Kiss, kiss, kiss for me
A tender line, a border--all afternoon--
Straighter
Than the sword of the soul
To divide me, to awaken me,
Somewhere, between the rage
And the calm:

So that my thrusts steady,
Would hurt and agitate,
Bleed and satisfy, winning us
The ancient war.

Then, I am still for you,
For loving, for country
All deep evenings. Imagine
The stealth of the world in effect
As honey drips some place
Inside a hive. The cicadas-- intrigued.
A flower pollinating.

We will burn the known
Elements, even fire.
The shadows, the moon
And the stars will warm
Their hands together
Near the shaking flame.*

© 2014 J.S.P.

Here's a vase.
You don't give flowers
To a flower.*

© 2014 J.S.P.

Mount me by the belly...
...and take a stolen shot.*

© 2014 J.S.P.

The cares in the world are as little
As the arcs your eyes make
When you smile--
Whenever you smile.
This interaction--soul to soul,
Silly, with both stares bending, ending
In laughters. I cannot pair my thumb
To the lower detail of your lips.
I cannot cuddle your pains
In the past. I cannot quite conclude
How your hips sway me
Towards hope than to surrendering.

You are the type that needs
Chasing, after falling for.
I have to be happily ever after you
Or be sad forever.
I am the lovesick
Wanting to be the one
Who feels for you,
For your forehead, your neck,
Assessing for fever
In vain.

The little I do understand
About love,
I forget little by little.
Little by little, I petal you
To the glory of such force,
Of such feeling, its truest,
Simple and bravely.
Slow is the death we die for love;
Forever is what it takes.

Dear, in the darkest days of life,
My love, my only, I want you
To save your life
That is also mine. I want you
To take everything necessary,
For you to start a new one.
Leave sorrow. Take air away.
I won’t be selfish of all-you
For all-me.

I won’t be jailing your heart
For me,
For the best things in life…
…are free.*

© 2014 J.S.P.

What do these matter?
At the park,
There is an empty seat,
Where an ant pass food
To its kind.
An old tire lies
On an old rooftop–
Sometimes, a street kid
Smiles, playing with such.
The Stonehenge and
The Aurora Borealis.
The works of Pablo Neruda.
The Mona Lisa.
The Banawe Rice Terraces
And our being one,
Together. A kiss.
Our kiss.

Poems. Music. Epics. Wind.
Your yellow-painted fingernails.
The blue colors of this country.
The red arrow that bursts
Forth into kisses that drip
All over me. And just to
Gladly die for you. To die for you.

A coherent thought about love
Will always be proven false.
All we become and have to be
Is good ignorance. All we nearly had
Are but cruel clues that ever
So entice. All we ever witnessed
Are nomadic crumbs
Small beaks pecked along
The moony way.
And all sad waters, suns
And sacrificial stars
Will always burn down
Going South. But
What do these matter?

For these,
I am loving you,
Yet, even more.

Now death
Is even more confusing.
And our friend, Time, will soon
Be against us.
So, I am Leo.
And you are Pisces.
Love weaves secrets.
And men love mysteries.*

© 2014 J.S.P.

Our love had no bite,
But it was...
...all...
...tongue.*

© 2014 J.S.P.

Let us count...
...the numbers backwards,
and make life...
...count.*

© 2014 J.S.P.