Soft Kisses: A Book of Poetry

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SOFT KISSESA Book of Poetry byChristopher 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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3 Nervous I Feel Today4 The Heat Outside5 Fires to the North

6 In My Mind7 Little Girl8 Thinking of My Friend9 Sitting on the Floor10 Soft Kisses11 Getting Ready12 Watching Her13 Thinking Back14 Drifting In a Canoe

15 Confusion Sets In16 Fractured Moments17 Tired18 The Cold Rain19 Summer Concerts20 Moving On21 To the Far East22 Driving Home23 Led Down a Path24 In a Stage Of Old

25 Lost In the Pools26 Facing My Week27 About the Author


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Nervous I Feel Today

nervous I feel todayit just won't seem to go awayI sit here and ponderat all I have to doall that is expected of meand I sweatmy arms acheand my back gets tenseso I sigh

but todayit does nothingto ease my frayed nervesthe chords being wornever so thin


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The Heat Outside

the heat outsideis seeping ineating away at my artificial coolmy cavemy bubblemy safe placeI sit here in the darkand wonder at the brightness out therewhat is going onwho are those people out there?


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Fires to the North

fires to the norththeir smoke has come inand laid a strangle holdover the valleythat I live withinall the alleys and streets are dark with its sootthe people all indoorsto lessen the hurton their lungsas they try to breathe

like meexasperatedat another hurdle to clearthis morning


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In My Mind

in my mindyou sitlooking prettyand smartcapable of all you doin the most efficientof wayspride comes to mein all that you bringand never am I sad

at being a dadand having youin my life


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7

Little Girl

little girlwith the sandy blond hairrunning before mein such great excitementsuch wonder at the worldand all I have in meto teach herto shareand let her know

all that I have discovered beforenever mind it may beultimately trivialat that momentright then between usit is the most fascinating thingwe can think of


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Thinking of My Friend

thinking of my friendstrandedin the Midwestlost in the hellof country graciousnessand hospitalityI feel for herfor last time I was thereI fled running and screaming

to the biggest city I could findwhere the street peopleand weirdoswould shield me


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Sitting on the Floor

sitting on the floorwith my door openstaring out at the worldorange glow gets cast withinfrom the sun setting downacross the lake with the salty brinecool breeze blowsas the night time setsand I shiver right down to my bones

another nightof being alone

just me and my viewof the sublime


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Soft Kisses

soft kissesgivento test me and tempt meI understand at being hesitantwhen it comes to a mannever knowing what their true intent isbut I am harmlessI want only to be a friendthe kissing and love making

perhaps makes it cloudyharder to discernbetween the beads of sweatdripping between us


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Getting Ready

getting readyto venture outand see what the worldis all aboutsee what I have been missingwhat is inwhat might be now coolyet the sun is brighthurts my eyeseven with my shades

so Ill stay insidehere will I hidefor I really don't careor give a chagrin


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Watching Her

watching heron the screengyrate aroundlooking tough and meanshe seems too sweetto be doing such thingsit feels forcedcontrivedI do think she's feeling itwith in

if you're going do itgo full boreshow the worldyou can be a whore


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Thinking Back

thinking back

at all I have undonewhat was I doing?why didn't I stop?not really a regret

just a ponderingof the crazy actionsI takeand the crazy placesI end up

if only I would have thoughtfirst


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14

Drifting In a Canoe

drifting in a canoe

just me and youon a warm summer daythe clouds drift by usthey try to remind usthat we should be on our waybut instead we lingerloiter on the shoreyou flick water at me with your footI smile from the end of the boat

we watch as the sun lightturns from a bright blueto a reddish greenish


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Confusion Sets In

confusion sets in

when I think aheadit just makes no sense to meat allwhen all I can perceiveis what lays right herebefore me nowwhat am I to makeof this abstractnotion?


