Long Puff of smoke Poems
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There seems to be silence within the serene night,
yet those indoors have eternal cries of unspoken fright.
One man drowns in chocolate, shamefully eying his hips,
as the woman next door kisses the hundredth man’s lips.
Two floors below, one screams out in pain,
as fatal anger has won the game.
The killer, shadowed, makes no remark,
but watches the blood flow, immersed in his soul of eternal dark.
Three doors across, an elderly man sits, rejected and broke,
hiding his face with tendrils of smoke.
His trusty cigarettes always at the ready,
when his finances where never steady.
Another flight down, a woman drowns in her agony sip by sip,
her life seems to slip by like a commercial blip.
Yet all she can think
is that her marriage is on the brink.
Before she fades into the night of another day,
all she remembers is throwing her wedding ring away.
Traveling down to the ground floor,
the troubles seem to equal more.
A woman tosses about in her anxious bed,
while her worries do pirouettes in her head.
Try to let the past and present go,
but the future looms like a horror show.
Outside, in the darkness, a piercing light shines
as a moth flutters by, on the still air it climbs.
It seems this beacon, as bright as the sun,
new hope has just begun.
The moth bangs itself against the glass,
trying to reach glory at last.
Yet no matter how much its antennae bend,
or wings grow fragile and not able to mend,
it seems like the only thing to do
to deal with its feelings, old and new.
Until it steps back and looks at the light
realizing that harming itself won’t set anything right.
With the last of its strength, ending its plight,
the moth flies off into the night.
At this moment, the man decides to rid his house of fat-packed glory,
as the woman on the ground floor takes a deep breath, changing her story.
The killer at large turns himself in,
the end to his years of sin.
The woman pours the bottles of wine down the drain,
finally she can remember her name.
The elderly man exhales his last puff of smoke,
the grueling memories no longer prod and poke.
And the woman kissing her hundredth man
lets him go, heart no longer sinking in deadly quicksand.
The light of dawn finally breaks,
and the darkness of the mind no longer takes
away from the people’s lives
as the light of hope is now by their sides.
Remember the story
of Billy Goats Gruff?
The troll under the bridge,
and all of that stuff?
If you liked that old story
it's all good and well,
but it isn't at all
the troll tale I will tell.
Now, Trolius Troll
was a timorous soul;
A more timid troll
you never shall see.
He lived in a hole
in the base of the bole,
(that is, the trunk)
of a turpentine tree.
Young Trolius Troll,
I ask you to note,
is a strict vegetarian;
he does not eat goat.
You might not believe me,
but, begging your pardon,
he eats only produce
from his vegetable garden.
One day, after harvesting
some of his crop,
with a basket of turnips,
with some carrots on top,
he strode up the path,
just as proud as could be,
toward his home in the trunk
of the turpentine tree.
Then, outside the door
of his pine tree abode,
was a sight that made
Trolius Troll drop his load.
There, with a chainsaw
and a double-bit ax,
stood a brawny, black bearded,
blue eyed lumberjack.
With his feet wide apart
on the green, grassy ground,
the lumberjack looked
the troll's tree up and down--
Then, laying the ax
on a moist, mossy bank,
he gave the saw's start rope
a sudden, sharp yank.
With a white puff of smoke
and an ear splitting sound,
the saw shattered the silence
for acres around.
The lumberjack stepped
to the tree's sturdy base
with a smile of delight
on his black-bearded face.
Then, the usually timorous
troll gave a shout,
and, pounding his chest,
he went leaping about.
With a wild snarl of rage
and a blood chilling wail,
the once timid Trolius
charged up the trail.
The brave lumberjack
was stricken with awe.
He turned from the tree,
and dropped the chain saw.
Through the ferns and the bushes
the tree feller ran.
and he never returned
to the forest again.
And so ends a story,
that some might find droll,
of a timid and timorous
tree dwelling troll.
But its message is clear,
it’s as clear as can be:
You may monkey about with Trolius, friend,
but you’d better not mess with his tree.
Form:
It was a party of fleas who dropped some tea into the sea
Created a baby that left its mommy
Now there is an elephant and donkey in the room
So, lets asked who’s the bigger ***?
A spark, a flare, lighting a camel, an affair
Puff of smoke gone, what went wrong?
Bully the pulpit, who’s the culprit
Line drawn and divided by two
A state of iron bars but let’s call it a zoo
Divided into a system of them vs you
Don’t lose your autonomy
Though everyone is still just a monkey
Collectively a swarm of angry bee’s
The brilliants of hatred and judgment
The embellishment establishment pageant
Yesteryear's of days past are today's fears
Financiers, volunteers as November nears
Comparisons, divisions of wealth’s occupations
Frictions, contradictions, comedians
Who will be the next king of the jungle?
