Count, my friend. Make them count.
Limit your words to ten, or less,
As though to conceal a panorama
Of thoughts inside a dreamcatcher,
Or the stars to a wallflower, I wonder,
If you infuse all flavors that there is, altogether,
On her doubled lip of plum, the herbs of your country,
An Asia of spices squandering her mouth,
Will she smile? Hunger is key
To her heart. Use it.

Rhyme, my friend, toy with the galaxies,
Unleash the behavior of a predator, an annihilator,
Ready to swallow the moon for her love,
And burn the Venuses of the Universe,
Her doubts, her insecurities.

Blind her with the imagery of love, her true self,
For love is blind, and is yet to see the light
That she emanates. My friend, flatter her
With the colors she was deprived of.

And then, slowly, unbridle your soul, your spirit,
The white mares of your chariot. I say, set foot
To your heart, my friend, and set your self free.
The constraint of words is the constraint
Of affection. It is to chain the Divine
To the old, old pillars of ambiguities.
     Remember that.

For it is with an I love you
That you write the poem of love, my friend,
     On her wrists, waist, her chest.

          Now, tell her that.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

The italics of my poetry
Leans only to your soul.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

I sail behind your tears, beyond your soul,
Believing there is love in there, somewhere,
Deep, and silent, in a sea...

          ...of sunken hearts.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

As I draw your lips near,
Embracing all adversities,
Keeping true a premise,
Let us not set a feeling free.
Let us hold it tight perfected,
Together, like burning suns
Imploding, as final bursts
Of energies, a theory,
A star rid of infinities.*

© 2014 J.S.P.

A wood drifts,
A car,
The snow...
          ...drifts,

          Her heart...*

© 2015 J.S.P.

     Hope is active, it is a verb more than a noun. I cannot let it be defined by the weight or the length of wait, for patience is another thing. My hope is mobile, nomadic, hard-headed, went astray and was lost, but now is marching straight ahead, focused, headed towards your direction.

     If I have to settle in the uncertainty, allow in wilderness of time, just to find my self writing these silly love poems, then I'd rather live among the tents around your heart. I will stand by and for it and vow to guard. Shall I be doomed to be the fasting wolf that fends the other wolves away, then so be it. My heart will be yours as your secondary shield.

     I am persistence and I am endurance, because they have to go hand in hand, I cannot forsake one over the other, nor lose them both. I am an old train, diligent, opening all doors for one. I am a platform, wide, immovable, a place you can always stand on. And out of thousands and thousands of passengers, I am making up ny mind, you are the one I choose.

     You are the one I would wait and wait and wait and wait and wait and wait and (for the 7th time, for in the Bible 7 means completion) wait for, and pray for and gladly fight for, for you are worth it, all of it.

          Love perseveres.*

© 2017 J.S.P.

Someday, all deaf ears
Will listen
     To the mute poet.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

I would draw a curve like those
Of a fishing boat, its bottom,
Or the body of the moon sometimes
     In its perfect time
          And begin to dream.

And google things like,
"a small depression in the flesh,
Either one that exists permanently
Or one that forms in the cheeks
When one smiles",
     And then write poetry,
          Subpar to the actual thing.

You don't know the magic that you are.

Through your smile,
I learned to cheat all death, all life,
All me, all being, all being,
     All what-ifs and trying-to-be-s.
Through your smile, I knew,
     That God is good, has been
          And always will be.

Through you, I knew,
     I have always been happy.*

© 2017 J.S.P.

I cannot see myself
Marrying an atheist
     Inside a Church.*

© 2015 J.S.P

Train Time
Like it's a young elephant,
     Beast of burden!*

© 2015 J.S.P.

Love me by that glow, love me
By not loving me, love me only
When you're not doing so,
     And I'd stop loving you day by day.

Do not bargain for that kiss.
Do not count the times,
Nor the ways that lead to it.
Do not hide behind your lips, your curves.
     Be that light risen from you,
          Do not be the shadow.

Don't even tell me that your love
Is something that you carry, nor
     It is the Moon that changes over time,
For it would break me, knowing
That you have lost it,
     For it would change me over time.

My love, know
That what I ask of you
Is love. So please
Be that love,
     Please...*

          Just be You.

© 2015 J.S.P.

We are too young,
Yet too old
     To be original.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

Love is the only struggle
We truly want
     To face.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

I palpate with words
As often
     As with my hands.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

God must be really kind to spare you
From my impatience, but it only means
That you have to deal with my persistence,
     You have to tame my hard-headed heart.

It does not guarantee that I'd pursue you
With an equal amount of passion
Each and every time, but it certifies
That it can possibly withstand the length
Of wait it requires just to get into your heart,
And the objective is always not to captivate
     But to penetrate.

