Genuinely here, one sees this
Beautiful reality everywhere; and then heals

Throughout these decrepit buildings
I see so much color.
There is dirt, rusted unwanted things
And yet, isn’t it beautiful? The way
The light hits a mirror just so?

I watch the night sky and am drawn
To the beauty of a sliver of moon;
A lone star dancing just above it.
The black night sky stretches around
Them and yet, and yet..

For this is who I was, who I am, and
Who I will forever be.

Wrestle me well, my love,
     For we were star-crossed enemies,
          And I miss you.

My shoulders miss your caring arms,
My lips crave your pale-red tongue,
     A slice of refreshment, watermelon,
My chest searches the rise of your chest,
And my torso longs only, and is only,
     For your leg locks.

     Grapple me and my lightweight heart,
     As the backbone of this world breaks,
     As the sun sinks into final submission,
          But I will never tap on this love out.

               Never.*

© 2017 J.S.P.

you always say you were never good with words,
but it's your wide eyes
and strong hands, soft touch,
that speak to me in hushed tones

as for me, my heart goes wild
with mad love and adoration for you,
so much that when i try to speak
the words stumble and i am tongue tied

so it always ends with you
and me
and the quiet
and the way we both lack a way with words,
yet the comfortable silence we share
amplifies the light of love
bursting in our hearts

He was blue;
He felt deeply, but felt fluidly.
He constantly sat atop a fence;
Threatening to fall, but never committing to a side.
He didn't crave attention, but he didn't need to.
His voice could draw the angels from heaven,
His thoughts could make philosophers stop and listen,
And they were all so blue.

I was red;
I felt deeply, but I felt strongly.
I constantly dangled from a rope;
Threatening to fall, but refusing to let go.
I drew attention, but I despised it.
My ideas were unstable and they had to get out,
My music was full of emotion, both torment and glee,
And it was all so red.

Separately, we were abrasive.
We had our own ways of doing things, and liked it that way.
But together, we were something else.
We balanced eachother out; we filled eachother in.
And everything felt so perfect with him,
For when we were together, a beautiful violet would form
Where skin touched skin and where heart touched heart,
And all was right in the world.

Waves torment the sand,

pulling back, always running

empty shore, naked

Oh, and darling
If you asked
for water
I'd bring you the ocean

What makes a poet ?
That was my thought
I mulled it over and
Came up with these oughts :

Late nights with
coffee , tea or beer
Perhaps harder stuff
Whiskey , smoke or gin clear

And the struggles and pain
as the birth is exclaimed
Blood , sweat and tears
Falling as hard as ice on rain

Confessionals made
As black on white page
Love , death , fears
Even extreme rage

One who struggles
with the a's and the's
Should one even use
The apostrophe

One who's words
Gel by the witching hour
Words full of promise  
Warnings so dour

But perhaps greatest of all
Before even the start
One must have
a true poet's heart