Best Smokeless Poems
My soul is my guide.. Rumi
I once adored the warmth
of unreachable desires.
Ascending too high,
I fell from the sky just like Icarus.
Suffering from the flames of fate,
my eyes resembled a million candles
burning tears of wax.
But, I've always been familiar with fire,
as I was born scarred from internal inflames.
It's a blessing when strings of attachment
cremate into ashes.
Love is a vintage gold rose,
an irreversible ideology,
where thorns grow upon petals of pain.
In an autumnal aura, all scents fade,
so I remain in pale blackness -
my sighs as heavy as smokeless tar.
Yet, I know my soul will blossom,
once again with robins in Spring,
as scents of sweet almonds return
with the rebirth of roses without thorns.
In a world of imagination
the colours of love are boundless.
Romance is an opal rainbow over
stormy oceans yearning for turquoise tides.
If my heart was a gem,
it would reflect like a scarlet diamond,
walking upon malachite meadows,
full of ivory orchids with purple lilies,
admiring aquamarine skies,
with hues of amethyst and citrine.
We were all born to sparkle..
Under tones of indigo moonstone
with hints of pink,
my quill will scribble in lilac ink
as love always returns.
Simple Musing.
Categories:
smokeless, allusion, love,
Form:
Free verse
as
she sits
on the edge
of her bed
the candle
burns
her
thoughts drift
with the aroma
and light smoke
one touch from
masculine hands
could light desire
and she would melt
into a slow trickle
like a candle's edge
beneath the heat of
red glow to puddles
of warmth below
her eyes tear in a smokeless room as she sits
on her bed alone...the candle burns itself out
8/16/13
Categories:
smokeless, lonely,
Form:
Concrete
Smokeless inhales hurt.
I cough tar on my shirt.
As my black lungs breathe,
Shrilling exhales wheeze.
Cabrona
Falls me
Down to
My knees.
The nicotine cracks
My will.
My composure
Spills.
I want
This.
I must
Have this.
I sink
Into
The brink
Of madness.
Categories:
smokeless, confusion, dedication, depression, devotion,
Form:
Free verse
As growing season halts at summer's end
Green leaves begin to starve for chlorophyll
Sun rays cook nutrients now trapped within
The leaves change colors with the frosty chill
Emblazoned mountains burn with Autumn's fire
Bright flame like red and orange yellow leaves
A russet carpet is the grounds attire
More beautiful than any could conceive
And yet we never cease to be amazed
The coat of many colors nature wears
Each fall we watch the smokeless leafy blaze
"Til winter winds disrobe and trees stand bare
Igniting our illusions with a view
Those Autumn fires in trees of russet hues
October 21 2016
Categories:
smokeless, appreciation, autumn, beauty,
Form:
Sonnet
An Empty Circle – Part 5
A clearing they did enter slow,
though haste was of the days found deed
Beyond the waters chanting flow
of driftwood doors and ancient weed
There stood a man in beard of white,
not startled as they entered sure
His staff possessed a jeweled light,
a robe of crimson fabric bore
Through misted haze of chanted sway
they spoke for it was their command
He turned to stare with eyes of gray
and silence them with lifted hand
“You words are known before you speak
of beauty taken to the gate
A potion, magic, which you seek
to wish on hope and not too late”
Upon the floor a contoured ring
in seashell essence powered stain
A cauldron empty smokeless sting
it burned their eyes, their skin the same
“Fear not for this shall be the path,
Now step within this circled mark”
As they obeyed, with wave of staff
and suddenly their world was dark
With woven lines of vibrant glare,
a feeling ‘pon their chests fell tight
Now breathless as their thoughts did share
when sure of foot they stood in light
As focus came their worried eyes,
their castle stood as if a dream
The shaman spoke, past sorrowed cries
“Now take me promptly to your queen”
Categories:
smokeless, fantasy,
Form:
Rhyme
After a century,
I still get sucked into the swirl of light
Into your eyes and attached to the flare of fire
And rumbling steps that
Shake my walls.
