Best Lighters Poems
No it's not anything you may be thinking of
it's in fact a very unknown thing because
you see I have a friend Nick
and he felt a little sick
and he grew tired of organized crime
so I tried to break him out of his mind
to set him on a lighter course
although it took alot of force
he got out of his old ways
he still went back to those days
Nick Never Craze (yes, that is his real name)
Held his old ways (everything stayed the same)
so I wrote this for him
Never back down he said
I can't be normal again
Can you see me, Red?
Killing me inside again
Crazy how it feels
Right and wrong it steels
Always searching for something more
Zippo lighters and kicking down doors
Easy times they where indeed
but this is how it feels to me
The crowd dots the cavernous hall,
colorfully scatter like a box of fallen jujubes,
a virtual confetti of humanity
with hoots and catcalls, the ruckus roar.
The politicians venture forth unabashedly;
prancing and pandering for chump change
like circus bears on their hind legs,
drool running from the corners of their painted mouths,
captured on camera.
Well-worn platitudes slide through the ether;
wrapped in the crisp new cellophane of twenty-first century jargon
thinly guised in the aroma of hot buttered popcorn;
the moronic masses roar,
behind the orange flames
of plastic lighters.
* The Nader convention Green Part canidacy 2000 Radio City New York.
There is a mending of the elements in an awakening process which removes a curtain of darkness.
Now is the time to recognize the power of the slumbering giant within and eliminate any starkness.
As we are living, breathing sentient entities, as is mother earth from which these bodies have risen.
Earth has been afflicted with obsessive control, malice, coercive greed, envy, false ego, and man-made viruses resulting in an invisible prison.
The earth and all the fullness thereof have emanated from one place, one source.
As a drop of water from the endless fathoms of boundless oceans, we all have the same properties as this limitless benevolent force.
This place, this creation, this hologram, or matrix is a school in which to learn and grow, to remember our God-given heritage, and aspire to elevate.
No need to listen to lies and gas lighters, nor linger with na Sayers, for the truth is in you, and that in itself, makes you truly and ultimately great.
Dear Susan,
I am an angel. An angelic being. I'm of the order of the first sphere- an angel who serves
as a heavenly counselor. I'm a cherabim. You may call me Cherabim.
Beyond the thrones are the cherabims. I am a gaurdian of light, and the stars. Remote
from the plane of reality, still my life touches your life, the divine light that filters down from
Heaven.
Last night, you focused so much on light. You needed light to offset the darkness in which
you knew you could not see. You saw the beauty that light could give you to see what was
right in front of your eyes. You chose fire and wax. Exquisite candles and lighters to light
them. This morning you saw the light, and it was good.
On the way home there was light in the sky; a silver sliver of a moon and a twinkling
bright star, yes, Cherabim talking to you! It was good!
With Light and Counsel,
Cherabim
I carry this 30 pound bag wherever I go,
Some call this item a purse,
I say burden!
Inside;
pink wallet with metallic stars
(not alot within except an unused gift card and an ID)
12 hair ties, all black
2 bottles nail polish
(1 is Lagoon blue, 1 is something called Rant)
6 dollars in change
2 books
lint roller
make-up bag
2 kinds of perfume
(a girl needs to smell pretty)
cell phone
cigarettes
2 lighters
5 pens, 2 pencils
notebook for poems
Sour Patch Kids and Swedish Fish
Gobstoppers
hand lotion
2 magazines
mp3 player
eye glasses with case
name tag for work
antibiotics and pain relievers
and a random cat toy, a blue mouse.
What a mess!
I stepped quickly.
They were graceful steps
And still possessed the
Potential for slipping
Under me.
I was aching to know where
The soothing sultry noise had
Come from. I was sure it
Wasn't in my head. It was
There through that generous
Crowd.
There was a stage. My companion and
I stood on a slope. We had a mostly clear
View. The song in the darkness came
FROM her DENISE WILLIAMS'
I could not turn this page and GRACEFULLY
walk away. For. Sure I would stumble. My
Companion mumbled, let's stand here and
Listen to this song.
Some held their lighters high hoping to hear
More clearly. A song in the dark became a
Concert in the park.
The grass was moist. The atmosphere was
Bubbling with execitement .I took my lighter from my bag
And held it high. My companion did the
Same and smiled.