Both proclaiming to be the blissful angel
Tis the mating seasons bestial battle
Birdies tweets all about it on the their social
Scandal! Scoundrel! Oh, look there’s a squirrel
The eternal feral quarrel circle
The apex creatures are very territorial
For the king or queen, gerrymandering
The two-party system is the grand pyramid scheme
Bunch of ***holes looking up and bunch of **** looking down
Kiss up, gallop, gossip, stirrup, who will win the crown?
In this cage, enrage, what’s on the front page?
Who’s saying what about minimum wage?
Outrage about an issue? The cockatoos will throw a horseshoe
Here, eat this grass, here, pray at mass, or don’t
They will provide an antidote
Cheer, this one is such a deer, so sincere, so clear
Ok, the political evolution will find a way to prey on the economic roadway
Confusing rat race values, turn to the news and find out who will lose
Here, oats for the goats. No, the grass is greener over there
But be aware because there is a monster troll lair
Despair not of this nightmare, the election will swear to another road
The only condition for this prince is you must kiss this toad
Bam, the payload full of taxes and other critter’s pensions
Hurry up and cooked this eagle thanksgiving is awaiting
Tis the season for the hating, frustrating, debating,
Won, the elephants and donkeys parties are one hell of celebration
After-all in this zoo, the keepers and guests are laughing at you
Updated 5/14/2019
Form:
Circus Clown
Roll up! Roll up!
The circus is in town,
"Damn the weird and wonderful,
we've come to see the clown".
First, ladies and gentlemen
An amazing double-act to see,
Two fat ladies codgitating
Psychedelic Imagery.
Bearded children flying,
On a razor sharp trapeze,
Just an awesome spectacle,
As screams can only please.
For your delictation
Escape artistes tied tight,
Immersed in boiling liquid,
Horrors to delight.
Unicyclists stacked
Maybe seventeen tall,
The crowds secretly wishing
Chrome and flesh would fall.
Screams and gasps levitate
Stilted jugglers on high-wire,
Kaleidoscopic wizardry
As they breathe out rainbow fire.
Feast your eyes on the impossible,
A conjurer with no sleeves,
The audience vanishes
And still no-one believes.
A menagerie in formation,
Performing whips crack loud,
Tumbling through rings of fire,
To the delight of the beying crowd.
Midgets packed in suitcases,
Wrapped in chains and locks,
Boing! burst on laughing springs
Like a hundred Jacks in a box.
Acrobatic mystics,
Tiddly-um-tum-tum the band,
Narrow minds appreciate
The greatest show in the land.
A hush befalls the bigtop,
Then drumrolls, the shouts of more,
The spectacle isn't over;
"This is what we've been waiting for!"
Into the ring Mr. Ridicule,
The funniest man you'll see,
Comedy and tragedy,
How sad.......they think he's me.
His painted smile's a grimace,
The humiliation is cruel,
The taunts he wears with gratitude
For always being the fool.
Children sit in the audience
Laughing at what they fear most
Dressed in their Sunday best,
Their faces white as a ghost.
Applause, applause, applause
How hilarious his disguise,
To all the world the joker,
Inside........his heart has died.
Slapstick and squirty flowers
Are all just pies in the face,
He exits in a puff of smoke
Yet leaves no worldly trace.
The show is winding down,
Soon to be leaving town,
Memories of extravaganza
But not for the circus clown.
The flattened, browning grass
Where the big-top stood so proud,
The tombstone of a broken man,
Safe from the madding crowd.
I met a little man up on The Green
On New Year’s Eve, and he was two foot two
With quite the reddest nose I’ve ever seen
And eyes as bright as summer skies are blue
‘What brings you here?’ I said. He laughed and lit
A pipe, inhaled a lot and blew a cloud
Of smoke that drifted up where pigeons sit
Up high between the Christmas Lights. ‘I’m proud
To say that I’m a Moonraker’ he said
‘And every New Year’s Eve I come and chat
To ducks, and to the drunks, and to the dead
And listen to the bells. Look, there’s a bat!’
I looked and so there was. ‘You’re very small’
I said. ‘Aye, so I am’ he said, ‘but wise
And being small means not so far to fall’
He winked at me. A twinkle in his eyes
Danced like a firefly. ‘And very old’
I said. ‘Aye, that as well’ he said, ‘but not
So old and bitter that my heart is cold’
He offered me his hip flask. ‘Have a tot’
‘I don’t’ I said, ‘but thank you.’ ‘Look, a cheese!’
He pointed. ‘In the water!’ ‘Isn’t that
The moon?’ I said. He laughed. A little breeze
Danced light across the Crammer and his hat
Fell off. He didn’t care. We watched it sink
Together as he sank another dram
Of moonshine. ‘Sure you didn’t want a drink?’