Throwing back the years, in a cave I discovered and
Watched you blowing fire and wrestling
With the same invaders who tried to
Freeze and stake me with ice.
I counted petals in your cave,
Yearning and yet afraid of the blowing fire
That could kill and dispel my long
Frost slumber.
Yet my steps got closer and
Dared your eyes to meet mine:
Fire and ice, an explosion,
Through the smoke, naked,
Raining pain, I could feel you, a man
Touching my face with such
Gentleness.
Since then, flowers come out of
Crevices and shadows,
Breathing life into Spring.
Summer simmers, fireflies breeze through
Our hands.
Fall becomes a gentle cushion,
And Winter shivers, anticipating
Your fire to stoke up the branches,
Crackling in flame.
Seasons pass, I take note of the sun painting us
A majestic color and letting us
Fit it in our palms before it descends
Below the mountain.
The moon Follows our steps home and
Into our bedroom where your fire tames
And I count your smokeless snore into the wee hours.
Categories:
smokeless, age, appreciation,
Form:
Free verse
Lights of the city are twinkling across
arches of the rivers and shining down
as if to illuminate the jolly path
of the old man known as Father Christmas-
Kris Kringle-Santa Claus or Saint Nick
tonight tumbling onto the rooftops -
clattering down many smokeless chimneys
carrying his velveteen sack of gifts.
Santa forget my gifts this year-I'd rather
you give them to someone in need.
Bless some child and teach him to smile.
Take my abundance and feed the hungry-
wrap them up tight in my down feather coat.
My wish is that they hear the music I hear-
find their voice and sing "Silent Night".
I'll be their harmony and their strength.
Sinterklaas-take the afflicted and allow
the Lord to make them whole once more.
Don't let them flounder or look backwards.
Dry their eyes and show them the light
of a vibrant future-a hopeful dawn.
Let a merry Christmas be mine to share
with every jingle of silver bells
and the richest fragrance the yuletide brings.
Categories:
smokeless, christmas, giving,
Form:
Epic
Drunken Moon Haiku
smokeless tobacco
seeking light from another
mooching off the sun
loitering in dusk’s
drunken aura of darkness
last call at sunrise
a lone wolf’s farewell
song of life’s broken spirit
hobos serenade
round moon – square window
cold framing whiskey’s wisdom
red cheeked aftermath
John G. Lawless
7/3/2015
written for prompt of DRUNKEN MOON HAIKU
Categories:
smokeless, moon,
Form:
Haiku
Jack Frost, a naughty hellion's arrival is often afeared.
Acrimoniously he brings his uncharitable winter baggage of
Chilblains, clattering teeth, frost bites, snow blindness,
Knocking down the strongest in sleety ice and frozen snow.
Fathomless is his mischief with kids in winter, and
Roars in laughter at their overreactive plight in ice skating.
Outraged at being tied down by rules, Jack frees himself to
Sculpt snowmen smoking smokeless pipes which
Tempts children to snowball attacks in his blissful wintry eden.
December 3, 2015
Contest: Acrostic-Jack Frost
Sponsor: Shadow Hamilton
Categories:
smokeless, allusion, fun, kid, paradise,
Form:
Acrostic
Racism started when God created Adam
The Devil didn't want to bow him,
Because he was created from smokeless fire
But Adam was created from mud and water.
So this two can't be mixed together
They started to stand against each other
When European established their colonies,
They sow seeds of Racism for giving priorities
Still people are being ignored for their colours
It's quite injustice for others
As we can't create ourselves black or white
So no more Racism no more fight.
Categories:
smokeless, allusion, anger, anti bullying,
Form:
Classicism
liquid has swift wings
when the fuel is sweet
and glasses half-full
consistent
light dims as a sigh
for the shadow's walk,
reflecting inward glow
elation of the stranger's eye
flint strike spark
dry timber, helpless
ignition
fast flame, burn
smokeless ember drenched
favored hands flicker
glide and clench,
sticky sweet and ashen
blisters form unnoticed
in confused heat, diminished
sunblast shatter
curtain call,
morning mist remembrance
soldered faces of the dancers
burnt with dreamstate's grin.
