Best Smoke Poems
Smoke Rings
If she wanted to stay he would make her a place,
for he loves ev'rything that she is,
and he'd willingly give all the world and the stars
for her love--if they only were his.
But he likes it alone, and in silence he knows,
if he wants, he can talk to the moon,
or hear voices at bars, or the children he loves,
and if wanting to go--he'll go soon.
Or to stay if he choose, for the night is still young,
but she's there, and he's wanting to say
all the words in his heart--but he's holding them back
and the night is much colder than day.
So he goes to someone who's no danger to ways
though he smiles, he is really not there
and he wants to forget, but he wants to live on,
if she stays or she goes, he will care.
And the one he is with, sees the love in his eyes,
and she knows it's not hers anyway,
but the ones' who was late, and the one who will go,
and the one he will never let stay.
If he asks and she stays, he'll go off the deep end,
and he knows she loves silence--as he;
and she stays for a while, til the silence is deep,
and the end is the end that must be.
But she looks at the floor when he wants her to see,
and she goes when he wants her to stay,
but the words are not there, and he watches her go,
with the thought that it must be this way,
but he smiles in his heart--for he's known her at least,
and he's loved--and has found love is good,
and the end that he feared, he prevented in life,
though he wonders if he ever should.
And the journey is long--he'll look back on her face,
and he'll think, many times, there it goes!
and he'll always regret; for it's always alive,
and she's part of his life, and he knows.
And the others who see--feel the same for their own,
and they wonder why he doesn't try,
but it's smoke rings they see; or a bird in their hand
that is wanting to fade in the sky.
And the sky will embrace ev'rything in the end,
and the things that we see are a mask,
and the smoke rings that fade to the will of the sky
are in love--and the sky didn't ask.
When the party’s over, the rising sun shines, with all eyes squinting
Make-up smeared on face’s, some have slimy snail skin
A woman waiting for a gent to light her cigarette, just hinting
Last thing she remembered the drink in her cup sink’n in
Alas a smoke from the one glaring all night, even his lighter is glinting
That night she lost her balance, her head, and her Gucci slipper
Though in costume, she didn’t feel like Cinderella anymore
Drunk-on champaign they went out to the marina for a dipper
Everyone dancing all night, felt great, with music galore
At the stroke of midnight, on a yacht, a first mate and his skipper
Swirling in gay abandon in her party dress, putting on a show
The first one to leave is deemed a killjoy in this circle fest
They pulled an all-nighter, ‘neith the shroud of the moon’s luscious glow
The first one to leave the event, was weary, in the state of unrest
The sun is setting, the party is ending, a new day calls, a caravan in tow
His fragile limbs in a caged body
seeking proteins from ivy drips
vulnerable fears hushed by whirring darkness
paranoia draped in wavering existence of malady
sea of sick humans hanging like leaves from willow
mitigated by prayers of angels in white coats
yet lowered pulse rate in hopeful daylight
but his sumptuous mind holds the key to freedom
in deepest slumber his twisted cage breaks free
arising hopes float in ropes of subconscious mist
his smiling shadow traces whispers of memories
he sways his brittle fingers in ecstasy
shapes of smoke growing as titans in silence
his love is a ghost that the others can't see
exploding stars in topaz lit utopia paint
charcoal brush adorning sparkling bristles of love
colourful patterns on canvas of blank memory
flashing waves entrancing visions of kisses alight
blankets of amnesia in existence but he dances
on a hustling vintage platform emerging in fog
breeze in his red shirt chasing scarlet sunsets
he boards a crimson wagon longing for a journey
holding roses for Aphrodite in the land of swans
simmering in flashes of blooming glitters.
Rising dawn clicks the buttons in his mind
blank memories, ivy drips lock him away
in a caged body his fragile limbs rest
nobody knows he visits a soothing paradise
fog curls under his pillow in deep oceans
till slithering hazy sapphire nights arrive
July 20, 2020
Delirium Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Kai Michael Neumann
~Premiere Contest Winner: 1st Place
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...
Passion burned brighter
than candle flames
licking shadows on the wall.
A tongue sipped sweet nectar
from cream filled silken folds
that quivered with each libidinous stroke.
Like wisps of smoke, her whimpers rose
aroused by sensual flickering.
Embers smoldering
until luxuria was sated.
Some Kind of Sensual Poetry Contest
sponsored by Nette Onclaud
6/3/2020 -- 44 words
When we were nine
and yearning, outcasted
I did not understand the bruised
nature of your soul. Perhaps I
do not understand even now.
