SOFT KISSES

A Book of Poetry by Christopher L. Jones All rights reserved. All material contained in this manuscript is copyright 2011. Cover image by the author. www.jonesing.com

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Nervous I Feel Today The Heat Outside Fires to the North In My Mind Little Girl Thinking of My Friend Sitting on the Floor Soft Kisses Getting Ready Watching Her Thinking Back Drifting In a Canoe Confusion Sets In Fractured Moments Tired The Cold Rain Summer Concerts Moving On To the Far East Driving Home Led Down a Path In a Stage Of Old Lost In the Pools Facing My Week About the Author

Nervous I Feel Today

nervous I feel today it just won't seem to go away I sit here and ponder at all I have to do all that is expected of me and I sweat my arms ache and my back gets tense so I sigh but today it does nothing to ease my frayed nerves the chords being worn ever so thin

The Heat Outside

the heat outside is seeping in eating away at my artificial cool my cave my bubble my safe place I sit here in the dark and wonder at the brightness out there what is going on who are those people out there?

Fires to the North

fires to the north their smoke has come in and laid a strangle hold over the valley that I live within all the alleys and streets are dark with its soot the people all indoors to lessen the hurt on their lungs as they try to breathe like me exasperated at another hurdle to clear this morning

In My Mind

in my mind you sit looking pretty and smart capable of all you do in the most efficient of ways pride comes to me in all that you bring and never am I sad at being a dad and having you in my life

Little Girl

little girl with the sandy blond hair running before me in such great excitement such wonder at the world and all I have in me to teach her to share and let her know all that I have discovered before never mind it may be ultimately trivial at that moment right then between us it is the most fascinating thing we can think of

Thinking of My Friend

thinking of my friend stranded in the Midwest lost in the hell of country graciousness and hospitality I feel for her for last time I was there I fled running and screaming to the biggest city I could find where the street people and weirdos would shield me

Sitting on the Floor

sitting on the floor with my door open staring out at the world orange glow gets cast within from the sun setting down across the lake with the salty brine cool breeze blows as the night time sets and I shiver right down to my bones another night of being alone just me and my view of the sublime

Soft Kisses

soft kisses given to test me and tempt me I understand at being hesitant when it comes to a man never knowing what their true intent is but I am harmless I want only to be a friend the kissing and love making perhaps makes it cloudy harder to discern between the beads of sweat dripping between us

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Getting Ready

getting ready to venture out and see what the world is all about see what I have been missing what is in what might be now cool yet the sun is bright hurts my eyes even with my shades so Ill stay inside here will I hide for I really don't care or give a chagrin

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Watching Her

watching her on the screen gyrate around looking tough and mean she seems too sweet to be doing such things it feels forced contrived I do think she's feeling it with in if you're going do it go full bore show the world you can be a whore

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Thinking Back

thinking back at all I have undone what was I doing? why didn't I stop? not really a regret just a pondering of the crazy actions I take and the crazy places I end up if only I would have thought first

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Drifting In a Canoe

drifting in a canoe just me and you on a warm summer day the clouds drift by us they try to remind us that we should be on our way but instead we linger loiter on the shore you flick water at me with your foot I smile from the end of the boat we watch as the sun light turns from a bright blue to a reddish greenish

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Confusion Sets In

confusion sets in when I think ahead it just makes no sense to me at all when all I can perceive is what lays right here before me now what am I to make of this abstract notion?

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Fractured Moments

fractured moments to myself caught here and there when no one is looking I lower my chin to my breast and rest unknowing and unthinking just lost in the vast expanse of the silence and then a flurry of activity people rush by I continue on satisfied with no reason why

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Tired

tired from a weekend of activity and I have barely reached the middle of my week so much more to do after this my thoughts travel back to where we were and the fun that we had in our mischievous adventure of life

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The Cold Rain

the cold rain hides my tears at the thought of you not being near so far away at school all day I won't get to see you until winter break so I count the days until that time next when for you I make I'll get to see you and give you a big hug

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Summer Concerts

summer concerts are finally coming to an end one last performance on the hill in the garden this time though I do not have my guardian my little angel who keeps me company from feeling to outside the crowds my little imp who gives me purpose who makes me feel so proud this time I must go alone I must try not to frown I must do my best and play along for my little one would want that in the end

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Moving On

moving on through the din looking to find what I have buried within no one knows the sins Ive seen no one knows just where Ive been you're the one Ive come this far for you're the one I did this for moving on past the star the northern one up high and far sailing the waves to reach the end tacking hard as we go over the edge moving on way too far cosmic journey starts in our hearts close your eyes and see within find me there grinning my grin

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To the Far East

to the far east go my beats laid down on my skin worn thin from all my worrying of how to finish what I have began laying quiet the hush of the moon night time transpires and I fall asleep despite all I might try to fight

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Driving Home

driving home nodding my head as I take the turn rounding out leveling out stepping on the pedal throwing lots of dirt I can see the end and it looks mighty good will all the evils stop me from reaching you rolling on till I reach you home at last out of gas but safe in the garage home door closed no more space between us

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Led Down a Path

led down a path overgrown and covered by the long all elms branches hanging their green leaves down we step after the old man moving on ever more quickly ahead until we can no longer see the brightly lit outside world and our escape if we may need it the old man he leads us to the edge of the cliff to the hand strewn rock at the base of his canyon virgin river flowing below us milky white water bubbling up from the mineral spring vents he leaves us there with a wave and tells us to enjoy his pools we have to wonder how we stumbled onto this place alone and all ours for the rest of the day

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In a Stage Of Old

sitting last night in a stage of old wooden seats upholding the heavy weight of my ass and my ego surprisingly I did enjoy it and without any smattering of critique or foul word at the actors who there spoke most pleased and enjoying actually was it in its teasing

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Lost In the Pools

lost in the pools my eyes just above them slowly and silently moving through them heat turns to steam and makes my sins dissipate tan sand stone rock at my toes I have forgotten why it was I came here for

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Facing My Week

moving on facing my week my work ahead and it makes me feel meek too tired from all that has transpired all I want to do is sleep dream away the day and wake up refreshed ready to face all that the night brings us

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About the Author

Christopher L. Jones is an author, poet and artist living in Salt Lake City, Utah, USA. Originally born in Tucson, Arizona, he has been a survivor of mental illness, specifically bi-polar disorder, for most of his life. A graduate of New Mexico State University with a degree in Philosophy and Theater Arts, he has spent over twenty five years contributing to the various performing arts groups in his community. His work has been described as "masturbating on the worlds stage in verse" and "...exactly what is wrong with the average white American male..." Christopher started writing after being introduced to poetry as a form of art therapy as a teenager and has not stopped since. Aside from working with words, he is a single father of one. Having majored in technical theater and arts management, Christopher has been active back stage since his childhood, mostly working in the areas of lighting and scenic design, sound design, properties design, stage management and producer. To find out more about the author and his work visit www.jonesing.com

His novel, WATERBOARDED, is now available through Chipmunka Publishing: http://chipmunkapublishing.co.uk/shop/index.php? main_page=product_info&products_id=1708

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