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.

These past few weeks
Whenever I put pen to paper
I end up with nothing
No words flowing from my veins
No thoughts running in my mind
No stanzas waiting to be written
My leaves have dried up
My lake is frozen
My lemon fully squeezed
All thanks to you

You have been the only thing running in my mind for the past week
Tell me how long your legs can run cos I'm not sure I can take it any longer
You have been the only one dominating my mind like a computer virus
Making me forget everything but you
You are on my mind twenty four seven
In the 86400 seconds in a day
I can assure you you're the first and last thing on my mind
I'm starting to lose track of time

And yet I find no words to write about you
You bring out the bad poet inside of me
You bring to life this other side of me which ssstutters, always unsure of what to say because it might not be good enough
I am an overheating motor
I am an overmixed batter
I am a pen whose cap is left off

You know,
The funny thing is you have absolutely no idea how you affect me
You go on in your everyday life
You go about your day
You make endless maps and cross roads in my mind
And I don't even know if I cross yours
When others talk to you
I don't think they're aware that they're talking to my world
I don't think you're aware that you are my world
No, actually you are my universe
I am the stars, the galaxies, the comets, the meteors
The endless possibilities in our constantly expanding universe
Ready to be filled with our love

You leave me breathless, searching for words
So please,
tell me when you're going to leave my mind, cos I **** sure wanna start writing again

ANXIETY

why is this the only thing i can think (feel) now?
please make my words come naturally again

"blood
dark
tongue
***
****
bones
eyes
teeth"

my favorite words are swimming in my brain
& refuse to coagulate

they stick like glue to the roof of my mouth
& i can't seem to spit them out
flashes of nonsense recycled:

"BROKEN TEETH
secondhand smoke
i wAnt tO BREAK you
weightless in the dark"

my own fragmented reality
protecting my soft underbelly

anxiety breeds cowardice
or maybe they are just synonyms

either way all I can think (feel) is
*******

Will you let me
Read your scars
     And revise them?*

© 2015 J.S.P.

I lay in bed with writers block.
I don't know what to do when I can't write. I don't know what to do.

I lay in bed with writers block, and I down another sleeping pill. what to do when I can't sleep. I don't know what to do.

I lay on bed with writers block, loopy from the sleeping pills, and I think of the way our skin touched when we first met. I don't know what to do without you. I don't know what to do.

I lay in bed with writers block, loopy from the sleeping pills, thinking of the way our skin touched when we first met, and I feel a warm tear run down my cheek. Warm like the hug we exchanged. I don't know what to do when I miss you. I don't know what to do.

I lay in bed with writers block, loopy from the sleeping pills, thinking of the way our skin touched when we first met, a river of warm tears flowing my tear ducts, like having multiple warm hugs on my cheek, and I think about how you inspire me. I don't know what to do when you're my muse, except write about you.

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

© 2015 J.S.P.

Poetry's for all,
So may it come, too,
     From all.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

We may have forgotten
Some memories,
     But we cannot
          Unlove.*

© 2015 J.S.P.