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Best Jiril Clemons Poems

Below are the all-time best Jiril Clemons poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Details | Jiril Clemons Poem |

IQ Test

I could care less about the four 
corners of insults, 
That intelligence invites; 
It is always the first straw of 
grass that’s grows, 
which reveals the popular outcast; 
As a youth, I found my image cut down 
into this manufactured silhouette.

Drenched in social rain, my peers 
had never found me more alienated, 
Then when I spoke fluently of diverse 
topics; 
They did everything in their power to provide 
a verbal umbrella, 
However, the texture remains weak and 
defeated.

This stormy parade that remains’ dripping is
indeed an afterthought, 
For within this cranial mansion resides 
additional rooms, 
For the more abstract and surreal 
elements of life; 
It is that secluded gland which reveals 
the renaissance of men, who wear 
infinite Fedoras.

Now wearing the shoes of a young 
man, 
A taste of charisma resides in my 
veins; 
However this slight addiction to external 
haze, 
Comes in second to my first drug of 
choice: Wisdom. 

Membership into this fraternity may take a lifetime; 
So don’t be surprised when resistance 
knocks at your door, 
Intimidated by the lion that dwells within 
your temple; 
Indeed intellect is the misunderstood 
fruit, 
That blossoms sweeter when accepted.

Copyright © Jiril Clemons | Year Posted 2013

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Bullying 101

Step 1: 
Inhale an envious mask upon your castrated 
skull, 
and prompt this necessary illusion to commence.
Bathe yourself in ego-filled waters till you feel superior
to the gavel, and exit without caution from this perfect 
prison called home. 
The audience of youthful flattery awaits you, and those 
who you hunt, 
Anticipate your roar, and contemplate a permanent 
departure. 

Step 2: 
Masquerade around the elementary wheels of 
transportation, and make sure your crown has no opposition.
Be seated in the rear levels of mischief, and target those
who sit angelically, in frontal silence. 
Remember to grin until your devilish smile has a 
pathological glow, 
And act without tears, your greatest show without
showing. 

Step 3: 
Be ignorant to punctual chimes that sing, and lean on 
absent temptation for comfort. 
Show patience for the perfectly weak; allow them their 
steps upon the wax floors, 
Give them their fairy tale of safety. 
For they are dreamers, and you are their scheduled 
nightmare. 

Step 4: 
Enter classrooms initially through the minds of prey. 
Let them introduce the beast without forethought, 
Observe their careful whispers among the intellectual
flock, 
And standby till their guard sleeps. 

Lastly, steal the eyes of misery from your contemporaries
as you walk in, and sit among the walls of miseducation. 
For knowledge is not the vocation you seek. 
Only the beauty of suffering can compensate your lust. 
Step 5:
Begin by insulting the eager minds that roam 
brilliantly in the front row. 
Shout high praises from hell, belittle their flawless 
answers, 
And bear no breaks of mercy until tears fall. 

Now shift your heinous gears toward the everlasting 
prom queen, your unrequited distraction. 
She does not lean towards you, therefore you must 
harm her pedestal as well. 
Do not hesitate to disarm this glow that will never 
infiltrate your surroundings. 

Step 6:
Confirm that your motions are approved, by the 
council of expulsion, 
And give them infamous leeway to imitate in your
rare absence. 

Step 7: 
Reminisce joyfully over sin that will never turn pure, 
as you return home. 
Remove the wool from your eyes, and follow sorrow 
till it wants no hint of you any longer, 
A similar thought entertained by parents you forever 
know.  

Lastly, if you urge beyond repair, and accept that the 
sheep you threaten everyday will never turn, 
Despite your purpose, 
Then feel free to act as those that previously harmed, 
And contemplate a permanent departure. 
May god bless these faithful carriers of misery. 

Copyright © Jiril Clemons | Year Posted 2014

Details | Jiril Clemons Poem |

Tomorrow's Signature

Yesterday sent its regards in a farewell
letter, 
A gesture of fate intact, sealed for the 
departed,
Or better yet, the progressive harmonies
of God, such as we are. 

It was perhaps the plot of the universe, 
When we slept in yesterday’s hands, 
And I asked you the question of 
continuation, 
In hopes of fading away mutually, after one
last bloom. 

Heaven must have spied on my everlasting 
request, 
Because with your pearl vision directed 
towards me, 
And your soft veil of ebony near me, 
You agreed, with no hold of hesitation. 

So under the chapel’s protection is where 
we coast now, 
And a road less traveled is scattered with 
our footprints;
While I did lead with company, along this aisle 
of anticipation, 
The stares of 1000 miles did not present themselves, 
Until your walk was introduced, thereby polishing 
this floor into glory. 

As I stood in the patience of joy, a distance was 
illustrated between us, 
You pressed forward and this negative space lost
its existence; 
As you approached with the tranquil touch of 
summer, 
My nerves fell sober, and I knew that which was 
parallel before me was art, 
The speechless beauty, I favored in sight. 

