Cigarette Poems - Poems about Cigarette

unhealthy this obsession of mine that asks you to use me at your will, the room is glowing red and- can hide your imprints on my neck unhealthy this obsession of mine to be burned by your touch, your cigarette against my skin and its smoke filling up my lungs unhealthy this obsession of mine to be deserted and left in ruins your teeth biting...

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Pass me the cigarette She who I thought will stay Gone long back Me who now is a fall guy What life has in store anymore Who knows But who cares The angel has returned to paradise So pass me the cigarette In the process of becoming Steve Jobs I became Steve Harrington You can call me voat Cause I am the villain of all time So brother...

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it's how we cast shadows our scattered pieces that stick in your throat or mellow you out on inhalation but tell me, how gently will you hold me - now I'm laid bare? I don't know anymore if I'm held together just by your glance or the fact you deem I have value I'd surely fall apart in anyone...

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the sharp cry of metal scrapping flint sets you ablaze, combustion, turning oxygen and nicotine into ash in my mouth, I want to kiss you my dear, I want to breath you in and fill my lungs to the brim with your choked up hope I want to wait and see, believe with every part of me, that when i finish this...

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I see the shadow of the smoke In the morning light after I woke....

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Lucky Strikes was his cigarette Soothing his nerves from what he could expect He had been at war since ‘43 And his War story had been something to see It was his unit’s turn for the front line And he knew the next weeks would not be kind The sergeant called break and they went to ground And with his friends they...

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I am that slender lady in sexy white sheets, my figure is smoking hot when my body touches the heat. I’ll give you moments of pleasure and a fill of nicotine, but around your healthy lungs I’ll weave my tricotine I am a silent killer causing deadly disease, but people ignore the warnings and signs of...

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She comes across the screen dancing her boots off. Kicking and carousing, showing us her sexy legs. She is the Old Gold Cigarette Girl of course! Men were men back in the sixties, But women were “girls” – it put them on their children’s level Because men could not take the vote back....

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I asked the owl: “What is love?” She said to me: "Ask God." I asked God: “What is love?” He said: “Ask your wife.” I asked my wife: “What is love?” She replied with a smile: «Ask the owl» I smoked a cigarette and left the city behind. J’ai demandé à la chouette : « Qu’est-ce que l’amour ? » Elle m’a dit : « Demande à Dieu. » J’ai demandé...

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What you said Vs1 My hands are shaking I light another cigarette My heart is breaking I wish i could forget What you said to me What you did to me What you mean to me Oh oh what you mean to me Vs2 My eyes are heavy I pour another drink My stomach churning I just don't wanna think What you said to me What you did to me What you...

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A blank stare into nothingness Suddenly I looked up as something caught my eye A very pretty girl saunters in and buys herself a coffee And perches herself cross-legged upon a cleared table in front of me Among the crowded cafe din with cackling clucking hens The mystery girl dressed divinely looking like a Bird of paradise She flicks her hair...

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Vicky my poor widow and maid I had to pause and write you this page A passing though my love has made to mention you and the love I caged My sight was your prisoner when ever you were around Desire well known deceptive clown I fought the worlds reality and defeat it with eternity My love will out live time itself A piece of my...

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...Then it was a longest day And thereafter, shortest night Things were going usual way Metaphorical insight Didn’t happen, though it could I was busy placing bets Heard some angel spoke to me If I have a cigarette “I’m so sorry to quit smoking” I replied, but she said “no You were right, and I was joking Just because you look so low You got keys, but...

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The snow falls white in Norway just like anywhere else in the world. The snow falls white in Norway like the smoke from a cigarette. The blue mists lap at coat tails only in a self-portrait in Norway. Pale brown eyes shine, surprised to see you only in a self-portrait in Norway. One hand holding time itself, slipping. One hand held firmly in the...

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Who have I painted this for This reflection of my core My introspection wonders back An injection of epiphany It drifts from me like smoke Suddenly aware I see Nothing that looks like clarity In the shadows I am pondering A stillness caught by candlelight If I stop watching you paint me Will myself in frame then cease to be The quiet trickles down like falling...

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