Best Cigarettes Poems
Where are my old white corsets
Right next to your candy cigarettes
Hey! We didn't get today's edition of 'Grit'
It's canceled. They use bad words now like 'Guck' and 'Spit'
Oh, and I can't seem to find my orange Pez dispenser
I threw it out. They've proved that Pez causes cancer
By the way, have you seen the Sunday funnies
They're a no-go, ever since they canceled 'Pogo'
You know I've got two tickets for the Brooklyn Dodgers
Ha, ha, ha! Even Sandy Koufax is just an old codger
Then I'm going cruising in my new Studebaker
--with that benchwarmer from the Minneapolis Lakers?
Before I forget, don't throw away my bottle of royal blue ink
Ball point pens been around since '38, sister, even in pink
So you shan't think me old-fashioned, I just bought a brand-new TV!
-Yeah, a nine-inch black-and-white with vacuum tubes that smile at me
But I paid for it with five million Wheaties box tops!
That's crazy... I think I'll start collecting used lemon drops...
Two cigarettes and a beer, dear
That's how long I'll be here
If you never show
Then I'm gonna go
After two cigarettes and a beer.
You know I'm not big on forgivin’
And not much for talkin’ things through
But if you’ll swing on by
I'll give it a try
Though I don't think I'll hear nothin’ new
Baby I've heard your last reason
For standin’ me up like you do
You think it's all right
If I'm waitin’ all night
And that's why I'm just givin’ you
Two cigarettes and a beer, dear
That's how long I'll be here
If you never show
Then I'm gonna go
After two cigarettes and a beer.
Cigarettes are gross.
They can really kill you too
Dead. Gone. Forever
c ancer waiting to happen
i nhaling all kinds of carcinogens
g etting unhealthy lungs and high blood pressure
a lways have breath like an ashtray
r eally not the price to pay
e verybody hates your smell of smoke
t ar in the lungs is no joke
t asting cigarettes in a mouth is so gross
e ven your kids hate the smell
s o quit smoking your life away
DEATH WISH HAIKU (AS Musical History of Cigarettes)
L.S.M.F.T.
Snooky Lanson sang it clear
smoke in every ear.
From your Hit Parade,
Frank Sinatra blew the words one time
Didn't Fence Him In.
Dorothy Collin's voice
America there's only one to smoke
Lucky Strike's the one.
Drifting up her nose
pulling smoke into her lung
biting on her tongue
what is she doing?
coffins closing in with nails
death as slow as snails.
Do you want a Lucky?
More satisfaction pleasure
undertakers measure.
Camel smoke was nil
More Doctors smoked Lucky Strikes
Than Mike Hammer smoked.
Nicotine all day
tie hers up in Christmas bows
blow it out her nose.
Free on Navy ships
Sailors never saw the light
Though the match was free.
The first time i picked up a cigarette I told you and you fought me
because you said they were wrong,
After that i steered clear of them afraid of what would happen if i touched
them again, afraid of what rage you would put over me.
You were right though they were wrong, but you were worse,
You took over many lands that i owned and stripped me clean of freedom,
you tried taking the one good thing i had that made me feel innocent,
you held me down and took the covering off my body and whispered “trust
me”,
I stopped you before you went too far and you looked through me angrily,
angry that i didn’t let you, angry that you didn’t get what you wanted.
You tried over and over to get it,
and i fought every time to never let you get it,
You put me through mental hell and physical pain and hate,
after the constant rage and abuse i finally tried leaving,
you grabbed my wrists staring through me with pits from hell for eyes, and
you followed me home.
You stalked me and made me hate myself even more,
you blamed me for your mistakes, for everything you did
you left demons under my skin,
i can’t look in a mirror anymore without seeing “worthless” written on my
forehead.
The demons live in my head now and they’re never leaving,
they are stuck there, drowning me from the inside out.
I smoke cigarettes and drink a lot now too,
hoping if you ever came back you would not come near me since cigarettes are
wrong.
I was addicted to the taste of cigarette smoke and lies,
and the way your eyes matched the pattern of the stars at midnight.
But I was to drugged by your words to remember that poisonous beasts have the most colorful eyes.
They told me it wasn't love, but when I thought I was alone, you muffled my drunken cries.
It wasn't love but I still wrote you a book, pages telling how you set me on fire without a light,
but you took it and tore out the pages and off my clothes, kissing my skin with razor sharp lies.
You told me that I was the kind of song you wanted to memorize,
a song where the drum synced with the beat of your heart just right.
You told me I was pretty enough to be a picture, but the flash of the camera always hurt my eyes.