I remember
how I criticized you for the way
you sang "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star"
in your warbling baby voice
also how you were the only one
who ever acknowledged me.
I remember
how you lived with grandparents, aunts
instead of your methhead parents.
Your blonde hair. Your ugly clothes.
Freckles and a cheap brand of romanticism.
A picture of you and me, sixteen:
I remember
you used to say, "Call me Puff"
to all the dangerous boys; we once
crowded on a dirty mattress with four
other people passing bong for weed,
pipe for that toxic crystal Devil of
devils. I remember
you fed me cigarettes, cherry tomatoes
from your grandfather's garden.
A lightless smoky room full
of young and lonesome prisoners
of perpetuated misguided soul-searching--
I remember
how we savored our shared pain
like something holy. Godhead of
black magic and the violation
of innocence.
Today I
am torn of that chrysalis,
and I think sometimes of your soul
left there to stagnate
in the dark. Christina
I don't know how to say
any of this to you,
but when I remember how
you fed me cherry tomatoes
I think of your grandfather
finding you out, you were feeding
meth to your young teenaged sister
so she wouldn't care if your
boyfriend and all his friends
f***ed her.
I remember
feeling so much love for you (sister?)
when now your name compels in me
nothing but disgust--this disgust
which bruises my soul, Christina...
I never wanted to feel this.
If words could envelop fire,
I’d whisper softly into a quiet
note and let the pyre in my
lonely coffer spill out it’s smokey dispatch.
Letting pathos glow inside carrion’s beat,
I would endeavor this note reach a messenger
with quick feet, so that you would read it before
I became nothing more than a ruin,
damned by it’s own occasion.
I would speak with a gentle urgency,
through teeth like embers of brimstone.
" Let not your tender humor steer you
in a direction that would wilt us both.
Fan the flames that have consumed me,
It’s a burn that fuels our passion
I love you and the pain that you bring,
you are the brightness in the sky,
and the darkness of night.
You are the sting of broken flesh,
and the sweet release of blood that flows.
You are the healing of my blackened benevolence,
and the anger in my wisdom.
You are my second eye,
and my heaviest anchor.
You are the spark,
and the kindle.
You are my Queen.”
-James Kelley 2013, All rights reserved
s
m
o
k
e
s
e
s
i
r
l * a * z * i * l * y
from the dying embers
of a b-u-r-n-t-out romance
outdated emotions
wrapped in
l
e
th-
ar
-gy
Will a b~r~ee~z~e come
to fan it
back to life?
--------------------------------
Paul Callus ~ 24th Oct 2015
Contest: Creative Layouts
Sponsor: Broken Wings
Placed 1st
She stood in the doorway of the house
Her vibrant cerise pink dressing gown bulging at the seams -
Like a sack of dough tied up in the middle
Life has been hard for her and it shows in her face
Which was lined like the bark of a gnarled oak tree
Clouds of smoke billow from the cigarette
that hangs like an icicle from the corner of her mouth
I smile and say hello
Embarrassed at being seen she lets the cigarette fall
Retreating rapidly through the clearing fog back indoors
I observed this scene when I was out walking yesterday
3rd April 2015
Form:
Black Powder
---------------------------------------
He waits offstage, his posture tense,
his gaze locked on the audience -
his first in years.
He blots the sweat that wets his face,
then walks onstage and gets in place,
amidst their cheers.
In bowtie, vest and dinner tails,
he's dressed down to his fingernails.
His face is flushed.
His eyes close tight, his breathing slows,
beyond his sight, the tension grows
The house is hushed...
If he can pull from knurled old trunks,
the Magic that their world debunks,
he can pretend
(at least until the curtain rolls)
it's still his show, and he controls
it in the end.
Illusion casts no lasting spell.
No, in conclusion, he's not well,
so... shifting gears,
he lifts his hat to loud applause,
black powder sifting out like gauze...
and disappears... *
---------------------------------------
Under the cloud where the velvet smoke bled,
'Love's a curse' the smiling soul said;
The blood in the dwarf's heart then froze,
When an indecisive liar presented her the rose...
The fingers around which my ring would slide,
On the clod evening, she would be, my bride,
Breathing in, exhaling kisses, she'll be by my side,
Where on a heavy monster, we'll go off on a love's ride,
Behold, and kiss my eyes,
I don't crave to know the plight...
If ever, the delusion of this imagination doesn't lie an illusion,
On the naked dawn, I shall suck your lips; raping the confusions...
