Best Blowing Smoke Poems
We sit alone in the shadows outside,
Blowing smoke rings in the dark;
Watching them rise and then divide,
The cherry just a glowing spark;
This is what living is all about,
I’m more happy now than I care to admit;
Talking, laughing, and hanging out,
Just sitting here with our cigarettes lit;
Blowing smoke rings towards the sky,
Your simple words tugging at my heart;
I lean on your shoulder with a satisfied sigh;
And watch as they slowly drift apart;
Doing all the things we shouldn’t do;
I liked being here alone with you,
Blowing Smoke rings in the dark...
Art Gallery. Museum. Parks. Zoo.
Cultural Events.
Glazed like raku pottery
In charcoal rainbows warbled all dark
On pidgeon necks
Like hell’s angels, dumbed,
Blowing smoke through your mind
In a haze of dreams
The city is made of a giant fractal wart
On a witch’s cheeks there’s blush.
Movies. Games. Bars. Clubs.
Cultural Events.
Maybe she’s singing a hymn
With forked tongue
The green fires burning gold and money
Into the skies pitch red
Flirting and skirting sale-priced
Fashion iconography. Architecture
Sophisticating the simple desires.
You’re lost.
Foreclosure. Lawsuit. Divorce.
Cultural Events.
Emblazoned with some valor
Flags of the dead days
Killed like a haiku short-lived
Plopped one by one
Your teeth fell.
Bankruptcy. Fired. Laid off.
Cultural Events.
Brightly darkly the shiny sheens
Of sweat they bubbled in blood red and iron
In that champagne of success
Guilt. Acne. Alcohol. Headache.
Cultural Events.
The feather dust flies and the smell of tar
Rubber in your face
We have drug solutions for your
Unhappiness.
Cancer. HIV. Vaccines. Death.
Cultural Events.
Beer gardens, beer babies, beer bellies,
Beds, homes, and wined babes
Pretty victims and voices they make
Cultural Events.
The city life careened my poetry
Towards those
Crazy wronged right fools
Still swimming the street in search
Furtive, arms afire just fighting
Firing, fleeing into those chains.
Claims. Refrains. Drowned Voices.
Cultural Events.
Stop pulling your mischievous high jinks - currently, the wind of change stinks
Winds of change are not always good - they can be grossly misunderstood
Winds of change are just blowing smoke - spouted by a deluded bloke
Don’t believe a word from Blog bullies and blowhards - they won't change their ways
PS encourages creativity – poets CAN post ten per day
I got fed up of snide little digs about people who write poop poems
I am not stuck for turds - I'm saving my witty words for my next book
Like any family, mine’s the same, they leave Mama with the dirty Chores.
You’d think with Trolls, and Dragons, and such… There’d be magic galore!
But I concede defeat at Pooper Scooping Time, my sons taught everyone well.
You’d think just once, they wouldn’t run away, with such a humongous bombshell.
The Witch next door is out of town; she usually uses it to fertilize her yard.
Her magic does it in a minute flat, but she’s not here, as my yard becomes marred.
She flew on vacation with the first snowfall; in spring she’ll help my backyard.
In the meantime it’s just little old me… It’s like cleaning out a yucky stockyard.
So I gave a shovel to a grouchy old Dragon, since he’s so big and does so much.
But I came back fricasseed and charbroiled, my shovel totally melted, as such.
I put on my fire retardant suit, and I gave him a special spot where he can unload.
Apparently he didn’t like that either, as I dug out from under a humongous load.
Finally, raking it all up, I ask the dragon, to make cinders of the yucky stuff.
Instead he laughed as he huffed and puffed, blowing smoke at me, in a huff.
I smelled kinda bad as I went to the house, getting a cart to fill to the brim.
I’ll admit, getting mad at a dragon was never a good idea, to originally begin.
But I was pissed, as it looked like rain, and my mind was beginning to spin.
I filled the cart to overflowing, then tied it to the sleeping dragon’s… butt end.
When he woke up, he flew half way up to the moon, spreading it on the wind.
Unfortunately it was me, my yard, and my house, that finally got it again.
Who knows where that darned old cart now lies, as he came flying back alone.
I had learned my lesson that it would never be wise to lose my temper again.
So as the rain began to wash my folly away, I looked up and kissed the rain.
Sometimes it’s prudent, to just relax, and get in touch with the elements again.
can you imagine my disappointment...I believed her
...she might of been the one...that one woman
that has eluded me my whole lifetime...but...