He swore that he would turn my blood into alcohol and my reflection into someone I didn't recognize,
I wanted out of my skin so bad, I didn't scream when he ripped it apart, to numb to even fight.
Then he took a paint brush to my body, painting me into a masterpiece, singing me sweet lies.
I fell in love with a boy that threw me off a cliff, screaming 'Lets see if she flies'.
And I fell willingly, while shooting his love into my veins, his drugs that faded my world to white.
Cigarettes and Loose Change
by Edmund Siejka
On a late afternoon
There was a stillness
When nothing seemed to move.
Listless and sort of down
I knew a bar
Squeezed in between non- descript buildings.
Hesitating I stood outside
Searching the gray lifeless windows
When the bar’s neon light
Beckoned.
Behind the dark oak bar
She was taking inventory
Fingers lightly
Touching each bottle of
Bottom shelf
Bar brands
Behind me on the walls
Were photos of the old time fighters
From the time before I was born
I ordered the house Bourbon
Grimacing, I felt it burning down.
Then I asked
Last time we spoke
You said you might be heading out?
I was she said
Still leaving?
She answered,
Maybe.
It could be any day now.
I quietly sipped my drink
At the far end of the bar
Shadows moved
Narrow eyes
Pretending not to see.
Leaning forward she whispered
The owner lets them
Hang out in the back
Smoking cigarettes and carrying on
They’re OK
But take my advice
Don’t leave any loose change on the bar.
Staring into her eyes
I found himself
Wishing that I knew more of her
There was something about the way she moved
That made me forget where I was.
Soon, I only had
A few crumpled bills
Left in my jeans
Leaving a tip on the bar
I pushed my stool back
The scraping sound
Made her turn around
Her hazel eyes meeting mine
And for a solitary heart beat
We were one.
Suddenly there was the sound of broken glass
Angrily she went to the back
Alone, I knew the moment
We had
Was somehow taken away from me
And I didn’t have the courage
To convince a pretty girl to stay.
Thoughts of you
Like a cigarette to me
Addictive and consuming
But cancerous
In every way
Yet I'd still go down
In your flame
Hennessy
when I digest
and Heavy Metal
when I listen
and Fake Eyelashes
when I am seen
and Cigarettes
when I am not seen
This Martian was as mean as it gets
He ran out of Martian cigarettes.
He landed his spaceship on earth,
At a highway rest stop near Perth,
and found plenty by trailing the pets.
© Mar 13 2010
Placed 3rd in "Out of This World Limerick contest"
rolling cigarettes
listless in the summer breeze
trickle of crimson
Had a dream last night, you could say it was wet
Fell headlong in a pool while playing the clarinet
Kept playing underwater
Received much applausers
Got out, and in my pocket was some soggy cigarettes
© Jack Ellison 2015
It's cold, the lights are out
the roof is leaking
but I sit here with a cigarette in my mouth
a glass of whisky in my hand
and a rope around my neck.
Of Cigarettes And Non Smokers Blues
The smoker, he smokes incessantly, breathing out smoke like a dragon afire...
As I observed, it played in my mind, it's good thing one smart alec has long retired..
For having come up with the eternal phrase that there's no smoke without fire...
Happily do I concur, he undoubtedly was picturing a smoker in particular..
The smoker , he holds his cigarette between his fingers, whitened ash at its end..
As I observed, he brings it up to his lips, a red glow flickered like a sleight of the hand..
No, there is no fire, just merely a reddish glow that flared up at the end of his cigarette…
Even as the fiery glow flares its brightest, only a little wispy smoke curls upwards…
The smoker, he casually lowers his cigarette, his thumb lightly brushed the smoker’s end…
As I observed, with that little deft flick from his thumb, whitish ash dropped off the other end..
The reddish glow that flared momentarily ago, dulled in intensity even as new ashes formed..
Wispy trails of whitish smoke continue upwards ceaselessly while the glowing cigarette burned…
The smoker, he releases his smoke, thick streams of secondary smoke vented through his nose..
As I observed, this pall of dense smoke released , enveloped the smoker but slowly dissipated..
Makes me wonder, given the wide publicity blitz perpetually in the various mass media…,
How breathing in and expelling cigarette smoke makes for precious time to pass a little easier…
The smoker, he turned and walked off, little knowing he has unwittingly been an objective study..
As I observed, in the smoker’s bliss he was in, what he doesn’t know is part of his smoker’s bliss..
Watching the silhouette fading into the distance, involuntarily I shrugged my shoulders…
Thinking to myself, to this day , some real smart alec did correctly observe, To Each His Own..,