i melt into your words like they're poetry
so here's my attempt to give you what you've given me...
how i see your world from my rose-colored glasses
and see a fairytale, and when i take them off,
i find with you reality is just as sweet;
how i'm always quiet when you speak because
i can't find the words to embellish my thoughts around you
but you can spin silk with the tongue you sing with;
how your smile means miles of metaphors to me
and on days i can't return the favor
you're able to shine though the clouds in me;
and how i feel compelled to tell you everything
even if i can't bring myself to say i love you aloud yet.
i don't deserve your poetry
and you're above mine,
but if you'll take it then that's all that matters to me right now

Gladly, surrendering,
     Stiff and still,
Lying, in this night of nights
Burning so proudly in my being,
     This righteous scald,
A firebird pecking, dismantling,
     Piecing into ecstasies and art
My cold, cold heart,
For you are here, near, tickling
Caressing    
     My unassuming hip...

          ...with your eyebrows.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

i’m searching for words that do not exist
grasping for something in the matterless air
they call it writer’s block
but i feel much more disconnected than blocked
as if overnight someone had unplugged
all the cords to my creativity
my mind feels dim and dissolved
a damp empty space
having no mass but seeping into my heart
the nothingness fills me up
and i stare hopelessly
at the blank page in front of me

I kiss you, and so, therefore, my self.
I kiss my forehead when I kiss you,
And free the butterflies up
From a bottle of a dream, that is a poem
Of love, when I kiss you,
If and when I kiss you, and in the process
To let you kiss yourself,
From kissing me tender for so long, for so sweet,
From the upper and the lower lip, from the upper
To the lower chest of mine, then yours,
Just to propagate them
As the secret kisses on your thighs, perfumed,
And do what our mouth does to the summer fruits,
While I kiss you to surrendering
Of self, of glory,
Of pride.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

Without a coin,
Without even wishing,
The wealth of this well
Has been thrown back at me.
     Me.

          Because you love me.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

Just like people,
A book without a spine
Are just sheets,
Just...sheets.

     Just like people...*

© 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.

It's raining again
& I'm writing poetry again
fresh coffee in my cup

what to write, what to write
about childhood, love or human rights
the rain is falling outside

& I've done all that before
so I'm searching for the poet
inside myself & looking for

odd lines that may take my fancy
meanwhile, the rain is falling outside
& the sky can't be seen for clouds

' I'm just another poet
on a rainy day'
I whisper

the sky doesn't answer