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Best Poems Written by Jim Skinner

Below are the all-time best Jim Skinner poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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The Pirates Life

He stands upon the salty,slippery deck,
Yelling yaargh matey ,
with a halfhearted pirate drawl.
He's not to impressed with himself,
not an eyepatch or wooden leg,
not even a hooked claw.
The parrot on his shoulder,
is a wannabee,
a sparrow that fell from the Crowsnest, 
from high up above.
It has no quips ,or spikes,
or pirate quotes,
just nesting on his shoulder 
with birdly kind of love.
Aye captain the crew responds,
snapping to their chores.
Tend the wheel ,lash the mainsail,
take the soundings
 less we hit a reef.
The sea going life is not for every man,
walking the plank,storms and rickets.
Crabs in your knickers ,
really give you grief.
Aah but when the wind fills the sails to bursting,
yards of canvas strain to be free.
And the ropes play ,sea going music
of a tension melody.
A song that captures
every young buccaneers heart ,
and soul and fancy.
For the music of the wanderers life,
an endless expanse of blue,
bravehearts and fearless men find,
quite a bit too chancy.
Black Beard,Yellow Beard,
the famous Captain Blood,
were all fearless pirates of their day.
He truly knows that he can be,
a great one too.
If he could ever find that bleeping map,
and escape this landlocked bay.

Copyright © Jim Skinner | Year Posted 2007



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A Tomboy At Heart

She's just beautiful,her outfit is of the latest style,
hair is perfect not a one out of place.
Long maniured nails ,done in a salon,
down to the makeup ,perfect on her face.
I groan inside,another meal out,
i'll have to take out a second mortage to afford.
Another night on the town ,a mall shopping spree,
donating blood untill I'm 100 ,please help me Lord.
Hey lets do something fun tonight.............
Then......then theres this girl,cute
she's a tomboy ay heart.
What do you want to do tonight,anything,
anything at all,a movie,fishing,something kinda fun.
We could go to the ballgame in our teams colors,
grab some fries and a hotdog on a bun
Wearing a beat up old ballcap,hair in a pony,
faded bluejeans,and her favorite good luck shirt.
She has a lithe spirit,that come easy smile,
someone to tease with no feelings hurt.
No long fancy dresses.or high dollar  gowns,
sleeping apperal  simple, just  my old beat up tee.
Waking in the morn ,her hair all a mess,
green eyes still sleepy ,true beauty I do see.
Give me forever ,a girl 
who is a tomboy at heart.

Copyright © Jim Skinner | Year Posted 2007

Details | Jim Skinner Poem

A Whisper

With the softest voice ,she speaks.
A simple caress implied.
My mind races with thoughts ,of exctassy,
vision blurred,I tried.
Shadows of glimpses,caught ,
some how, not heard.
The pure pleasure ,
the pain,
of the mere, spoken word.
Time hinges,on a thought,percieved
Whispers of the Love recieved.
Solid now in form and feel,
the word is a bond,
I know is real.
The heart given ,as it speaks,
a Whisper,
the soul yet seeks.

Copyright © Jim Skinner | Year Posted 2009

Details | Jim Skinner Poem

The Purest Music

One fine day as I was traversing the green,
in the last throes of Autumns'  twilight.
I sat upon a flat stone,
overlooking a trilling brook,
to ponder the meaning of life.
As I sat ,and thought,
the soft chimes of music,
from the water spirits,
lulled me into a dream state.
Some where in  that liquid crystal,
stubborn stones are worn smooth,
by the passage of time.
Elsewhere the fluidous mercury,
rushes toward a cleft ,
a water fall.
Bringing forth melodies,
never to be reproduced ,
by mere human hands.
As my lids grow heavy,
I'm awakened by the flash of silver,
denizens ,  
silhouetted by the last rays of the setting sun..
With regret its time to leave,
as I turn to go ,
a misty rainbow is captured ,
by the fading beams of light.
I smile, at peace,
the promise ,
the sun will once again ,
eclipse the horizon.

Copyright © Jim Skinner | Year Posted 2007

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Stars In a Night Sky

The Goliath reaches deep underground,
grabbing a hand full of coal
Crushing the black rock in his huge maw,
polishing it to gleaming diamonds.
Flinging the treasure into the ebon sky.
So at night we can look heavenward,
and enjoy  a million stars
 in a midnight sky.

