Ashtray Poems - Poems about Ashtray

as if I didn't know it was you after all this time becoming nothing inside of me I'm tired of carrying your leftovers sabotaging my victories you who saddened my planets look up there the missiles strolling already looking for people like us look there among your memories there must be something that justifies us a damn happy breakfast after absence two or three tears and an ashtray...

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This was a sports arena once considered better than good. At least, it was located in a better neighborhood. It's where the Phillies and Eagles would play. From 1971 to 2003, the teams would stay. The place reminded me of a big concrete ashtray. Times changed for this famed sports venue. In early 2004, Veterans Stadium had to bid adieu. The Phillies...

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There's an old ashtray in the middle of the room, half filled with ashes and half filled with gloom. A reminder of things burning away, like a mind filled with memories, too many to stay. It's sitting next to an old photo book, frozen inside are the smiles that were took. Pictures of Summer's youth and naive trust, now sitting still and...

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White and orange, Poorly glazed. A moment forever, Sealed in clay. It was my gift to you, For nervous fingers. It you've long forgotten, With me its presence lingers....

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I finish my day with a nicotine high, and I find myself staring at the stars in the sky, thinking of him, thinking of the ghosts, of lips together and waves on the coast. Wet rocks and liqueur shots, driving fast, avoiding the cops. Every flick of my lighter is a memory, and every stump...

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I wanna make love to you until your crotch turns blue. Just climb up and enjoy the view. It's a natural urge and I'm on the verge of losing my patience. They say you gotta take your time, spend a dime before dropping a rhyme, oh, **** I've been there. It's all just a well devised scheme, a traditional theme you must align with. Since the very...

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This world is our molten ashtray, Revolving life, its stained glass grey ...

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the burning of lost hope the stentch of problems the flavor of tasteless bubblegum without sugar taste less the stabbing and torture on the breathe of ones lungs the colored of teeth that they paint cells that will never recharge the life of an empty hole, burning through the ashes of society no imagination just the urges of wanting and needing the stress that...

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the burning of lost hope the stentch of problems the flavor of tasteless bubblegum without sugar taste less the stabbing and torture on the breathe of ones lungs the colored of teeth that they paint cells that will never recharge the life of an empty hole, burning through the ashes of society no imagination just the urges of wanting and needing the stress that...

Continue reading...

the burning of lost hope the stentch of problems the flavor of tasteless bubblegum without sugar taste less the stabbing and torture on the breathe of ones lungs the colored of teeth that they paint cells that will never recharge the life of an empty hole, burning through the ashes of society no imagination just the urges of wanting and needing the stress that...

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i stared at the ashtray a trapdoor design silent huffs and puffs the haze, unseen, unfeeling the bricks, mocking, urging the dead fire still crackling, popping in my ears the ashtray wants me. My soul it smelt the dark mascara pressed its ears against my rattling chains my dark cloths only inviting its gaze "touch me, taste me, and i shall be yours." the wind briskly...

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(a love poem for my son) Dreams spill out of sleep sift across the hardwood floor covers the window in colors of May slamming me back towards childhood or perhaps just to the ashtray. One forged with labor in elementary school ceramics; patient fingers size up, roll the earthen clay, pinch it to perfection, this unusable object is made with skill, crafted uniquely for my father. A tribute greater...

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