This was one of DENISE WILLIAM'S best songs
BLACK BUTTERFLY. Pleasing seriously STUNNING
Sultry Sunday sterling silver STYLE.
THE concert lasted quite a while.
Walk a mile. Walk a mile.
The young starlet is sacrificed.
She is stark naked on a 20 foot
crucifix.
Piss streams
run down her thighs
and the wood.
Nails thick as cigarette lighters
are pounded through the bone.
Blood seeps to the surface
and stains her pasty, chalky skin.
Once vital hair
drapes down
over a low head.
Ecstatic apes,
also naked,
ranging in all ages, from the youngest
to the senior,
dance a mad dance in a circle
around the crucified dame
in a ceremony of grounding.
«You raise me up»
«You raise me up» played on the radio
It made me feel good, and just a little bit sad
Sad because when we lift each other up
We raise us up, by lowering someone else
Those we don’t agree with
Everyone who smell of garlic
Those who don’t fit, fit in
Fit in our neighbourhood
Doesn’t fit in the White House
I saw “You raise me up” on YouTube
The crowd sang; lighters lit up the night
The next song made me really feel sad
“Bridge over troubled water”
The singer was pitch perfect
The choir, and the crowd, was there
The orchestra played to perfection
I have seen many bridges; walked them too
Large and small, old and new
Had we only been so good at
Building bridges between people
Over troubled waters
The Mad Doctor said it was official
a solo act with nothing artificial
a fine new creature
with added features
Frankenstein with bells and whistles
Opening night into the audience he jumped
when in his throat he got a huge lump
audience forgot
bic lighters a shock
running away through town like Forrest Gump
The Mad Doctor enrolled him in a class
to overcome his phobia at last
nothing worked
he just went berserk
the class barbecues too much of a flash
Back on stage there was no need to dash
bell and whistle tunes with a lot of class
bic lighter ban
in the stands
his classic hits making a lot of cash.
10-19-17
had Julian been even a sparkle in his
mom’s eyes
when Ray put the pen to Fahrenheit 451,
one might have witness the light being
passed
straight from one hand to the next---
from Zamyatin to
Huxley & from Huxley to
Orwell & from Orwell to
Mr. Bradbury & from Mr. Bradbury to
Burgess, from Burgess to Atwood &
onward &
as one picks up the torch,
cranking the floodlights on the
dastardly deeds of the empire at hand
12 more flick on their lighters,
17 more strike matches &
light candles, whilst the flashlights,
the spotlights, the headlights,
the energy saving sunlight bulbs &
even the bug lights,
all spread like rampant wildfire
throughout the world,
continuing the tradition
(one of the few worth keeping)---
Julian & Wikileaks, Anonymous &
LulzSec,
should not be assaulted but instead
hailed for what they are doing,
as the work they are producing is
of immeasurable value to our species---
they all run with the flame burning bright &
though idiots across the board still
buy into the propaganda peddled by the
masters spending $5 billion a year in
the campaign to brainwash more of us
citizens into
numbness,
we who work in the light
unafraid of these attempts still failing
miserably on us,
raise our lights in unison
for one day this world will be lit
perpetually, and not the largest
industrial blower of any kind
promulgated by the powers that be,
will be able to extinguish it.
when the pack is empty
nothing out weighs the need
the brain is sick
and the breath it pleads
even unlit
it brings us calm
but the absence of ciggie
is a cause for alarm
our smoking friends
throw us life savers
but when they're gone
where is our savior
at times like these
there is no need to quit
there is only one answer
that can answer our wit
all friends desert us
in our deepest need
ciggie is just another friend
undisguised that is greed
even cars have lighters and
ashtrays to please
that unknown factor
that can bring us to our knees
pen and paper
and ashtray near by
taking that breath
wondering what to write
we believe it's helping
what we're doing to ourself
it may be relaxing
but when it's gone
it's something else
A spectrum of memories // etched in // directing
Synaptic obscenities // fetching regrets //
Count those dour mental entities // concepts like insects //
Innumerable enemies // wielding their sketches
Of interlacing, undulating, thoughts I’d never saught to see again
It’s raining, awful tortured claws of water dripping down my neck
Engaging like the famous horsemen four of the apocalypse
A brainwave tells me faught or flew is not an option, it’s past tense
And it’s passed any means of remedy - my enemy’s my friend
And it’s last orders on the corner where I’m standing with a ten
And if I bought at four I might, instead I waited ‘til seven
I test the borders and the corners of the realm of temptation
Daily thoughts of pickin’ up…
…When all the pieces come unstuck
And I thank that’s It’s a familiar pattern
I piece it back together, crumb by speck by dotted flame, refuelled lighters on the bristle of tobacco peering from its paper nesting, used now to light a subtle torch, the lightbulb in my head, a spotlight thats located a second answer -
And I thank that it’s a familiar pattern
As I know how to piece it back together.
