Long Cigarettes Poems
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(This is something different. Playing around and having some creative fun. One word per line, three lines per stanza. What do you think? Tear it apart and share your thoughts, opinions and criticisms. Thanks)
Another
Work
Day
Alarm
Shower
Coffee
Husband
Wife
Goodbye
Driving
Car
Work
Neighbor
Wife
Bedroom
Coffee
Sex
Cigarettes
Forgetting
Husband
Laptop
Taking
Off-ramp
Next
Crawling
Traffic
Congested
Turning
Car
Around
Driving
Home
Again
Parking
Driveway
Home
Panicking
Wife
Disbelief
Hiding
Neighbor
Closet
Approaching
Husband
Door
Greets
Husband
Door
Kisses
Wife
Entry
Smelling
Husband
Cigarettes
Smoke
Wife
Doesn’t
Searching
Husband
Suspicious
Increasing
Husband
Anger
Backyard
Cigarettes
Found
Questioning
Husband
Livid
Denies
Wife
Tears
Investigating
House
Yelling
Following
Wife
Pleading
Searching
Bedroom
Threatening
Approaching
Husband
Closet
Intercepts
Husband
Wife
Pushing
Wife
Floor
Tearing
Wife
Hysterics
Opening
Husband
Closet
Standing
Neighbor
Closet
Pleading
Wife
Tears
Holding
Husband’s
Pistol
Trembling
Neighbor’s
Hands
Infuriated
Husband
Roars
BANG
BANG
BANG
Ringing
Ears
Smoke
Hysterical
Wife
Crying
Stumbling
Husband
Floor
Closing
Neighbor
Husband
One
Head
Shot
Pooling
Blood
Floor
Bleeding
Husband
Dead
Shot
Own
Gun
Sharing
Husband’s
Bed
Adultery
Wife
Whore
Coward
Neighbor
Murderer
Scarlet
Wife
Accessory
Awaits
Prison
Both
(Based on a true story. This happened a few blocks from my previous residence. I took some creative liberties with the story, names are fictional.)
She's there when you don't want her
bossing you around
But when you really need her
she's just flown out-of-town
She's quite opinionated
you wouldn't call her shy
When you haven't asked her
she's apt to criticize
She visits every summer
arriving with no warning
Thinking she'll surprise you
at two or so in the morning
She's full of idiosyncracies
despises all your pets
Be sure to serve her turtle soup
keep her stocked with cigarettes
This year though is different
she's not leaving for ten weeks
Good thing you're God-fearing
you'll just turn the other cheek
I was one of the cool set,
navy blue duffle coat, scarf around
my neck, seated at a table
in Pepe's Coffee Lounge
discussing Baudelaire
and T.S. Eliot and the demise
of the political elites.
The conscription ballot hung
over our heads helmeted
in a flowering of uncombed hair
in the winter of 1966.
We thought the world was about
to tip, that the old regime
was coughing its last
on Craven A and Camel cigarettes.
Booze was cheap and jobs
chased us down the street.
In a hundred buried silos,
annihilation was just a push
of a button away.
We partied hard beneath
the threat of that mushroom cloud.
We're old now, sit under the cloud
of our own thoughts, replaying
scratchy, worn out tracks
retrieved from the sleeves
of our neural LP's.
What we tore down back then
has been replaced with more
sinister demons that eat away
at the collective soul.
In the end, everything
is just reabsorbed.
Some of us still frequent
coffee shops and discuss
Baudelaire and T.S. Eliot,
still write poetry,
shed a tear
at the melancholic beauty
of a setting sun.
Ride with me on my time machine to a different time and place
Return with me and let me see if I can put a smile upon your face
To the days of AM radio and the TV was black and white
To lying in a grassy field and counting stars at night
Popcorn and soda in the balcony at a Saturday matinee
Parades led by the High School Band on Decoration Day
Dressing up and going door to door on the night of Halloween
Cigarettes rolled in your shirt, pretending to be James Dean
Pep rallies before the football games, everybody stand and cheer
Going in the woods with your friends at night, sharing a quart of beer
That feeling inside, turning red, when she smiled at you at the dance
Wanting to kiss her goodnight, but you were afraid to take a chance
Playing chase tag at night in the neighborhood, hiding behind a tree
Holding hands with your first steady, so all your friends could see
Medicine Show at the end of town in a giant canvas tent
Saving pennies for a rainy day, fasting on candy for Lent
Going for a Sunday ride with Mom and Dad in the family car
Playing in the yard at night, putting lightning bugs in a jar
Drag racing on that long stretch of road, Chevy was hard to beat
Stealing peaches from a neighbor’s tree, always seemed so sweet
Riding bikes all over town, never knowing the meaning of fear
Identifying cars by their tail lights, make and model and year
News and Stooges at the theatre before the movie starts
Valentine’s day I love you written on tiny candy hearts
Easter bonnets and picking flowers for Mom on Mother’s Day
Opening day at the community pool the last weekend in May
Sock hop in the auditorium, collar up, trying to play it cool
Meeting friends at the usual place, everyday after school
Six for a quarter on the juke box, music that would move your soul
Return with me now to those glory days and the birth of rock and roll.
The heart disease would be his final fate
His smoking cigarettes had brought him low
Only a short time before he would go
She tried to care for him in his final hour
In delirium he would pull off his clothes
Walk about the house totally exposed
In this sad state he went to sleep somehow
All night long she slept a sweet sound sleep
He's found Gripping a pull-up bar in death
He held on for dear life even though deceased
What sight did he face in that final hour
Based on truth...