...she...she was...
she was just blowing smoke up my ass...
story of my life...it's just never right...so many frauds...
but her....well her I trusted...I was willing to try...but
well she did me wrong...
she did well with the Vaseline...
lubricated my ass clean...
but when she shoved
that PVC up my bum...
well...that I liked!
the smoke?
that was the problem it was too hot,
your suppose to let it cool...
she let it go when it was
still hotter than burning coals...
all my friends...well now they call me hot pants...
it's not funny...I had severe...burns to my hole...
every time I have to go...you can hear
me yelling...feels like the pipe in reverse,
exiting instead of entering...it burns...
it bleeds...
but what hurts the most...
what really upsets me...
...as long as I live I will never...
what hurts the most,
...she won't take my calls...
my ass has healed
and I'd like to see her again...
give the pipe another shot...
she said she liked me...
called me good looking, vibrant,
kind, generous, intelligent ,
witty...but she didn't mean it,
I guess...
she was just blowing smoke up my ass...
...yes please!
alone
in the dark
blowing smoke rings
AP: Honorable Mention 2022
I can't believe how much I've grown
From the little girl I've known
Who was very scared and shy
Hoping one day I could try
To find others who could be
Part of a community
I was in for quite a while
Showing all my unique style
And behaviors I possess
I just wanted to confess
I felt so lonely each day
Friends would never come my way
When they found out all my quirks
They became ignorant mean jerks
Just because I wouldn't do
Bad things others wanted me to
Like taking drugs to get a thrill
From a needle or a pill
Or drinking till you'd be sick
Isn't something I would pick
Blowing smoke into the air
From cigarettes, I didn't care
To join in any of these
I just wanted to be free
From all this insanity
Sex and partying was not
A part of my wholesome heart
Being myself I would keep
Knowing somewhere way down deep
Others were being harrassed
Being kicked out, it wont last
I'd rather be a geeky nerd
Than part of a stuck up herd
I will find true friends one day
Who wont abandon me and stray
We will have fun never ending
And the vibes we will be sending
To each other will be of
Accepting caring and love
let’s not get carried away
with my cache of failings
and unbless’ed idioscyncrasies
the brain mysterious,
untouchable
mazed, unreadable
the heart lethal,
more ingenious
blowing smoke, big guns
bang, bang
love
bang bang, love
I’ll cover your skin
like soft, warm
cashmere
kissing the inbetweens
moments of sweet seduction
hypnotised, I’ll take
your swelling soul in
bang, bang
love
I’m a gangsta,
Sweet Sin,
Love
is a libertine
Candide Diderot. ‘24
Sweet Sin. Love. Libertine.
Here someone goes again, blowing smoke out their pipe.
Just going with the flow, using a common stereotype.
Here's a black man, I wonder how many kids he has on child support.
If he's late to a meeting, he's always a day late and dollar short.
There is a Mexican outside the Home Depot store,
he must be illegally looking to do a gardening chore.
If you see one Mexican go into a house, I swear,
inside you'll find at least forty people living there.
What's that over there, yellow skin, yep Hong Kong.
Better hide your cat unless you want to say so long.
I bet he could build me a robot if he tries.
Yeah they are all real smart, them oval eyes.
I see a man with a turban on his head, my final doom.
Better start running away now, before he goes boom.
We know he's got to be a terrorist,
see if he's on the most wanted list.
Who else is out there that I can bash?
Oh yeah, what about the white trash.
That gosh dang redneck hillbilly.
His brain is small just like his willy.
Everything mentioned above must be true.
So you must decide, what are you going to do?
Say something back and even up the score?
Or decide that words aren't worth going to war?
I think that if we just walk and go our separate way,
then the one speaking it, will have nothing left to say.
It is not worth your time to get mad over what you heard.
At the end of the day, it is still nothing but a word.
Through the mist ...
vision blurred by the bias of our views
clouding our reason
unable to walk in another men's shoes.
Blinded by the fog ...
thoughts offered by signs in hand
daring others to cross
convinced we are right, our dissenters lost.
War is declared ...
the air thick with opinion.
Battles commence ...
destruction of all that is held dear.
Guns blowing smoke
Swords red hot metal forged
Wrapped in the rising haze of heat
Voices raised dirty the streets.
Nowhere in sight ... clear rationale
no time to hear; no effort to see.
Air, a toxic mist, release the inner pain that i feel
eyes blinded by tears - no more chances, my friend.
Through the mist ...
no one hears.
This our reality when ideas supersede our fellow beings.
Through the mist ...
I see no love - hate guised as ideas.
Oh if they could see through the mist...
That is us on both sides of the street.
18~12~2014
Maurice Yvonne
I need some time alone with my own thoughts
Cause it’s more artistic than Mona Lisa’s portrait,
Love has no secret, but we had our own
Good mourning to our love,
It’s haunting me at night,
It’s wanting me to fight
For you,
I’ve been throwing stones to a glass house,
And ask to fix it...
