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J Clinton Smith Poem
In her eyes from across the room
our glances make a spark,
the magic in our eyes, unmistakable.
Upon a brief exchange of chance, something more leads us away from who we are, to a
chemistry unspoken. The magic between us continues through the night as we softly
tear down the walls of inhibition. The booth cradles us through obscurity as the wine with
gentle sips warms our emotions. Time does not exist, enchanted minutes and hours
become eternities. Smiles and soft caresses of her arm, she lightly plays
with her hair...each touch sparks our souls and pull us closer to the truth. We are not
making it out of this perfect night untouched. To a small back room alone holding hands,
lovers stop abrupt. Slowly and passionately a gentle embrace lead slowly to
the light touch of lips. The moment engulfs the now with fervours magnitude.
The passion burns our shadows on the wall with volcanic lust, the paint
sweats like rain. The flowers bloom fills the room with sweet celestial heat as the love in our
hearts race to warm culmination. A perspirant palm print slams, leaving behind
the fingerprints of our flames. Trembling love exchanges with eyes agaze with no cares of
what's to come. The magic in our eyes at this moment would never come undone.
Copyright © J Clinton Smith | Year Posted 2010
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J Clinton Smith Poem
Relaxed
Graceful and free
Rays of sun glistening
Summers breeze rolling on the beach
Tranquil
Entry for Catie Lindsey's "traditional cinquain" contest
Copyright © J Clinton Smith | Year Posted 2011
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J Clinton Smith Poem
Earthquakes shift the crust
above and below the sea
beginning.....or end?
Copyright © J Clinton Smith | Year Posted 2010
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J Clinton Smith Poem
What to do when starting at 1
2 at a time now 3 is done
4 is fun yet 5 has come
and 6 is here should we've begun
Oh no now 7 could this be true
and 8 and 9 what to do
add a 1 and no more too
that makes 10 what a crew
Remember though when starting
at 1 that making the kids is part of the fun
So I warn you all when starting at 1
be responsible in your love with your daughters and sons
Copyright © J Clinton Smith | Year Posted 2010
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J Clinton Smith Poem
In the morning of the night
I looked to the light to find what was right
but all I found was left
being deft in the night.
I was not contrite with this inner fight
as I lied attempting to sleep but was slight.
The night’s fight was ripe with spite
as I was lost in the middle of my left and right.
Lines of site are veiled with obligatory inquiries
of yin or yang or black or white.
Should I disinvite the blight within to settle
the fight of left and right? Or make haste of left
even though it’s not right.
But the left was and is deft and is pulling the weight tonight.
The right is though, right…
but should I be left?
I have to be forthright as a knight by being right
but being left I am bereft in my plight.
Even now I write to find my right but can’t change the left.
Having left….could I ever be right?
Copyright © J Clinton Smith | Year Posted 2010
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J Clinton Smith Poem
Was tired of being lost
Now I’m found
Picked myself up
Off the ground
I’ve finally found the time
Inside my mind
To find the rhyme
And look at my priorities
One by one and
Line by line
My babies, I miss you
Your smiling faces
Are taking me
Places where
The chases never end
I’m sorry for the things
I’ve done
Not there to have the
Daily fun...
But, lesson one…
Be the MAN!!!
Copyright © J Clinton Smith | Year Posted 2010
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J Clinton Smith Poem
PREPERATION
OF
EXECUTED
MEASURES
Copyright © J Clinton Smith | Year Posted 2010
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J Clinton Smith Poem
The volcanic explosion
of creativity
lasts only as long as
the volcano itself.
Copyright © J Clinton Smith | Year Posted 2010
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J Clinton Smith Poem
"You here?"
"Will...?"
"Never on time....man" "He's going to
win this case just because of these pictures"...He begins to look through the photos.
The private eye cracks a smile and begins to hum
Spaceman...by the Killers
"Of all the songs to get stuck in my head while waiting"
"The stupid song's been stuck in my head for what feels like a
year." (stands up and appears to be getting apprehensive) "I should win a freaking
award for the amount of work i'm putting into this case"
"I can't take the waiting anymore." (He begins to pace and dials his phone)
"Will? ugh, voicemail"
"So, where are you? I can't take waiting here much more, GET HERE!"(hangs up the phone)
"You tell people to be on time and they
haven't the respect for how busy I really am."
The setting is a bleak dark alley, a place where
love is replaced by pain, where the light
of day barely penetrates.
Humanity is replaced by brutality in these cold, dark alleys of the city.
For a moment our character looks to the sky between the buildings and sees a strange light.
It seems to stop flying for a moment,
"Get outta here, is that??"
Off in the distance the light (which was small at first), begins to be getting brighter and closer.
"My GOD, is that a
spaceship?" A blinding beam suddenly brightens the alley way and our character is gone.
Copyright © J Clinton Smith | Year Posted 2010
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J Clinton Smith Poem
Beauty was in the eye of the beholder, I told her and I was the shoulder for
her to lean on.
Yet she would accuse me of lies and this ripped into the ties of all that made
us one.
Her incessant chides took my pride and all that was me was left behind.
Seven tenacious years my pleas of please and tears and sighs were all just tossed aside.
Now it is I who has drawn the line, tired of this prolonged ride.
The eyes of the beholder and the shoulder she leaned on are all but gone, tied to the I
instead of eye.
Copyright © J Clinton Smith | Year Posted 2010
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