FRICTION 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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3 Asking Me to do the Impossible 4 Unfocused 5 Tired I Am 6 A Day Off 7 Uncertainty 8 Sequences in Step 9 Nerves 10 Another Day but in a Different Way 11 So Many Ways to Save this Day 12 Friction 13 Somber Morning with a Cool Breeze 14 Standing on the Beach 15 Dark Brown Hair 16 The Hottie with the Body 17 Venom 18 Full 19 It Never Fails 20 Thinking Back 21 Forgotten to Shave 22 A Week of Wondering 23 Twilight is Fleeting 24 Working with Words 25 Thumb on my Guitar 26 Little Girl 27 About the Author

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Asking Me to do the Impossible asking me to do the impossible each and every time makes me as tired as a double nickel on a dime and makes me feel un-flattered at best used abused taken advantage of I do not so easily give out love I have had enough of all the refusals

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Unfocused unfocused without intent throwing gravel at the foot of the bed hurts my feet to walk so I stay by the side of the room and just stare at you in my bed unmoving asleep maybe even dead the gravel scatters across the floor I hear you sigh so I throw some more

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Tired I Am tired I am of looking at your photos my longing has transpired and you have not arrived so I am to take it that you have no desire no intent to invest just a side glance of timid amusement a brevity of scornful mirth or is it just that you are unsure afraid to risk afraid to put it on the line to come to terms a meeting of minds I wonder this as time moves on and the cold wind between us grows strong

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A Day Off a day off in my schedule this week has me missing keys on the keyboard so flustered I can not type such a way to start my day nay to start my week hungry, broke and in discord desperate just to make it back home and alone

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Uncertainty so much uncertainty lays ahead of me and it has made me pause stop completely on the path scratch my head and just look forward I can see nothing but darkness and misty fog

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Sequences in Step sequences in step one at a time moving through life with nothing on my mind thoughtless just moving doing what I’m told getting from Point A to Point B with the littlest bumps in the road

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Nerves nerves are solid and ready built twitching with new energies found from deny my ills my addictions and tendencies that run me to the grave I have given them up at least for today for awhile I will play it straight get some of my life done no longer will I hesitate

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Another Day but in a Different Way another day but in a different way for the one I love is with me for the summer at least I shall have peace knowing my little one is with me just a stone throw's away I’ll get to see her today after work and before we go to sleep

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So Many Ways to Save this Day so many ways to save this day and instead I have thrown it all away it never fails that when the chips fall I cash in whether I win is all in the cards for really I care not I only want to end the game

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Friction friction tension it never goes away it sticks around all day waiting in rest to grind away at me when I least expect it need it or want it I battle it with a sigh a deep breath of constant regret

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Somber Morning with a Cool Breeze somber morning with a cool breeze you clutch my hand as we walk past the trees leaves blowing at our feet to meet us as we greet the other children here to start a day of play and learning an expanding of our minds

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Standing on the Beach standing on the beach playing in the sand just being a dad with my kid when I see at the break where it meets the street a tanned blond in bikini and cowboy hat working her way out to me she is far enough away that I can check her out and think of a million nefarious thoughts as she approaches we both grinned upon meeting perhaps the same thing we are both thinking for later my friendship did she add

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Dark Brown Hair dark brown hair just passed me by threw me a glance and a soft smile I tossed back a wave a slight hello not knowing where or how this will all go

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The Hottie with the Body the hottie with the body just slapped my ass and I had to gasp for it has been a long while since anyone paid me any attention let alone let go and over come their apprehension at being rejected by me

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Venom venom spit at me from that coiled serpent I call me ex-wife nothing changes save for the space I put between us that is why I ran I grew tired of being with a bitch and I had done so my whole life now the bites hurt less often but still as much

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Full I have been filled with such energy and emotion that I have lost all my ability to think clearly and can see only red draped over everything a bleak curtain that stains my world and too mad and frustrated I am to part this veil and move on to the next room

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It Never Fails it never fails I meet a girl who plays my friend and in the end it always gets sexual I just can't escape it is it me or my vibe or the simple fact that they can not to say I mind

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Thinking Back thinking back on it all I see all the gaps the bad judgment my complete disregard why is it like that? looking backward we see clearly or is it just based on the perceived consequences that we befall? perhaps that is why I face straight ahead knowingly turning my back on it all

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Forgotten to Shave forgotten to shave hairy face dirty tastes of sin it is time to chop this forest

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A Week of Wondering a week of wondering at what could be and what isn't has left me tired and focused on the here the what makes up my now the labors before me and the trails I must blaze before I can hang my weary head down to rest I have done my best and now I only wish to drift away

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Twilight is Fleeting twilight is fleeting when I am sleeping I seem to watch the days turn into nights and then repeat again and again rolling disturbed in black sheets heat of the summer wafts in from the window at my side the sweat pours down as I try to hide so much effort just to bide my time sleeping

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Working on Words working on words constantly to the extreme dreaming of them passing me etched out on the street scribbled on the walls of the buildings I pass written on the napkin at the bar under my glass I see them everywhere and can not help but to read them

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Thumb on my Guitar thumb on my guitar waiting to strum watching the drum beat and lull me into its hypnotic trance allowing me to be free soulless an empty shell to let the spirits in to move my hand to play their song through me I let them

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Little Girl little girl curled up in my lap sad at her life and all the mishaps I stroke your long blond hair and tell you not to care worries are only fleeting and in the end we are both still here to comfort each other and to share a little air time will tell where we end up after here but in the mean time my little one we have nothing to fear

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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 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 production

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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