~
he who is a little ahead of his time
whose treasures of the words random
romanticism is in the blood, marrow,
his mood is as the autumn clouds

he who has lost his path within path
drowning with dreams, sunk you within dreams  
again holds thousands of lost dreams
fly the colorful kites in the blue sky

he who hide within himself
**** in his naked poetry
In forms humorous,harmonic  
as a portrait of the Vincent's starry night

he is a pilgrim who has lost himself within spirituality  
holds everything with the love  
who is for everybody so everybody is for him
But in fact there is nothing in all his

he who is simple straight as the waterfall
when in complex grew hard stone
who broke rules for building rules,
knows himself within the other life

whose words never be end
again he moves on and on
who laughs in the moonlight
again swept in pain without thinking any gain

who looks the life
as a grain of sand
and see the sign of love
in the footprint of a fossil

he who is a poet -
~

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.

We kissed apart that there were smiles.
We smiled so close then there's a kiss.
We kissed too close, there was a burn.
We smiled, too far, it was goodbye.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

One day we will live in a house
Where plates are broken
Because of accidents.
Our plates will break
Because you were helping mommy
With the dishes
When the plate slipped from your fingers.
You and I will make faces
In the sink
With all the broken pieces
And laugh at the faces laughing back at us.
One day we will live in a home
Where plates are broken
Because of accidents.
And nothing will ever be thrown.

I want to be where the T V flickers
a soundless monotone of late night garbage
interspersed with cheesy adverts
Waiting for the demon to knock on the window
so I can leap out the door and catch it
and watch it run down the road SCREAMING
for mercy

The cruelest thing
you did
by far
was make me believe,
for a brief
shining
moment,
that someone
could actually
want me,
and then prove
so conclusively
that
no one
ever
could.

People who fight
their battles alone
either lose the battle
or lose themselves.