Pair of Jeans and Corduroys

the earth defanged itself to see you grow and
grow and stretch the fringes of a body now too old;

you see, what you do, make things so complicated
highways upside down, kids where kids should never
play; treetops mongering, arms stretched
towards the sky: tremulous, wavering
their hands in torrents—stellar and plutonic

orbiting their fingers through the mesh which
comets our horizons; for ours it is indeed
and mine to disentangle and demystify!

I like it when you bite your lips, like that,
yeah. Just like that; as if the whole world should
turn crimson from the loveliness of you:

wild seraphs on their shoulders, molten on the
surface which dictates our soldiers; swords and
spears. as if the hands which crafted, pyroclastic
to the appetites, to the appetites of modern songs;
"let us make man in our image", and so, you were born

and the earth defanged itself to see you grow and
grow and stretch the fringes of a body now too old;

you see, what you do, make things so complicated
swathes of grasslands, tropical rainforest,
the thought of you driving down the road,
can't get myself some slumber, not even
a new pair of jeans or corduroys?

I like it, when you bite your lips like that,
yeah. Just like that. I also like them
when they're awful quiet; could kiss them

all day long. As if the whole world should
turn crimson from the loveliness of you:
even as they leave or, smile and turn back

and the earth defanged itself to see you grow and
grow. and I sat there, next to you, pair of jeans
and corduroys.

The Wild Turn

This, is the fair undertow;
our modern form of love,
the carrier which carries to be
sold in spring! and stranger
than a stranger; undiscernibly
alloyed, harnessed by the clutches
our ancestors tarnished—
pulling tartars out of fiery storms;
incinerated in the wrath of hedonistic love!
and if frenzied in uproar or whispered in chants:
that is conversation! the true vow which language has to give,
history and science all at once, the origin of origins,
love at its best, sex on its kind. The wild syntax;
the calligraphy of lust, incendiary, diction or
enjambment, the turn of winter as this fire
ebbs away; and then, there’s you. anchored
on the shores, eyes clenched to meet our glance,
but we see none, though we feel it, flammable,
burning inside our chests ready to burst,
ashes to ashes, dust to dust, and this
is the fair undertow, our modern
form of love, the wild syntax of
your voice howling, singing in
my dreams; as though no
other Man can sing; as
though no other rain
in torrents, rapping
at the windowsill,
eyes clenched to meet your glance, but I see none
though I feel it, burning inside my chest ready to burst,
ashes to ashes.
and dust
to dust.

Calling Out Your Name

Terrible and Spartan
and sublime; the night
in which the taper lost
its sight

of looks on looks a brightness
which illuminates no more;
a moonlight that in plain
futurity forlorn.

and ghastly as the senses
for a setting of the sun,
disorienting in the gazes
for the man without his
lover's fulgent chime.

and this is the light which
breaks in half; the blinding foliage of night.
the plenitude of love escaping its own fire.

fire this is me, fire here we are;
hinged to an ember which yet seems to linger,
pulling stars out of distant starry corners,
breaking dawns which a hundred mornings whispered
and I whisper back for you.

one would think
that, by calling out your name;
for an answer the slumbered eye'd awake,
but reality in night of nights of twilight,
of looks on looks a brightness
that illuminates no more.

and this is the light which
breaks in half; the blinding foliage of night.
the plenitude of love escaping its own fire.

Juan David Romero is currently a sophomore working towards his Bachelor of Arts degree in English and a minor in Film Cinema Studies at the University of Central Florida in Orlando, Florida. He was born in Colombia, Manizales and immigrated to the United States when he was twelve. Most recently his poems have appeared in the Young Poets Network's Imagined Lives Poetry Challenge, 20×20 magazine Issue 7 in London and The Shine Journal Poetry Award 2009. He was a Commended Foyle Young Poet in 2009. He blogs at http://juandavidpoetry.wordpress.com/.