your heart.
I light the crescents on your chest.
I harbor wolves from the snow.
I write like Neftali Ricardo Reyes Basoalto.
And I become distant, a sigh, a spirit.
I look at you deeply.
I look deeply at you.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

a wildfire of blue and azure
     eats a spread of buttery white
near the crawling cool of yellow
     which wounds the wistful waters,

wealthy waves of whiskery green
     dance and sing with the dark,
star-spun dreams from her mind,
     flaring over them, asleep,

envision the pink, flirty flag of hers,
     of flesh, ever so inviting, and
the soft, infinite red which bursts
     into pleasures, and flavors,
fine, fine flavors where this
     tongue, gladly,
          will dive into.

we were all impressed and deceived
     by the pallette of the world.
i say, mark that orange sphere
     as often as you could.
     remember it...
          ...with her...

...for our eyes, too, will wear off,
     abandoning the richest
     of life's colors.

from then on, hear me say,
     i love her,
for what are words, but
     a soul from my heart
          painting my soul,

and my very soul is love,
     what can i say?
the derivative of my works,
     my poetry, is from
     and is her.

she is the color purple
     in this slow burn
          at twilight,

     as i hang Blambitt's Peacock
          on the wall.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

I do not intend to withdraw and abstain,
And succumb to the pitiful state of complacency,
What I never own, I decided,
I must bestow, freely,
     Unto you.
I shall not shy an ounce of energy away
From its full-blown capacities or capabilities
     Of grand intensities.
If I have to stay, then I shall stay,
And stay with you, driven by infinities.
     There is no other way.
I shall not ebb and flow
To this limiting experience,
This dire existence. I shall love
     And love you bravely, purely.
This is my course, my dictum, my curse:
Each star is love and the threshold
     Is the Universe.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

Love doesn't hold.
It carries.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

I cannot see myself
Marrying an atheist
     Inside a Church.*

© 2015 J.S.P

Not even the vein
On her ringfinger
Reached
Her heart.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

What a classic tragedy!
A small fragility
     Covered by fragilities.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

Can't lick your elbow,
Can you?
     I can*, said she.

© 2015 J.S.P.

The known world will destroy
Itself with absurd propensities.
Our past will start to hurt, just as
     Our imaginations would.

Soon we will act like dogs,
And you know the old, old trick,
Dog eats dog,
     Then eats men.

Your beauty will reave me of words,
And words, dream. My silence
Will deceive. I will pilfer through
The works of those before me--
     The timeless liars,

Then my mind will front my heart
To mask itself, and these poems,
Easily, will fall to the category
     Of deft pretentiousness,

And yet I love you, I love you,
It is the sole truth
     I did not think of.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

Swallow me, Earth.
Swallow me slow.
     Just swallow me, Pride.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

A boastful poet sees a baby
     In a high chair.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

A vulture ate the lion's heart,
The rest, a hyena.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

And even though it doesn't want to,
The moon sees itself in the river,
The light, the shadows that it cannot touch,
The borders of your Neverland,
That grand open garland, your waist
That tickles past imaginations.

The night air, as Eve was,
Had nothing to wear.
Frantic, it covers itself
With your hair,
Perfumed, it laughs at itself,
Sharing its first fruit.
I, a human, am staring
At the very breath of God.

Forget the wind, the moon,
The river, the old, old
Stars hung as jealousy.
I have a mustard seed of love.
And I need only to believe you.

© 2011 J.S.P.

There were two snow globes in two glass houses,
Two ballet dancers in a studio,
Two butterflies that have gone back to the chrysalises,
And two wishes coming true,
    As her soul, gradually, peers through.
And I tell her,
It is a Universe outside as it is within.
I lead her eyes to a close
     With a kiss.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

I vow to love you with my every,
     Every now and then.
So every now and then, I might hurt you,
For great chances had their risky clause,
And so your soul will wash your cheek,
Your nose red from having pinched by me,
     Every now and then.

So every now and then,
Every now and then, you will cry, weep,
And tears will start to dig through my clothes,
But remember from where they fall,
For those are what I fell for.

     Even now. Even then.

© 2015 J.S.P.

Say, a star has the eyes
To gaze at you, holding out its telescope,
     And decide to leave its post to be with you,
Or on second thought, just to get a better angle
     Of your laugh-smile-wink impeccable,
Would it still be foolish
To say, with all profundities,
     That you, indeed, are beautiful?

What does it matter, tonight
     The cicadas sing of hyperboles.
There's a certain cold, sometimes,
     In the wind, as in a heart.
The warmth is in the blankets there
On my bedroom, something
That your sweater will never know.
     Friendship is basic love.
The moon has its own old course,
As shadows, timely, vary,
     Faithful to its better half.

Now, tell me,
Laugh at me, reason with me,
     With those agitated eyes,
Which are foreign to the idea
     Of these mysteries.

Isn't it possible, terribly so,
For one, for anyone,
     For someone, for me,
To fall in love with you,
     My friend?*

© 2015 J.S.P.

I shall tuck two kisses on your collarbones
Like actual children you will tell love stories to
Just below the fire, the light of your eyes,
Just above the apices of your lungs, your life force,
Hoping in your heart, inside, I slept,
     And sleep no more.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

Her warm spirit elopes with her singing,
Sometimes, to kiss,
     Kiss, kiss,
          My ear.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

Without a coin,
Without even wishing,
The wealth of this well
Has been thrown back at me.
     Me.

          Because you love me.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

She kisses
Old kisses away
Much better
Than the last.*

© 2014 J.S.P.