Revision
Death Grip
The heart disease would be his final fate
His smoking three packs a day had brought him low
‘Twas a short time before his death would come
In delirium he would pull off his clothes
Walk about his body totally exposed
In this sad state he went to sleep somehow
His wife slept a sweet sound sleep next to him
She awakened to this grief filled sight
The death angel came during the night
Death grabbed him while he held on for dear life
What sight/s did he see before he did go
Invisible
Often I will stand erect, a stood up smiling face
Reaching for the meanings, only longing but to trace
Full in view, invisible, as empty glances come
Still, I can not see myself; I’m blinded by the sun
What features lie about this broken painted piece of glass
Accepted deep within the realms as desperate feelings pass
Shattered in the eyes of none that take the time to hear
Foggy misted attributes a’ clinging crystal clear
That mirror with its gilded frame, hangs crooked on the wall
Creviced breach of promises that loudly ring the call
Reflections of a face I have not seen in many years
Answers lost in what these lines do fashion of the fears
Am I here, I ask of eyes now found to stare right through
My hand before my face does not obstruct my cautioned view
Existence, does it brew the leaves, so relevant the tea
Challenging the truth a’ swirl within this cup I see
Tomorrow may just find that I have all but disappeared
Lost amongst the wanderers of voided silent cheers
Will they still remember me as someone they have known
Crying at the window panes of tortured teardrops shown
Or merely the forgotten in the mass of needless sighs
Nothing but a figment that did never grace their eyes
Tossed about as ashes from the cigarettes they hold
Invisible, and left alone, to wither in the cold
Written for the Invisible Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Lewis Raynes
Mom and dad tried to raise us kids right,
tucked us into bed early each night,
taught us we should always say a prayer,
because the devil lurked everywhere...
That the Good Lord would keep us safe,
no matter what problems we faced,
that He'd watch over us from above,
that a forgiving heart, He'd always love,
But I didn't care, try or see why,
I'd been told the right ways to live by,
and the devil kept on closing in,
that's when all my problems begin,
I ran the streets real late at night,
learned real quick how to fight,
Mom and dad got so uptight,
me coming home at morning light,
I really started messing up at school,
thought that I was just too cool,
and didn't need to live by any Golden Rule,
My oh my, was I a fool,
And that's when more problems begin,
as the devil lurked around every bend,
but I didn't care or reason why...
as I stared the devil in his eye,
I started smoking pot and cigarettes,
through all the coughing, choking regrets,
shooting dice and making bets,
stealing things to pay my debts,
Then I started drinking whiskey and beer,
skipping school, I had no fear,
the devil had me in high gear,
but then I recalled, God was always near,
Yes, the Good Lord opened both of my eyes,
and rescued me from a certain demise,
through all of my past sin and pain,
He's with me watching over me again,
Mom and dad tried to raise us kids right,
tucked us into bed early each night,
as I keep their reminders safe in prayer,
I also pray for everyone, everywhere.
The best of years
in a side room where things are put to be used later but never will
there is an old “brother” typewriter gathering dust, bought a day
I felt like Mike Spillane, drinking whisky and smoking cigarettes
while writing rapidly about the hidden crime world of Liverpool.
I went into pubs where the gangsters are supposed to hang out
and were met by people buying me pints of beer and telling jokes.
Then, the word processor came along, spelling was not a burden.
Yes, I know, I sold out for a better life; I miss the tapping sound
Pure nostalgia I wrote a poem of love, the one who disappeared
In wider and wider circles, I walked till she was smoke and mirror.
One day I will take the “brother” out and try to locate her.
This happened to a friend, i`m glad I was there to help her.
It`s 3 o`clock
It`s three o`clock in the morning......where the hell do you think you`re going?
Oh, don`t tell me that crap. That`s crap.
I know you`re going to meet her.
Maybe I should come and greet her myself.
It`s three o`clock in the morning......get back into bed.
We`ll do all the things that make your face turn red.
You know your my baby, so get back into bed.
It`s three o`clock in the morning.....you`re pissing me off.
You don`t need cigarettes or something to drink.
You think I`m stupid and don`t know what you`re doing?
It`s three o`clock in the morning.....I`ll lock your ass out.
You better believe me without any doubt.
Well, if you think that you`re gonna leave.
You better grab your stuff and take it all.
Cause it won`t be here when you think you`re coming back.
It`s three o`clock in the morning.....and you walked out the door.
I know where you`re going,
You`re going to see that whore.
But don`t even think of coming back.
It`s seven o`clock in the morning.....there`s a knock at the door.
You can`t get in, it`s double locked.
Your clothes are on the step.
It`s seven o`clock in the morning.....this will never happen again
Just take your stuff and go.
Don`t bother me again.
Form:
As I dry my spoon covered in tears,
I wish I had known you for years.
I'll drink your coffee until it disappears,
Or until the jar completely clears.
It is sinking in, I'll never see you again.
I'll always remember you, my new friend.
I thought our fun times would never end.
I always liked your own kind of zen.
As much as I know you are with the Lord,
I grieve your absence, miss your presence.
I let my bowl soak like my face in essence,
Covered by tears, silent like a broken chord.
Odd things happened, a lighter appeared,
Out of nothing, found cigarettes somewhere,
Today, your kettle is full of water that cooled,
But I know, your spirit was showing its wear.