One's love must be generous, not stingy,
Nor cunning, nor selfish, nor proud,
For there's no sound sense in defeating
Your very purpose, being driven
By a hidden agenda. I'm in a battle
     Where I don't want to force a draw.
I'm here to help you win, against all pain,
     All fear, all doubts.

I want to be your warrior, princess of Jesus.
I want to be what I never got to be before.
I want to be a man, and man up
     For the cause which you deserve.

          You deserve, at all costs, to be loved.*

© 2017 J.S.P.

The sight of ice being swirled
Inside a glass, the sweet
Sound of drink being poured, the taste
Of thirst in the saliva. Her kiss—
     A mad mirage.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

Frolicking colors:
Blue...
White...

Perfect.

© 2014 J.S.P.

I can imagine staircases already
From her legs up,
The sassy strut divine
     Of deities descending,

Her curvatures, delight,
Carefully cascading, lather me
As hands on her hands, as fingers,
     Or *****, my spirit.

I am nowhere near my mind
Within her mind,
The clauses of her mind, this flower.
     O her oblivious flower, opened, bare and all.

I can hear it all already, all,
Her steps deceptive,
The pleasant cries and onomatopoeias,
     A princess or a pheasant somewhere,
     Surrendering, the grin
          Of suffering.

I can sense it, feel it, peal it from our canvasses,
Which were carcasses for so long, taste it,
O sweet molasses,
     Which intimacies were hers,
          Were mine.

We're mine alone.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

Eyes and eyelids,
     Smoke and fire.
Eyes and eyelids,
     Star and sky.
Eyes and eyelids,
     Shell and pearl.
Eyes and eyelids,
     Cat and fur.
Eyes and eyelids,
     Light and blur.
Eyes and eyelids,
     Close, unfurl.

Eyes and eyelids,
     Her eyes and eyelids.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

Swallow me, Earth.
Swallow me slow.
     Just swallow me, Pride.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

The grand turbulence, the fury
Of the flower's first opening,
     The song of spring
At the tips of the leaves,
     Dripping the delicious
With the buzz and the sting.
The nectar-lady, the juice
That she brings, and
     The chaos of a thirst
     In the mouth, with a burst,
          Scrumptious, satisfying.*

© 2016 J.S.P.

You can't completely hate.
You burn photos...
...from the corner.*

© 2014 J.S.P.

This is your hand, your finger,
The bond of our laughter, the ring
On your ring finger, to draw
     The number eight
Wrist after wrist oftentimes
With our fingers, to show
The inked small heart, a smile, genuinely,    
     Returning back.

These are your eyes piecing all the darkness,
     Heaping, keeping all stars on my head,
Fending off the sheep, colliding all the worlds, opening the close,
     Whisking holes in the cold, cold universe.
The lost words taste, fade, melt
In the whole mouth, like a flame,
     A signal fire.

All is illusion. Love
Is the spirit between two souls
Inside two hearts
Beside two minds
     In one understanding.
It's the only defining truth, that,
     As always, there is.*

© 2016 J.S.P.

Finally...
Someone who kisses
For air
And not for water!

© 2014 J.S.P.

I have never seen such sad confetti,
A burst of melancholia, no hint of pain,
A drizzle, an arrow to the soul.
     What tragedy!

At night, alone, looking
At Afremov's First Snow,
I grin. I smirk it hard
And the forced laughter comes.
I imagine what hers would sound like,
     And colors, extravagant colors.
It makes me wonder when we'll be foolish together.
What smile would color me
     And color it back?

Below her nostrils,
Below her air, her breath,
The smoke, her oxygen,
Are my mouth, her mouth,
Her lips and some more breath—
All too tangible—
     A machinery.

But there's some spirit there, I know,
A kiss that need not press on,
A smaller infinity, a found virginity.
And the light would shed its dark elsewhere
     Revealing her shadow, her true.

I know there would be love, love,
Somehow, for her,
     In her.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

The way she stares—
The line between attraction
     And seduction.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

Her eyes moved...
...like tumbleweeds.

© 2014 J.S.P.

I longed for love but never lacked,
Perhaps an ounce of you
     Way back when I was yours
Seemed sufficient for me to show
Such affection until now,
     Undiminished, and have endured,
A sign, a shoot, a sprout,
The rewarding cause or curse
     Of resiliency,

For we can never un-love,
     We just forget.