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Fractured Moments

fractured moments

to myselfcaught here and therewhen no one is lookingI lower my chin to my breastand restunknowing and unthinking

just lost in the vast expanseof the silenceand then a flurry of activity

people rush byI continue onsatisfied with no reason why


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Tired

tiredfrom a weekend of activityand I have barely reachedthe middle of my weekso much more to doafter thismy thoughts travel backto where we wereand the fun that we hadin our mischievous adventure

of life


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The Cold Rain

the cold rainhides my tearsat the thoughtof you not being nearso far awayat school all dayI won't get to see youuntil winter breakso I count the daysuntil that time next

when for you I makeI'll get to see youand give you a big hug


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Summer Concerts

summer concerts are finally coming to an endone last performance on the hill in the gardenthis time though I do not have my guardianmy little angel who keeps me companyfrom feeling to outside the crowdsmy little imp who gives me purposewho makes me feel so proudthis time I must go aloneI must try not to frownI must do my best

and play alongfor my little onewould want that in the end


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Moving On

moving onthrough the dinlooking to findwhat I have buried withinno one knows the sins Ive seenno one knows just where Ive beenyou're the one Ive come this far foryou're the one I did this formoving onpast the star

the northern one up high and farsailing the wavesto reach the endtacking hardas we go over the edgemoving onway too farcosmic journeystarts in our heartsclose your eyesand see withinfind me theregrinning my grin


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To the Far East

to the far eastgo my beatslaid downon my skinworn thinfrom all my worryingof how to finishwhat I have beganlaying quietthe hush of the moon

night time transpiresand I fall asleepdespiteall I mighttry to fight


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Driving Home

driving homenodding my headas I take the turnrounding outleveling outstepping on the pedalthrowing lots of dirtI can see the endand it looks mighty goodwill all the evils stop me

from reaching yourolling ontill I reach youhome at lastout of gasbut safe in the garagehomedoor closedno more space between us


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Led Down a Path

led down a pathovergrown and coveredby the long all elmsbranches hanging their green leaves downwe step after the old manmoving on ever more quickly aheaduntil we can no longer seethe brightly lit outside worldand our escape if we may need itthe old man he leads us

to the edge of the cliffto the hand strewn rockat the base of his canyonvirgin river flowing below usmilky white water bubbling upfrom the mineral spring ventshe leaves us therewith a waveand tells us to enjoy his poolswe have to wonderhow we stumbledonto this placealone and all oursfor the rest of the day


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In a Stage Of Old

sitting last night in a stage of oldwooden seats upholding the heavy weightof my ass and my egosurprisingly I did enjoy itand without any smattering of critiqueor foul word at the actorswho there spokemost pleased and enjoyingactually was it in its teasing


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Lost In the Pools

lost in the poolsmy eyes just above themslowly and silently movingthrough themheat turns to steamand makes my sins dissipatetan sand stone rock at my toesI have forgottenwhy it wasI came here for


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Facing My Week

moving onfacing my weekmy work aheadand it makes me feel meektoo tiredfrom all that has transpiredall I want to do is sleepdream away the dayand wake up refreshedready 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 inTucson, Arizona, he has been a survivor of mentalillness, specifically bi-polar disorder, for most of hislife. A graduate of New Mexico State University witha degree in Philosophy and Theater Arts, he hasspent over twenty five years contributing to thevarious performing arts groups in his community.His work has been described as "masturbating onthe worlds stage in verse" and "...exactly what is

wrong with the average white American male..."Christopher started writing after being introduced topoetry as a form of art therapy as a teenager andhas not stopped since. Aside from working withwords, he is a single father of one.

Having majored in technical theater and artsmanagement, Christopher has been active backstage since his childhood, mostly working in theareas of lighting and scenic design, sound design,

properties design, stage management andproducer.

To find out more about the author and his workvisit www.jonesing.com

His novel, WATERBOARDED, isnow available through Chipmunka Publishing:

http://chipmunkapublishing.co.uk/shop/index.php?main_page=product_info&products_id=1708

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Soft Kisses: A Book of Poetry