The preacher spoke a traditional verse, as our 
eyes locked in perfect reflection; 
Declared through spoken word, was the 
confirmation of our ribbon in the sky, 
Crowned upon your precious finger was the 
weight of symbolism, 
Silently glowing through the everglades; 
With no restriction, we explored the middle 
ground in unison.

We exited through the heart of the sun, cherishing
the unfamiliar heat; 
It appears that life’s divine notary has signed off 
on the greatest equation ever solved, 
May our souls forever write in this blessed ink.  

Copyright © Jiril Clemons | Year Posted 2013

Details | Jiril Clemons Poem |

Every Seed Grows

In this field of plantation; 
Where I walk and plant various 
parts of myself around this 
world; 
I sometimes look back and notice 
the trail; 
I recognize the lettuce of charity
I’ve grown constantly through the 
years, 
the tomatoes of kindness which 
resonates red to the world, 
For as the blood flows within my 
temple, 
Kindness will always be found 
here; 
Also my celery of respect remains 
long, 
And continues growing as much as I 
do; 
And yet for all these positive elements 
I’ve learned to express to my 
environment; 
Occasionally I plant a bad seed which 
poison’s the essence of my entire
being; 
And for that, I apologize. 

Although a perfectionist in small doses I 
am not perfect, 
And as a result my garden of Eden
contains more infamous fruit then I 
would want, 
Stemming from lack of growth in my 
maturity plant; 
While a few of any negative offspring 
have cultivated, 
None have been more consistent in growth 
than my deception seed.

Unfortunately as I’ve grown into 
adulthood, 
So has my subconscious lying, 
Sadly after a while you don’t even 
realize that it still sleeps in your 
field, 
And as a human constantly harvesting 
you learn to accept it; 
However evolution never grows 
old, 
And even a perfect saint contains a 
lifetime of imperfect downfalls, 
So while I’m familiar with deception, 
It is those virtuous seeds that grow 
within me, 
That are parallel with my height 
and with that, I’m content.  

God never asked for our field to be 
perfect, 
But to show progression, 
So that it could display many of lives 
lessons, 
And as my life continues adding up, 
I can promise the world that my 
dark seeds subtract simultaneously; 
But yet I understand we’re all human, 
And we must reap what we 
sow, 
Therefore I’m hoping that my seeds of 
empowerment in the form of black eyed 
peas, fall into my neighbors field, 
Thereby enriching their lives for yet another 
season. 

Copyright © Jiril Clemons | Year Posted 2013

Details | Jiril Clemons Poem |

HER

“H” represents the humility she 
displayed from the moment she 
opened her eyes; 
“E” would suggest a revision of 
evolution, 
Because it would take many stories and 
infinite lifetimes to explain the beauty 
of her essence; 
And “R” would ask for a human replica 
of her, 
For many men should admire such as I 
do. 


Modern Shakespeare’s should pay
close attention, 
For her personality writes poetry 
itself, 
And yet the pen remains in my 
hand, 
To describe beauty in third person. 


My cold and nonchalant heart has never 
asked for another summer to warm up too, 
Unless purposeful reasons for an appeal of the 
heart were discovered, 
And yes! 
These reasons always spelt out 
her name. 


As in life which contains both success 
and failure, 
I’ll risk it all, in hope’s for mutual 
affection; 
I’d serenade time if it meant I could 
spend more in her serenity; 
Forget the ridicule and episodes of embarrassment, 
The only thing on television tonight is the 
heartfelt expression of a peacock, 
Waiting to display his romantic feathers to the 
archetype woman; 
Today and forever; 
I’ll dedicate to her. 

Copyright © Jiril Clemons | Year Posted 2013

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As Time Went By - So Did We

Seconds:
If there was a second I didn't think about you
God himself would have to point it out
Because this sample of heaven is 24/7
As the minutes tick on since you been gone
I sit and think on all the things I did wrong 
Every second I ask myself two things: why and where
why didn't I realize what I had harmed
and where for the club, I was there instead of with you in my arms

Minutes:
For every minute I spent with you I remembered
like when we first met in September
The minutes that we slow danced together
Are energies collided and warmed my heart despite the cold weather
Every minute with you I was on cloud nine
There was no question, I was yours and you were mine
It was through those minutes, sixty-seconds was expanded
With you it gave the affection I had so long demanded

Hours:
I will dedicate the hours to what is present
For it is through the hours of thinking that I learned my lesson
The hours since we've been apart
They have pushed and pulled on my heart
Through the hours I remember what once was
How this simple lust could have been love
For every hour, my lips mouth the four syllables of your name
Even if time froze, I would still do the same
Money can't compare to what love can bring in a lifetime
Who wants to be a millionaire?
I was once one, but I didn't need three lifelines
All I needed was you to see me through
My rough days and longest nights
With you, darkness came to the light

In conclusion, to every second, minute, and hour I write to, Know that I still think of you.

