Poetry 1




Of A Spiritual Nature
(Part 1)

Oft, I've slung the hammer myself
With only a thought, glitter'd by fools
Who continue to cast out idol wealth,
Using my mind as th' destroying tool.

The faith residing o' elastic roots
As water, shall seek its own level,
For a swaying tree, so sway'th the fruit
And mature waves, cometh not by pebbles.

Please forgive me in that I ride
And guide me toward a desolate trail
Where society's perfum'd gyves don't abide;
From within me, God abreast, I prevail.


Footprints From The Stars

Anticipations, dreams dancing into their birthright,
Of things due and that which I should,
A child's toy, a man's appetite;
Shatter an aggressive mold, where hearts stood.

She's of simplicity, sweet showers of touch,
I throw my eyes across her face in shame,
And a voice, oh what a voice.....as such;
Who am I as I search to proclaim.

The perfume of happiness and candlelight smiles,
She changed my words not of one spoke,
Between worlds carry unforgettable styles,
A man trapped, so old to choke.

She acknowledged me, angels begin to play,
From seesaws to baseball and finally a home,
A time of remembrance, a time went astray,
On a romantic shelf, "Christine" writes the tome.

My Mum

A time when I only looked up,
A large woman, spoon in hand
Stuffing my face, oops, drops the cup,
Repeated kisses were my reprimand!

At night she held me close,
As she read silly books,
Then cough syrup with a small dose
At last sleep, which I gladly partook.

I need bubble gum very bad
So she dumps her ragged purse,
Pennies fall as I continue to grab,
From a wrinkled face, the tears traverse.

I've finally grown into a man,
She says "I've got one foot in the grave,"
Never made her part of my plan,
Dad and me didn't see her as a slave.

It has come again, "Mother's Day"
And dad is no longer around
Unto God, I must convey,
"A Still Small Voice," was the only sound.


Romancing The Passion

The heat toiled and my body took a swing,
She was stunning, a guest in bloom,
From the heavens, folow the offspring
And my heart, entertaining old costumes.

I wonder if I could be the one,
I've counted the mirrors and won the eyes,
Yet her heart's content, I of oblivion;
I know the children chase the butterflies.

As I reload and prepare to sleep,
I pray to God as I pray to thee,
Passing a distant corner, my passion peeps
A touch from "Sybilla," an amorous recipe!



Someone Mentioned "Lori"

And all of man's greatness has untold
God, but we shall peak the highest way
And have not an anchor's diet in mold
For we are the champions of coming days.

So it was in these times I came upon an
Amorous drift and bound my soul to keep
In the park, a rose did I plan,
To bury my heart, under life said we meet.

And Lori, the special magic out of love
A society in a showery spin can't bring
It out of you; for you weren't that of
Manufactured, but belong to the heavenly king.

When I look into your eyes, I go places
For a love wind slips out of them, shy
And I've lived faces,
In yours shall I stay alive.


Unto Great Failures, Not Them, But Myself

A furlough hadst many with young eyes wonder
In intersections o' redolent shadows captured blind
Sayest thy dreams fell asunder
'Gainst vapid roles lead this e'er climb.

The rain I emptied did sit out to display
Shatter'd hopes left on a peeling bedroom wall
Wouldst a flower grow sprinkled by fays,
That have been put in imaginations, only ripped dolls.

The foible hadst grown with sun tan leaves
And there driving to th' verge of a searching mirage,
'Twill cometh and so shalt the heart feed
In pits wherest dreams hadst lodged.

Say where does that leave thee for direction,
The mind still runs fast unto thee out to play,
Time gladly said free-without perfection,
'Tis I or it seems like scratched table and clay.

Thou knowest Lucifer rents th' most apartments,
Defeat may'st not claim a harbinger of thy perdition,
Wouldst you have two carrying the diadem just sent?
Love and orison shall give thee fruitful attention.

And benisons, prithee whilst turn defeat to e'er strength
For merchants of merchants hath found the key,
Filial devotion makest thy growth to clench,
That which depicts my faith and love, be it God, the life of me.


Of A Spiritual Nature
(Part II)

Again Beelzebub hadst takenth the proscenium at laugh,
For the percept wonderth at th' world
To findeth a hope, then twisted in a moribound path,
Finally slaves and being constantly hurl'd.

Dear heaven that lies before my eyes,
I pray that my aberrant sight taketh not pits
That won't separate me fro' thy glorious side,
Where you and I would playeth and sit.

Your're the welkin that rest above my head
During stygian walks left in man,
So I kneel and findeth where it bled;
Pure hearts washed of worldly hands.

The gamin found 'bout many to survive
Shall be ascetic no more o' a fee,
Because thou are sacred seeds and beautiful replies,
Gifts us, God for eternity.

"I Love You."


A Love Story From Japan
(The Search For Hiroko)

Smiles tickled the wind sent from afar,
Oceans upon oceans with words at sail,
Little boys throw at falling stars,
A huge man, such a small scale.

A beautiful face and playful sky,
She speaks of politics and love,
Pampered wishes, angels sing a lullaby
And wings rest from a flight above.

See mommy, see mommy do,
Who's there to comfort me,
They left before I grew,
An early happiness--no guarantee!

Hiroko, live and love is yours,
So my search ends,
My small gift promises amour,
Words above, in truth, I've penned!


Scratched Table and Clay

Who am I, I'd like to know?
Does God really exist?
Be who the power to bestow?
Should this worthless life persist?

Why am I here?
What is wrong and right?
For my soul, who's the auctioneer?
Each question draws more fright!

People hurt me, now the pain
I wish they would stop,
Better to love than enchain,
Does peace have a workshop?

Questions, questions, questions, none,
I'm not of scratched table and clay;
A miracle, at birth it begun
Through compassion, comes endless holidays!


---PB Jones