Copyright © Jim Skinner | Year Posted 2007



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The Only Answer

I have searched and read and plodded,
through books and places and time.
Blindly searching for the answers, 
to this feeling which is mine
I would travel unto the ends of the earth,
in places most perilous and dire.
Herein lies the question,
of this burning fire.
So I sat and donned my thinking cap,
to figure out  this riddle ,
no fear of the cost.
For you see if I cannot 
my sanity ,
surely will be lost
 In my mind I've pondered this ,
over and over again,
Probably at least a million times,
honestly no more than  ten.
I was thinking about the longing,
ache and loneliness,
when at my minds door ,
my heart ,
it did knock.
Non sense ,
I am sure with reason 
this mystery to unlock.
At once my heart broke down the door
betwixt it and my mind.
Listen to me just this once,
not your thoughts at all this time.
Then the answer came shining, clear 
from far up above.
The answer all so hard to figure out,
was simply  it was Love

Copyright © Jim Skinner | Year Posted 2007

Details | Jim Skinner Poem

Emerald Eyes

There was something uncanny about her eyes
With just one look, 
she could freeze the breath in his chest
The smallest glance,
could bewitch his very soul
The slightest touch,
would set his skin aflame
A brush of her lips,
could surely capture his heart
If just one tear fell from those emerald eyes
his world would shatter

Copyright © Jim Skinner | Year Posted 2006

Details | Jim Skinner Poem

She

She's dreaming.....
her hair in tangles ,
and all astrew on her pillow ,
frame the face of a sleeping angel.
I could sit and watch forever,
the rise and fall of her chest
with the intake of each sweet breath.
She awakes.....
her eyes show the promise ,
of a thousand shared ,
unseen sunsets.
The light of a smile that dances in those eyes
are a haven,
 from a long wearily-traveled road.
Her skin brushes mine,
 and a fire shoots through my being.
If it be fire, 
then I would gladly burn in this inferno,
for just one touch of her skin .
Our lips meet, and the world stops.....
for a time there is nothing else,
but this moment and this reality
The world ceases to be ,
and the only important thing
is this moment, 
right here, right now.
I awake,
and a dagger twists deep inside,
for someone else holds the lock,
 to this world.
Try as I can and wish as I might,
I cannot find the key to her heart

Copyright © Jim Skinner | Year Posted 2006

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The Path I Choose

As I was walking down lifes ' road one bright and sunny morn.
I espied up ahead in the crossroads a  black haired  beauty,
her dark locks blowing in the warm breeze.
There was a bewitching smile playing about her lips
and green eyes you could get hopelessly,happily,lost in.
I took up her hand because it  seemed what I was born to do.
With that touch as our fingers entwined
my question was answered, yes this is home and where I belong.
We walked along for a while, enjoying the day and each others company.
As of a sudden,dark clouds gathered on the horizon,
the winds howled,thunder exploded and lightening streaked the sky.
Fear crept into the light of those eyes,and a single tear.
Gently I took her into my arms and held her close.
For you see this is what I was meant to do.
I held her tight until the storm clouds passed 
and the sky once again turned vibrant blue.
Once again we walked down lifes' road  and presently,
came to a fork one road to two.
Reluctantly I let go her hand,and started down my path
and she hers.
Stopping and turning I held out my hand.......
Come take my hand,take a chance.
Our paths are one,there are no lights ,signs,obstacles or pot holes.
For this road leads straight to my heart.

Copyright © Jim Skinner | Year Posted 2007

Details | Jim Skinner Poem

One Quiet Evening

I glance at the frosted pane,
the sun gives up its reign,
surrendering to the night
A cozy fire burns in the hearth,
wood smoked mixed with the smell of dinner,
my turn to cook.
She's late, the glass is dark
warm light from the candles
create a magical effect.
She'll be tired,
and surprised,
not expecting a romantic dinner.
A glance at the clock on the wall,
must be traffic holding her up.
Lights brighten the window for a flash,
a car door slams,
the heavy trod of weary feet.
The door opens,
and there she stands,
then that smile,
that makes my heart  skip a beat.
Then tears brim in those green eyes
telling me,
I did something right,
on that one quiet night.

Copyright © Jim Skinner | Year Posted 2008

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