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.


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Running Hot It Has Been Awhile A Bitter Sweet Treat Such is All Things Summer’s End Cold Rain Routine My Quiet Space Torment Hot Sticky Humid After Work I Have Met You Again Nervous At Our Meeting Rules Missing You Today Behaving Badly Room Full of Bodies Lost Turning Angels The Cold Night Crying So Loud Deep Low Rumbling Staring Up Into Space Again Clouds on the Horizon About the Author


Running Hot

running hot with fevered brow sweat drips from my eyes to my lips and you happen to step in through that door that leads to outside with the hot wind and sun tan skin and hair pulled back in a pony tail of fun caught me with my jaw dropped and all you do is smile for we both know in this miserable situation that dirty thoughts are our only salvation


It Has Been Awhile

it has been awhile my fingers have grown cold my heart laments but my regrets do not propel me to write today instead I just sit and ponder my fate the world around me and all that makes me hesitate softly and quietly and I let the world just drift past me no more worried than I was a moment before


A Bitter Sweet Treat

a bitter sweet treat is all I needed to calm my nerves and change my whole general attitude I’ll just sit here and lick my lips and marvel at the little things that fix us


Such is All Things

such is all things to come to an end and make me sad I am glad though that we had this time and worked through to the end of the line to we could say we had this to share and nothing will ever take that away


Summer’s End

summer's end has come and now I must take your hand and lead you home to your mother and cat friends and school so we can be apart as the weather cools sit sadly and stare at the photos in our books and remember when it was warm we had fun just two kooks lost in green leaves on the mountain side laughing and smiling for once


Cold Rain

cold rain falling outside but I’m watching it from safe inside where its warm and I have tons to do so I pause for only a minute to watch the torrent ensue I love to see it rain I do



back to the routine the normal of my day having left you back there so far away it has only been a very short time and already I miss you these thoughts of you undo my smile but seem to make it all worth while to trudge on and make my way back to you


My Quiet Space

back to my solitude my quiet space just me typing away furiously with no time to spare I have left the comforts of family behind it is time for the releasing of my mind



torment it is all I do to myself each day all day through torture myself with all the guilt I can muster shameful transgressions such filth


Hot Sticky Humid

hot sticky humid the air around me is muck my skin sticks to everything the ac is on and I don't feel a thing I swear that the cold air disappears before it reaches here this miserable place where I sit


After Work

just thinking of a beer being poured ever so slowly deep dark and brown like a beer should be cold waiting just for me only thirty minutes more of work and I’ll be free to head to the pub and meet that drink that is taunting me


I Have Met You Again

big black man I have met you again with that big thick dick in your hand why you look at me that way? why do you motion me your way? what is it that you want with my skinny white ass? so okay I’ll stop with the coy you know that I’ll be your slutty boy toy


Nervous At Our Meeting

nervous at our meeting that will be coming in a few unprepared I am for all that we must do so I will sit back and watch the spectacle as it unfolds keeping my words in check my breath low my seat towards the door there really isn't much I can do more



rigid stiff I find the rules you made about just laying unused unheeded forgotten to all but the few the few that worshipped at your feet before you sent us all away


Missing You Today

missing you today on the porch outside my door sitting while the sun sets throwing its warm gaze over the valley floor the place where you and I used to sit and watch now it is just me with the memories of you and I the us of when we are together


Behaving Badly

behaving badly giving in to sin given up to temptation I let go and forgot the key to salvation staying true to you trying to be this person who you believe I am it’s not easy


Room Full of Bodies

room full of bodies greeted me as I opened the door hot sticky and smelling altogether of men I felt sad for them all a room with no love just groping nothing more and all of them wanting some sense of familiar touch in this sea of strangers



lost I am tonight staring at pictures of the past times and places I will never be but can romanticize and wonder at ideal always in my mind easier to comprehend than the cruelty that exists now in man


Turning Angels

turning angels to divert the eye emphasis the corner that particular spot where I will die what is it with the shadows today long on the ground creeping and taunting me in every way is it some foreboding of my madness or one of my nightmares come to truth in the light of day


The Cold Night

the cold night sneaks up on me to catch me unawares leaving me shivering on the bench outside my door too stubborn to go in with the heat and comfort of the blanket laying in arm’s reach within instead I shake as I raise my fingers place that cigarette to my mouth and draw in that evil yellow smoke


Crying So Loud

crying so loud my voice I do love you no one hears me I do not care I yell it anyway just to chase my personal demons away admitting the obvious keeps them at bay but I only do it when no one else can see my chants or hear the unholy words I must say


Deep Low Rumbling

deep low rumbling abrasive in a chord a quiet pause then a massive swell cascading of horns galloping faster straight at me I drop to me knees cover my face and wait for the orchestra to over take me


Staring Up Into Space Again

staring up into space again everyone asking what is it see they stop and get into the same position same line of sight look upwards as I do trying to see if I see god or something that is all I can think that they must think I see for they never seem to comprehend a person simply deep in concentration


Clouds on the Horizon

clouds on the horizon blocking the sun’s red din its ember glow fading now over the mountains in the west and as darkness comes I think of you and I smile for you make it all worth while you make it a wonderful world to be your father in my child


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 world’s 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

His novel, WATERBOARDED, is now available through Chipmunka Publishing: main_page=product_info&products_id=1708


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