Warren Augustus de Guzman

It was only a kiss.
It was only a kiss
I woke up to this morning.
It was only a kiss.
...

And so I write on my pages today
A list of things that I might say
Of lessons in life, love, change and dismay
A couple of months and a few days away
...

Don’t you dare tell me you didn’t feel it,
The sparks from our first kiss,
It lasted for a lifetime and ended too soon.
...

Soft fluffy cookies of different shapes and sizes
Fun and Happy Samples full of big Surprises.

Chocolate Chip Treats, Creamy and Chewy
...

A swig of ale for the good old boys,
Who play non-stop with old men’s toys,
Stay up all night not to read or write,
But to woo the girls or scare up a fight.
...

Should you leave,
Take the memories with you,
For they will haunt me
Till my dying day.
...

Standing on a wobbly chair
Reaching for something out of reach
By just the smallest of margins
A little less or a little more than an inch
...

How wonderful it is to be reminded constantly
Of the possibility of you and the possibility of me

The morning dew on the fresh cut grass outside
...

Nothing is as sweet as a lover's first kiss.
Not the chocolate on Christmas day.
Not the fresh grapes of harvest day.
Not the cream on apple pie.
...

A walk in a park full of wide open spaces
of wide blue skies and bright happy faces,
I sat there with you.
And you sat with me.
...

I miss you.
Like the flowers miss the morning dew.
Like the night sky miss the dawn's blue.
Like the desert sands miss November rain.
...

Careening through the universe
Upon my steed of rhyme and verse
A wretched poet’s fated curse
O such a state, there is non worse
...

I called just now… just to say
Just to say… what I have to say
I hope you don’t think me rude
For calling at this time, for being such a prude
...

Tottering on the edge of oblivion
A cliff over a pool of infinite thought
To jump would be to embrace it
The possibility of infinity
...

Tomorrow is fast approaching.
with every minute disappearing,
and every second dissipating.
we are left anticipating,
...

She sat at the far end of the room, decked in pink
Her eyes directed at the floor, her face locked in a contemplative smile
And with a sudden, graceful twist of her head,
Punctuated by the soft bounce in her hair as she swung around,
...

I got lost in the infinity of her eyes.
A vision one could never despise.
She held me, and I held back.
...

The melancholy has left me.
My sole inspiration to write.
What now of my pain poetry?
In which all my sadness takes flight.
...

Wretched and putrid, it made its way across the alley,
Straight into a pile of synthetic filth and human garbage,
And as I continued on my way
It popped its head out and stared directly into my eyes.
...

So, so long have I thought of this day,
Upon which you’d grace me with your presence.
On such an occasion I would not
Be caught with nothing witty to say.
...