Tomorrow, do the same thing again,
But tonight, a glass of water then bed
Dreaming of keeping the faith
Dreaming always
http://samnicholasharrison.tumblr.com/
There is a violent war that’s not in movies.
These soldiers we lost are not seen on TVs.
Friendly fire is the biggest killer of our men.
Per soldier lost at war, at home we lost over 10.
People know of PTSD and shell shock.
But the effects must be taken stock.
We civilians don’t know what they go through.
As their mission ended with nothing left to do.
The training and survival skills do not go away.
The paranoia and fear are in the brain to stay.
Losing purpose and absent structure remain.
Leads to wild thoughts some feel are insane.
To help this issue we learn to band together.
Soldiers and civilians become of one feather.
The group is created to address the mess.
Allowing soldiers a place free to confess.
By linking all our bodies, souls and mind,
We continue the motto No Man Left Behind.
Put your feet on the ground and breathe deep.
Go up and down, quieting thoughts to a peep.
Fully balance out your body from head to toe.
Watch the changes as you reap what you sow.
Feel your body tremble working through pain.
Doing rep after rep, finding a pace to sustain.
Logging the numbers to account for the grind.
Crushing the haters you’re leaving behind.
Both internal and out keep their mouth shut.
Knock out a set and they can kiss your butt.
Suicide may have previously won the battle.
But Americans are not Grim Reaper’s cattle.
We’ve banded together to win this fight.
Saving lives at home is what’s in sight.
Whether you do many thousands or just two.
The squats can straighten out a mind screw.
Forcing the blood through our bodies quick.
Turning soft legs into muscle hard and thick.
Forging our glutes into newfound rocks.
Quieting the mental voice that mocks.
Demons can pucker and kiss our rock butts.
Squat therapy can prevent deep wrist cuts.
Connecting with distant suicide fighters.
Illuminating the dark room with lighters.
Helping one other on our physical journey.
Carrying the fallen on a virtual gurney.
The strong reach out and will carry the weak.
Forging us forward on the challenge we seek.
Some days disappoint and others we surprise.
But the goal of what we do is to open the eyes.
The experience I’m discussing is Mission 22.
It’s been an honor to share the ride with you.
So although we will approach the 2,200 soon.
The best is yet to come for us, so stay in tune!
Puff Puff The Dragon
Let the Marlboro Cigarette Go
I Hate To See Your Lungs Drop Out Of Your Chest
It's Already Bad Often Your Breath Smells Like A Hot Mess
Don't You Want To Live
Don't You Want To Be Cancer Free
Let It Go
Let It Go
Let Go Of The Marlboro Cigarette And Lighter
So You Will Not Die
P.S.
Say No To Cigarettes And Lighters
Say Yes To Life
By: Shaniki Smith
06-09-2016
everyone is so afraid
and they hold it in like a broken music box
like a damaged videotape
and a telescope that sees beyond skin
is lost in the garbage pile at the end of the
Bermuda triangle wormhole
like a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow
like a diamond in the rough
chase me like i'm just bent light
like i'm a complex assemblage of colors
created by some unknown material;
mind-bent and deranged and unsound
but you can try to find the screams
that only echo within sound-proof walls
and bounce around erratically in a graphically patterned place
covert and masked by shadows
you don't need your collection of lighters anymore
from all the states you've been
'cause i've been everywhere
i'm everything that you are
and everything you aren't
i'm a cracked kaleidospoe
and you're a telescope that sees beyond skin
that won't see the crack
just the face broken into many in order to deceive
but there's really just one
so don't get lost