If flowers that dropped from trees could remain fresh and the exact color they dropped as,we wouldn't call them dirt.
We would call them "beautiful things that form a beautiful natural colorful carpet" and even wait for the season that they would fall again and again without ever ceasing to do so.
They're still beautiful
^_^

Poetry is not synonymous for love.
Poetry is not synonymous for pain.
But I can make its words into an adjective
and use it to describe the tightening in my chest when I look at you
or the tightening in my chest
when you look the other way.

your touch melted my hard heart,
but now it's burnt.
my fingers fall apart,
missing yours inbetween

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When I was small, for me
     you always stood tall
taught me to look for shadows
     on the dead leaves of fall.

In the illusive bends of the road
     you were always my constant landmark
when misguided by night's cold breeze
     your light guided me in the dark

Now, taller buildings surround the place
   the columns support just a perishable lie
but you remain my perpetual pillar throughout
     holding up my life under this vast clouded sky.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My heart tries to hide,
behind that tall fat tree,
where we used to play
in the tempered evenings of may

Now the leaves are dry
birds don't sing on its branches
but the tree still seems alright
and I can hug you tight

People have made a fool of us
chopping your branch
and piercing our hearts
I want you to hold your breath
while we play one last game
and the three of us
will hang till our **death

One pulls me down in a sea of tenderness
safe gentle lapping waves of love and comfort
so soothing like a warm summer pond in the south
He is my anchor

The other loves me like a wild forbidden passionate rush
an all consuming type of love, making the world disappear
clinging to a life raft in a turbulent sea
He is my storm

Enticing waters with the luminous waves that can tempt the dead from their bed. My soul longs for both. I cannot drift off to peaceful sleep until the waves of desire find their sweet release. A wondrous storm of love in a turbulent sea or a steadfast anchor that has taken hold on a part of me

You have made it.
You’ve just made your self invincible.
The fact that you own this heart of mine
Rendered me vulnerable:
     The freeze of your smile,
          The death in your goodbye,
               The craze I felt I almost wanted,

So here I am,
A soul stuck in a sleepless state,
Writing poems just to forget
     What they really were about,
For longing, yet again, is disallowed
Because you got your eyes fixed
     In the opposite direction
That I can hardly see your face, your stars,
     The blaze of stars.
  
Now let me wait, at least, stay,
So that I may be able
     To understand why...
Why of all
The constellations to choose from
I chose the farthest, the one
     Most difficult to reach,

Then slowly, just maybe,
I’ll forget the glow...
     ...that you possess.*

© 2010 J.S.P.