I’ve been blowing smoke...
I’m causing sickness and weakness
To a weakened heart,
It needs band-aids and stitches to fix the broken parts...
•••••
This winter, don’t get so cold on me, embrace my pain.
I’ll water your flower every summer...
jewelry and make up
give us glamor
cigaretts and smoke
drink and laughter
how distinguished we look
with ciggy in claws
blowing smoke into faces
waiting for applause
just for effect
you pucker and blow
and the other half of the smoke
comes out your nose
who care where it goes
in the air or in your clothes
what you smell like
you may never know
dressed to the nines
and doing just fine
running out of cigarettes
the last thing on your mind
(This is where you come in)
New Release,
Thin line,
Time descease,
Bright shine.
Ahead of the game,
Shown by evidence,
Professionals name,
Body filled; tense.
I'm clear of doubt,
Finally here,
All about,
The rippled sheer.
Unraveling down West,
Opening up; tall,
Best of the best,
If I can't walk, I'll crawl.
There's intense steam,
Blowing smoke,
Common ground; team,
Haters will hit;but choke.
Phrases by action,
My hand flow,
Stylistic traction,
High to low.
Artistic up front,
Surveying for you,
Messages to hunt,
Head of the crew.
Unwind to heal,
Natural mind at work,
Beauty to kneel,
Intentions to merk.
Parallel order,
Tinkering my brain,
Letter hoarder,
On paper to strain.
I shall generate,
The emphasis expectations,
Stirring up bate,
Hear my unique creations.
Whenever I hear someone say
I was always taught to believe
in myself and I can be and achieve
anything I want and put my mind to
The sky is the limit dare to dream
and don't let anyone else tell you otherwise
The 1st that springs to mind to me
Is that's all well and good if you wish
or choose to buy into that
But unfortunately in life cold hard reality
dictates that seldomly doesn't actually happen
Until you eventually wake up 1 day and figure
out for yourself sadly life don't work that way
That belongs and should be resigned to
the inside of a greeting card
With a footnote saying P.S
If everyone could be exactly what they
choose or wanted to be
Wouldn't life be great
Or are you rather suggesting some
people make the conscientious decision
To be viewed and treated as nothing more
less than worthless scum by other people
Now ask yourself who is smart and who
is dumb
Is it me or is it them
Or are you testing or is this a test of my intelligence
And did I pass because that to me
sounds like as if you are
blowing smoke up my backside
And that's ok and not a bare faced lie
so long as what you are asking me to
believe in is
That you are bonufid living proof stood
before my very eye's
Proving all your and everything you ever
dreamed of and aspired to become can
come true if you believe and try hard enough
So answer me this is this all you ever wanted
to be
Good enough for you but not for me I can
do so much better
Warlords love the crack cackling sound ...
faint vapors smelled worldwide,
when twine toking on the choking peace pipe
Lying lips huffing and puffing,
blowing smoke out the barrel rear end
Frontal sphincter holes
open and close ...
Pre-negotiated spoils fanning the wind
Rub two cancer sticks together,
to start a third global forest fire blazing
Twin Smoky Bear false witnesses,
like Pilate and Herod —
Duo hardcore sworn enemies
becoming so Maryjane best bud friends
Truth is a menthol breakdown,
a Kool summer breeze on a hot, Camel caravan night
Warning of mirage oasis whisperings
filling the Death Valley desert air with nuclear fright
Warlords love doing the iron lung Scorpion crawl,
passing the slim peace pipe inside of the toilet stall
Flushing nicotine hope down the porcelain drain;
huffing and puffing,
with covetous tar face delight
Singing with ember glee in the Inferno dire reign
Smoking jacket pleasure
fills talky polluted atmosphere
with syrupy cough pain
Paranoia beyond measure,
empties womb palpitating fear:
Tick tick puffer insane
Warlords love the milk poppy urn sound,
silent nods heard worldwide ...
when dumping vow ashes from the peace pipe
Truth is a menthol breakdown,
a Marlboro spring breeze on a cold, Salem witch night
Warning of hibernating pyre whisperings
filling the Negev autumn air with nuclear winter fright
Warlords love the crack cackling sound ...
vaporized air felt worldwide,
when chain toking on the cranium choking peace pipe
Lying lips huffing and puffing,
blowing idol smoke out the gunny shark rear end
Sphincter jaw Pinocchio nose
open and close ...
Fungi ‘shroom spittle spores make the sky darken
Warlords love the crystal meth blurb sound,
LSD plan heard dark web worldwide ...
Life-Stopping Detonations
be brimstone smoke coming from a broken peace pipe