Words will then bleed letters,
As I look at my unsent love letters,
Each letter now the fire shall batter,
When your head's on my chest, nothing's better...
Let your naked breast touch my chest,
This is a dim light in the darkness of miles, called love,
Which gives plight, or rises all above,
Pull me closer, don't shove,
I'm the dead pegion, you're my dove!
Let's live in a fairytale,
you can chase away the dragons,
who's smoke breathes to life,
the nightmares in my dreams.
I can be your Princess,
You can hold me in your arms,
Like a Knight in shinning armor,
And hush away my screams.
No more wasted time,
with smoke and mirrors,
You're not a Court Jester,
lets speak the truth.
Will you say a sweet goodbye,
Or will you not shed a tear from your eye,
There's a dagger in my heart,
The icy pain is all I need for proof.
Diamond teardrops from my eyes,
Hurry dear, they say you must be quick,
To capture each before they dry,
The tears of when a Gypsy cries.
Are you, nothing more than a collector,
Do I hold no beauty in beggers clothes,
Lets face reality my love, you are no knight,
And neither a Prince if truth is to be told.
And I am no Princess,
Did I once have you fooled?
Though once we lived as such,
Our love has ever cooled.
Must I break through,
Past the freezing layers of your heart,
To see if the thought still pains you,
Of us being forever apart?
I must open my eyes,
And live in the truth,
That dragons do not exist,
And are just fiction of the soused.
You will not ever save me,
from their tongues of flame,
But burn me with your own,
And make me feel my shame.
You will not shield me,
from poisened arrows that fall,
but with the anger in your eyes,
I'll feel as if they've broken through the castle walls.
I was once, the Juliet,
That led you to your death,
Venom rampent through your veins,
Revenge seems to be your quest.
At each word you say,
It feels as though I'll die,
My heart breaks and shatters,
And you show no concern of why.
And yet at night you pull me close,
Whispering sweet nectar to me,
That makes me wonder,
Must we still live in their reality?
Is there hope left for our fairytale,
To have a happy end?
Love like a fairytale, or Harsh Reality,
No time left to pretend, I must know the end.
Scarred and Blackened
In Tasmania’s rugged but scenic South West
Lies an ancient land of pristine wilderness
Protected by a World Heritage Listing
An eco-system a thousand years nesting
A land of Aboriginal spiritual dreamtime
Where rare native flora survives, like Pencil Pine
And fauna abound on the Button Grass plains
With rugged mountain ranges never tamed
Hunter Gatherers burned to reduce the fuel load
The protectors now heading down the wrong road
By letting the fuel build to immense dimensions
A massive fire just waiting to turn the land ashen
The spirit of storm clouds gathers up high
For the rangers this is pleasing to the eye
But alas, this building spiral of cloud is dry
Just building thunder heads in the sky
The inner circle of the clouds one big mass
Intermingle, then with violence they clash
Spewing bolts of lightning to the ground
But not a drop of precious rain to be found
A searing bolt of lightning grounds
Amid the drought-stricken pencil pines
An explosion of sparks, then flames
A fire is born the lightening to blame
Spreading quickly with the brisk westerly winds
The fire races through the dry Button grass plains
A massive cloud of smoke drifts east
Alerting the protectors to this massive beast
The call goes out for fire fighters and water bombers
As the black smoke causes concern to near-by loggers
For the fire now a catastrophic inferno
Consuming the wilderness like no tomorrow
The water bombers and man-power useless
Against this cataclysm of wild fire that has unleashed
Thousands of acres of pristine wilderness
Now blackened and scared, a nothingness
For weeks it burned, some 100,000 acres
Now tamed by remote area fire-fighters
But the scars from the fire yet to discover
A landscape that will take years to recover
Global warming, to blame many think
As this South-West area was always wet
Many years of below average rainfall
Perhaps Mother-Nature having her revenge
His boots are trekking through a foreign land
Rifle ready to deliver death....
But it's his blood that stains the desert sand
And it's there he draws his final breath
Bullets fly along a lonely desert road
As soldiers fight hard to survive
Another IED explodes
Causing more to lose their lives
As the battle rages on
They radio for air support
Soon their enemies will be gone
Blown away in war's distort
In a town not far away
They see black smoke rise
The town is now a ruin of gray
As jets go roaring cross the sky
Dead bodies are strewn on the ground
As they look on with merciless eyes
Death echoes all around
As they hear the children cry
5/21/17
truth steeped in lies is no truth at all - wind collaborates with smokestack
3/27/2019