Good morning, dear poetess,
How your words open my heart,
Awaken my mind,
Touch my soul.

Good morning, dear poetess,
How you enflame my passion,
Enlighten my thoughts,
Make me whole.

Good morning, dear poetess,
How your words encourage me,
Make my tears well,
Make my thoughts roll.

Good morning, dear poetess,
How you strengthen me,
Make me aware,
Let me reach each goal.

Good morning, dear poetess,
Thank you...
For being you...
For sharing you...
Thank you....

I wonder
what you meant
when you told me,
over the fifth cup of black coffee,
that you had fallen out of love
more than the number of times
you’d kissed someone,
your hands were not under-oxygenated
but, cold
because each hand you held before,
took away your share
of warmth too
and people
were just bricks
that you kept stacking
to build a wall around
your heart;
while, I
held your sweaty palms
and heard your heart
beat against your ribcage
like a storm.

This 'you' that everybody writes about are
The tears that stain our cheeks late at night,
The eyes that haunt our dreams every night,
The scars that remain as devil-ish memories of our weak moments.

I'm sick of this 'him' I'm sick of this 'her' that torments people day after day,
Making then write until their brain is pulsing and their hands are shaking.
I just want to be an okay me.
And if I need a 'him' to help me feel okay,
Then may God help me.
For I have no purpose in this world
Other than to rely on others for my heart to continue to beat.

I want to be the reason that I am still here.
I do not want to rely on another human soul.
For we are all doomed at one point to be nothing if that is the case.
But I just pray that if
Nothing we once were,
Then may our memories of life forever remain.

The hotel balcony is the highest
That I could get, just as lying down
On the greener grass in Luneta Park
Is the lowest that I could ever be,
All because she is with me,
All because my hand fits, feels just
Right about her hand, and all because
All the warmest stars kept on
Staring back at us, inspired.
We are the farthest satellite
That they could ever find.*

© 2014 J.S.P.

Through the wandering spectrum
Of cerulean dragonfly eyes
You fly without hesitation
Observing the vast and marvelous world
As if it were your own
As if it were your cut-out template,
With an admirable sense of wonder
And the fervent desire
Not only to know
But to contemplate
The luminescence of a fluttering firefly
How the brittle mechanisms of life
Apply
Through crystal-clear dragonfly wings
You carry your mind