Copyright © Jiril Clemons | Year Posted 2013

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More Of The Night

I feen for the calm, docile placed fire, 
The ex in extra before an exit starts, 
The urge to add dark, sultry desires, 
An encore for vibrant, unsettled hearts. 
I yearn for a jury’s continuance, 
The exposed touch of Eve’s verbs repeated, 
the safe flow of spirits, live tenderness, 
I’m jealous of the crave undefeated. 
But there is no end kept at this doorstep, 
There is only the feint death of memory, 
and while we may write love, and then forget,
We are the melted cry of symmetry. 
       Now there is unfamiliar morning that seeks, 
       And passion on hold, for dual minds to keep. 

Copyright © Jiril Clemons | Year Posted 2016

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How I Met Your Mother

Kids,
I once vacationed in the company of silence,
It was an unconscious scene bestowed upon
me;
Although I had a calling that answered my 
purpose, 
A myth of joy existed outside this career, 
I was left drowning in limbo, without an 
excuse; 
But there was a witness, who studied my trail 
without cause, 
And without apprehension, she helped to resurrect the 
the location of destiny; 
Allow me to reminisce on such. 

For it was in a previous portrait, that I encountered 
a dozen roses; 
Of these that I held, there were none that exceeded 
a brief touch,
A momentary scent that never returns; 
Now understand with this expression, it is not a
boast I intend to create, 
For I was seeking that gentle grip, in hopes of it never 
departing;
I continued a cold failure, never realizing the warmth of 
victory that smiled ahead. 

I settled on the peak of solitude, as my faith passed
away in obscurity, 
And yet, beyond these frozen eyes, there existed a 
narration of fate, waiting for my company; 
For you see kids, I’ve walked past the casual frame 
of your mother, 
And misplaced my sight, I’ve missed her spirit by 
petty inches, 
And when there was a vision of opportunity, my space
was occupied with trivial games. 

Then one day, I discovered a possession that linked 
heaven and earth forever, 
An umbrella your mother left abandoned; 
And yet, it was through her innocent misfortune, 
That I discovered her abstract songs, played upon
by the perfect key, 
Her heart that sits in prosperity, from the charity of 
deeds, 
A collection of beauty, your mother gracefully 
owns; 
By the time we crossed into cupid’s lair, I knew 
already, the verses of duality were written true, 
And with that, the perfect stranger discarded her 
title, 
Leading Renee into popularity; 
Hello became the endless quote, we spoiled into 
memory. 

As the task of life left this page briefly open, 
I responded with a mutual exit, confirming these 
lips of joy, 
And with revelations of challenge forever slayed,  
I peacefully fell, forever breathless. 

Copyright © Jiril Clemons | Year Posted 2014

Details | Jiril Clemons Poem |

Tangible Dreams

In the midst of darkness descending 
above me, 
Stillness seems to overtake sound, 
Allowing moments for deep thought 
in this mirror of solitude.

I tend to reminisce on those dreams I 
grab from the photogenic events of 
the past.

Once touched, I’m taken back by the 
moments that can’t be replaced. 

So during this moment of tranquility; 
I pray no external force interrupts 
this, 
The calm waters in my mind. 

Lucky for me, it’s a reoccurring dream; 
And as vivid as these fantasies are, 
None compare to the peaceful illusions 
of family gatherings. 

It was only yesterday, when I illustrated thoughts 
of a child, 
Always curious of that deep ocean floor, 
Where familiar kin paint their residence ; 
I was an eyewitness to many overlooked 
areas within my family’s ocean. 

Yet with many pieces missing as a result of 
loved ones ascending to a higher cause, 
This puzzle remains incomplete until that 
last tomorrow.

However in these possible moments 
of delusion; 
I’m a child again touching the fabric 
of my influential past.

As I continue this unforgettable daydream,
I ask again for no interruption; 
For with every reminiscent moment, 
I know of myself better and what I 
could be in a tangible future. 

Copyright © Jiril Clemons | Year Posted 2013

Details | Jiril Clemons Poem |

Immortal Footsteps

As a child learning to walk, I 
discovered stumbling, 
And now as an upright adult, 
I sometimes count back my previous 
steps, like the baby steps in your 
direction; 
Subconsciously, my feet always walk in 
the direction of attraction, 
And obviously spotted a winner in 
you; 
However this steady pace misread the 
time limit of your romance, 
And second place is where my feet currently 
reside;

Although a religious woman, you don’t see 
the Adam and Eve complex between us, 
Rather you underestimate my advancement 
for mere friendship, 
And at best the status of a brother; 
I realize that your soul is blind, 
And these glasses of mine would 
fit perfectly, 
But you’d rather continuously wear 
unhealthy contact lenses; 
For this reason, my passion for walking has 
come to a halt; 

I sometimes reminisce on those last five steps 
I took, 
With every inch of courage, to eliminate the 
friendzone between us, 
And yet I’ll never recall the exact value of 
footsteps post-defeat, 
Which have remained immortal over the 
years;
Friendship: such a two-faced gift, 
Heaven and Hell in one blessing. 

Copyright © Jiril Clemons | Year Posted 2013

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