The fireflies
Buzz all around you,
Scattered drops of sunlight
Celebrating the darkness
Maybe we should try it too
Because if we wait for a happy moment to celebrate
We might just have to wait forever.


The autumn trees
Dance all around you
Moving their bare branches
On the beat of the silent wind
You never planted their seeds
Yet they shed their leaves
Watching you shed those precious tears.


Never say, oh, never think
You are alone in your struggle.
Think of all the eternities the sky has bled
For the earth it has never touched.
Yeah, think about the longings with which the ocean and the moon look at each other
And yet can never meet.

So, if you dream of skylines you have never seen,
Wake up with your dreams sitting on your eyelids
And if your heart is at a place far away,
Just know maybe it is supposed to be that way.

The earth when too close to sun,
Will become a ball of ashes,
The moon will have the tides turn
Into merciless savages.
Your heart, with you in his arms,
Will finally be at rest

And if it was not for this sadness, what would I still be writing about?

I will not write any poetry tonight
somewhat colder is the night
the cedars sleep
the cat is right
to curl up in dreams
so I will not write any poetry tonight
besides, how many can you write
(unless I want this graphomania,
that some say is our life)
the cedars sleep
the cat is right -
I will not write any poetry tonight
but watch time creep
until the dawn

writers block
with so much on my mind
how does one write
when they can't even gather the words
to express the emotions in their mind?

Time ticks and ticks as the writer’s mind fails to click.
Paper blank white
And obsidian ink drips.
Ideas passes through the writer’s mind, but cannot seem to make it flow.
Where to start?
Where to go?
A hero girl ready to start a new adventure?
But later wakes and finds herself in the middle of an English literature lecture?
No, no. Too cliche.
Give her flaws and write in a difficult situation.
Like perhaps
And have her sail to her next destination!
…
Sorry, I got writers block… couldn’t finish the poem. Bye.

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

© 2015 J.S.P.

Lips sealed tight;
inside
a gaping chasm stares me down.
Patience!
When the abyss unleashes
like a dam unhinged
words will flow
for better or worse
from lips no longer just mine.

Ugh I hate having a writers block...
It is like capturing a hurricane inside a box,
impossible right?

All these words are piling up and ready to be blown into poetic sentences.
But they are trapped inside this little box that I call my head.
These words are stumbeling and rushing and flying round in my head.

All these emotions are ready to fall down and crush the ground like heavy rain.
But they cannot escape this skull of mine although they really should
Now they just make me go crazy, make me flooded with things I can't seem to lose.

I am too full of words and pretty lies.
Too full of emotions, story's and confessions.
But somehow I am so busy getting rid of them, that they decided to stick to me like blood on a murderers hands.

I WANT THEM GONE
I WANT THEM OUT

please oh God, help me get rid of them....

staring at the
plain
page

from inside a
muffled
mind

full of my
empty
efforts

wasting all my
ticking
time

drying my pen's
idle
ink

as I sit here
trying to think

No bras this Friday, just scent,
Reviviscent, the eau de toilette,
Her *******, her dress, the pouring rain.

     My hands are...
                    ...cupped.
     No sunny day.
          No fire better.
     My touch, too, was a changing weather.

     So this is how I warm
          Her heart.*

© 2015 J.S.P.