Seasons, and poems
     And poets passed, yet,
Those withered leaves might have
Outlived the weeds around, so I can say
For another day, another month,
Another year, and though I fear,
     Be it a lifetime, that I have loved,
And will always love
Until this heart
     Speak no more,

For it will have become dust,
Waiting for your breath...
     ...to have it carried.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

His indefatigable bones
Spirited, unearthened—
     A valiant effort
          To immortality.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

Fishes, upright, inside an elevator.
How we all smell alike.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

I love her C-s and O-s,
Her zeroes,
Her parentheses.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

My tongue does not hurt
In darkness.
     It makes love.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

Your shoe...
...meets...
...your toothbrush.

© 2014 J.S.P.

Tears are fast...
...expanding...
...metaphors.

© 2014 J.S.P.

Muscles work...
...as you smile.

© 2014 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.

a wildfire of blue and azure
     eats a spread of buttery white
near the crawling cool of yellow
     which wounds the wistful waters,

wealthy waves of whiskery green
     dance and sing with the dark,
star-spun dreams from her mind,
     flaring over them, asleep,

envision the pink, flirty flag of hers,
     of flesh, ever so inviting, and
the soft, infinite red which bursts
     into pleasures, and flavors,
fine, fine flavors where this
     tongue, gladly,
          will dive into.

we were all impressed and deceived
     by the pallette of the world.
i say, mark that orange sphere
     as often as you could.
     remember it...
          ...with her...

...for our eyes, too, will wear off,
     abandoning the richest
     of life's colors.

from then on, hear me say,
     i love her,
for what are words, but
     a soul from my heart
          painting my soul,

and my very soul is love,
     what can i say?
the derivative of my works,
     my poetry, is from
     and is her.

she is the color purple
     in this slow burn
          at twilight,

     as i hang Blambitt's Peacock
          on the wall.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

Strangely, my feelings drifted towards forgetting you,
     As though to lose our kisses between our two goodbyes
Or having found the truth of not being loved by you.
You know this love of mine, dearest,
     You know how to breathe. You know that I need you.
This hyacinthine sky does not appear reasonless,
Neither your body, your eyes, which swayed me towards love,
     For you are one, my love, only, so I believe in fate.
But when you go and then return
And then decide to go again, it is then,
That my hand was certain of your farewell
     And like that picture that slipped off of your fingers,
Consequently, I have forgotten you so sudden,
So fast, in fact, so swift that my heart
Does not leap towards yours anymore,
     Nor my lips lower for that kiss.
And this is where I'm sure
That this must be goodbye,
     This must be our fate,
          Apart, alive, asunder.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

I have enveloped you with my dying hands
And everything that might bring you here
From some place in my dreams.

Death would be a cruel death
If I have none to hold, my love.
Truly, my heart still seeks for you:

You, my dearest,
My pain, my breath;
The song that carries me to a long lost echo;
The echo that appears to be my nightsong,
Must curse me:

To bring old painful truth
On lasting new memories,
To bind forgotten lips
On long-forgotten lips,
And to have you--
Though not having you-

Gifted to be as loving as angels,
Gifted to just roam the earth
Without a face,
Or flesh--

Taking the final form...
...of pure love.

© 2010 J.S.P.

I travel in your fair thoughts
As though to travel in your world.
Sometimes, I try to understand
Why your eyes cannot reach me.
Sometimes, I do not know you but--
But still I want to linger
Like I truly know you.                  

Shyly, I intend to blanket you with my palms
As if I can cocoon a butterfly back
Into its gentle sleep.
I am absorbed at it and I cannot disengage.

You bring hope and needed refuge to a wandering soul.
Cluelessly, your blue warmth caresses,
And it opens for me
Like an afternoon:
My rest from tough day's work.
Because of you I can somehow get by
With this life.

Love,
You're my north star,
And another,
And a few hundreds more.
I intend to walk and follow
My disregard for my longing heart.
But still, at night, you form for me
A constellation, a guiding invitation
Just to love again.

And how I need to lean on you,
Like a book leaning to another.
But at times, when I can see you reaching out,
It is my hand that readily un-fists and steadies,
Worried for which its not accountable of.

Because of you I can only imagine--
How immense would re-birthing
Drowned islands be inside your heart,
As I wonder at a far-off shore
How to get there, how to know you.

'Cause maybe
Just like me,
You are finding someone new.

© 2010 J.S.P.

Maybe next time
It is not just your tablet
But, also, my chest,

When it is not just my tablet,
     But, also...*

© 2015 J.S.P.

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

© 2014 J.S.P.

It took a leaf
     And a thousand more
To make this blinding sun sparkle,
And time crafted the elements altogether,
But your eyes took this kiss,
     Just this kiss,
          And then no more.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

The grand turbulence, the fury
Of a flower's
     First opening.*

© 2015 J.S.P.