‘As eggs is eggs’ I said, ‘although I am
A little curious.’ ‘You wonder why
I’m here?’ ‘I do.’ ‘One question’s all you get’
‘One question?’ ‘Yes. Like why do people die
Why birds at all, or why is water wet?’
I asked him about twenty twenty one
He thought a moment. ‘Doesn’t do to be
Too curious’ he said. ‘Beneath the sun
Is nothing new. You’ll have to wait and see’
‘That’s it?’ ‘It is’ he chuckled. Midnight struck
St. James’s bells, and ‘Look!’ and then a swan
Did swim across the moon and then, ‘Good luck!’
He cried, and in a puff of smoke, was gone
I sat there for a bit. A little weird
But then it is Devizes. Nothing new
He came along, and then he disappeared
As all the years are predisposed to do
Then I went home to bed. And when I woke
The sun was up, I made a cup of tea
And wrote down every word that he had spoke
‘Is nothing new. You’ll have to wait and see...’
© Gail Foster 30th December 2020
My life has been one enormous charade,
A make believe game,
A play I have played,
A story I tell myself, day and night,
Hidden from myself, out of sight,
A game of hide and seek,
While searching for something else to eat.
The game,
A cosmic game,
A comic game,
A bad joke,
A puff of smoke,
A laugh,
A bath,
A lonely path,
The Game.
I used to take it so seriously,
Think it, feel it so real, so perfectly,
So certain I that was right,
That I lived in the light,
So convinced that I knew the rules,
So obvious I had all the tools,
That I saw the truth,
That I saw the light,
Would win the battle, win the fight.
Heard the sound of the distant drum,
Calling me to battle with the devious one.
The walls of my ego were high and mighty,
My dreams and delusions danced in front of me,
Their smooth dark surface impossible to climb,
Images I swallowed and thought were mine.
I made them alive, moving and real,
Twist and turn like a slimy eel,
Just to tell myself that I was still someone,
Playing in the game and having lots of fun,
Just to tell me and to tell you,
That I wasn't a loser,
So I wouldn’t hear the words game over.
Game over,
Check and mate,
Here's the gate,
You have to take,
Out of the Game,
The game of shame.
The game of avoiding being blue,
Of dogging the bullets they shot at you,
The atomic bomb they drop on your head,
The monsters that they put under your bed.
The game of hiding away,
Live to play another day,
Even if it's only make believe,
The prizes in plastic,
And not worth a dime,
At least I have the impression that they are mine,
At least I don't fell the pain,
The pain of shame,
In this perverted game.
So that I don't feel I'm a prisoner,
Tied to this post,
Don't even realise that I'm only a ghost,
That the truth is well hidden,
On the board of the game.
That the prizes are in plastic,
But they are shiny and new,
The paint hardly chipped,
The emptiness hardly shows through,
The laughing is loud,
The smiles are all warm and friendly,
And we are all together,
Joyful and happy.
The illusion is REAL,
And only the mad man knows,
That it's a rotten deal.
more of my poems at http://labyrinthoflies.com
I had a nightmare, 2 nights ago
After 7 hours of fighting insomnia
This nightmare was hard to bear though
It forced my heart to sink into my gut, and caused me great nausea
In this dream, it was August thirteenth
The temperature felt 70 degrees, it was bright and sunny
My arm tingled from the UV Rays and I felt relief
I was in bliss and wanted sugar so I made a wish for some honey
But as I made that wish, this dream took a quick turn
Prism-like, ominous clouds started to swarm the sky
Suddenly I wasnt outdoors anymore, causing me much discern
I breathed in through my nose to calm, so I would not cry
I was standing in the operation room at clermont hospital center
Seems I'm a scrub nurse, considered for promotion to resident
But I'm the only one at the table, no one allowed to enter
If they helped, the accountable would be everyone present
My test was to open a jar that was far from the normal
The purest golden honey was inside, but it didn't come from bees
This honey, as I was told by my cousin Taylor, afterall
Was made of happiness, and that could cure any disease
I stood there shaking wildly, Taylor trying his best to advise
He was standing on the spectator platform to my rear
Since he wasn't allowed to interact, and Taylor has always been wise
He gave me a huge grin of confidence, that rounded past his ear
Time ticked by, I struggled for 12 hours to open this jar
My knuckles on both hands were bleeding and sore
Trying to achieve my dreams I had come so far
I've wasted my chance, and now it's all broken up and done for
The timer buzzed finally. It screamed, piercing me like a wraith
Taylor faded away into a puff of smoke and I was in solitude
I laid the jar on the ground in defeat, since I had lost my faith
The dream faded away, waking me in my current foul mood
This poem is a metaphorical explanation
Of the burden I have carried for far too long, you see
This dark depressing mindset has long since been taken