Categories:
smokeless, life, love, passion
Form:
Free verse
Through deep despair were grown my homesick tears,
Worn by an inmate boxed in cement pine,
That cried for walls remembered through the years,
Forgotten treasures thought by me as mine;
Where laughter smiled when clouds of summer stirred,
And always rain would form inviting pools;
And abject fate was fate true-love deferred,
By leaps that bound hot-water ‘round in spools;
But my prison-cell locks memories stark,
Incarcerating what now fades to grey;
Sentenced forevers lost in wilderness dark,
That haven’t learned what freedom means today;
A fire burned bright but now smolders smokeless,
Imprisons visions streamed – lonely and homeless.
10/23/16
Submitted for Seeker's Homeless Contest
Categories:
smokeless, loneliness, lost love,
Form:
Sonnet
A young small spruce tree had grown
In the sprawling evergreen conifer forest
Once decided to celebrate Christmas alone
In an isolated hamlet that’s the nearest.
It then started to slowly walk on a faint track
In the Christmas eve hours of the cold night
With the blue moon shimmering on its back
Where the snowflakes fluttered, falling light.
At the thinned edge of the receding thicket
On the crumbling slopes of the rippling hill
An old house remotely hung, grimly isolated
The smokeless chimney on its top stood still.
Through the cracked house’s frosted window
The tree looked inside the room dark and cold
A little girl making a tree of creased paper it saw
For a green Christmas tree they couldn’t afford.
The small tree called the sad little girl to come out
They went together to the nearby freezing garden
She plucked the last flowers for the tree to decorate
The moon made snowflakes on the tree to glisten.
A star descended on the tree from the glowing sky
Finished the decoration sticking on its conical crown
Lending its sparkle to the little girl’s lightened eyes
They celebrated the Christmas they’d never known.
When for the girl bed time came her mother found
Her in deep sleep the fingers curled, smeared in glue
The paper tree in her arms, both lying on the ground
Her dream won't break, it would one day come true.
December 12, 2017.
Categories:
smokeless, celebration, christmas, tree,
Form:
Personification
.
It rages from within itself,
feeding on its own inner fire,
ablaze with the vilest of ire.
With spiteful, toxic vengeance
'neath the gloss of civility,
it smolders silently smokeless.
With mean, murderous intent,
'neath the mask of cordiality,
it burns so flawlessly flameless.
With insatiable, hellish wrath,
'neath the charm of sincerity,
it boils up then explodes noiseless.
It's a cold, seething ember
in a smile deeply embedded,
your vindictive, white-hot hatred!
.
Categories:
smokeless, passion
Form:
Tail-rhyme
Why is it, today?
Is it the demons playing games again in the ethereal realms?
Are they yet again trick-or-treating hidden hoof to helm?
The third of your eyes is sighing yet again,
At the inventive sight you hide within,
Calling forth the smokeless fire,
Whose embers summon djinn.
Fancy you and your godless gloat fearing feelings from fabricated imagination,
Stunned in terror by ghouls and ghosts that haunt the souls who hail creation.
So if it isn’t the fiction of religious diction,
For you’ve read more than followers know,
Why is it today, you feel such fright,
Are long-legged beasties’ clumsy limbs bumping in the night?
Why is it, today?
Is it the intelligence agency again and their covert operations?
Have MKULTRA and COINTELPRO made you a tireless terrorist in their nation?
Your head is yet again sobbing and throbbing,
Pumping in an overstimulated state,
Calling forth the remotely viewed,
Status of project STARGATE.
Behold the brain inside the boy that absorbs that which it breathes,
Stunned by directed energy weapons concealed in tedious household sheathes.
So if it isn’t the surreptitious deceit,
For you know more than a psychopath knows,
Why is it today, you feel such fright,
Are you critical to the crosshair on an archer’s bow?
Why is it, today?
That you are such a sham,
What happened to your once-magnificent body and mind?
For you are no longer me but a puppet on strings,
Humming strummed sounds a ventriloquist sings.
Categories:
smokeless, confusion, depression, evil, psychological,
Form:
Rhyme