Now I'm beyond help from others, only I can help me
Tuesday April 16th, 2019
She senses before she sees
The manicured nails - the elegant fingers
Holding out the hundred dollar bills - enticingly - so temptingly
A generous nights takings of busking here
In one proffered hand
She grabs at it petrified it might be an illusion
Evaporating in a puff of smoke
Fingers hold it back, teasingly
Compelling eye contact
She looks up sceptically
Dark eyes meet her aqua blues, sparking a sort of affinity
‘Eyes are the window of one’s soul’- so it is said in all sincerity
But the magnetic dark eyes of her enticer are fathomless in their intensity
His type she has encountered before - money for favours
Well she is no novice - a living after all - a girl has to make
And his generous offer rivals his devilish good looks
But she senses a darkness favouring the energy emanating
A cold shiver runs through her veins like someone just walked on her grave
Fear ripples down her spine akin to a stroking finger chilled in ice
The spell he casts foreboding
The calmness of the night has taken flight
In its haste to set the macabre scene
Mesmerising are the eyes that bore into hers
Projected thoughts furtively slip into her mind
Infiltrating it like a slithery snake
Bringing with it forbidden thoughts of desire
She falls into the inky black abyss
Succumbing to heady dark passionate conceptualization
However the chilling message is coherent
This is not a mere opportunistic one night stand
That he desires
This is more - so much more
This is taboo concupiscence unleashed
This is her life in exchange for what?
Her life for immortality?
Surely not!
Yet his eyes eloquently convey it all
The hunger so unconcealed - so transparently flagrant
To yield to darkness
Satisfying his appetite for
Death of a different nature?
Obliteration of life as she knows it to be
Tenebrous Immortality in exchange for her blood
A prelude to his finale of taking her soul
And then a metamorphosis
From Prey to Predator
Video clip -
Like a Vampire- Catrien Maxwell
The rooster crows
Heralding a new dawn
Yet sleep is beyond me
That basic human need has deserted me
Leaving me in a whirlwind of thoughts
Contemplating, scheming
For what else can I do?
Reminiscing, remembering
What else is there for me?
Musing, pondering
How else can I survive?
When all that I ever wanted,
All that I ever dreamt of
Vaporized into a noxious smoke
When all that ever contented me
Is gone in a puff of smoke
When mine nights are restless
And the nightmares keep me up
Where then can I get more dreams?
How then can I ever hope?
When I am this close to my demise
When mine existence is all but useless
How can I ever sleep?
Without the hope of ever
Holding her in my arms
How can I ever dream?
When the anticipation has grown cold
And my future looks bleak.
Why then should I sleep?
When the dreams turn to nightmares
How can I ever sleep?
Without the hope of ever seeing her smile again
Without her,
Who sang me lullabies with that soporific voice
Can I ever sleep?
Without the hope of dreaming of her
Tell me,
What is love really?
Memories?
Recriminations and regrets?
Pain? That agonizing pain?
Would that I had known,
Would I ever have loved?
Would I ever have dreamt?
Would I ever have hoped?
Mine pneuma is vexed
The questions never end
The answers are never found
And sleep is still beyond me
My eyes in the darkness,
Open to a beautiful vision
A vision of my persecutor
She whose heart I broke,
She whose pain I authored
The girl who I love so much
She whose memory gives me no respite
She whose departure has stolen my sleep,
The only one who can exorcize my ghosts
And bring back sanity to my heart
Guess I have to live with the pain
Till eternity and beyond!
Guess I have to cohabit with my memories
Till the very end of time
Guess I have to live with the hallucinations
Till she finds it in her heart to forgive me
And to love me as I always will
Guess I have to put up with the sleeplessness
Till the emotion subsides
IF IT EVER WILL!
Then I will sleep!
With flashing eyes she did enthral
as to the beat of drums she danced
a wild flamingo with clacking castanets
her wide hooped skirt was all a-swirl
Golden earrings sparkling and flashing
heels looking impossibly high as she twirls
her eyes flashing enticing messages
as the men flock to her a mocking laugh
Siren of the senses as well she knows
she taunts and teases as she grabs hold
only to push her admirer head over heels
leaving him stunned and dazed in the dirt
In a puff of smoke she vanishes from view
long rolls of drums call to her to come back
the men look in vain for her return
a soft voice enticingly calls from the shadows
Singing of long journeys to far away exotic places
of caravan wheels swishing and of horses gavotting
of smokey camp fires bristling with full cauldrons
no clue to what lies within just enticing smells
She tells of lovers she has known in distant past
entreating the men, who try their luck to no avail
she sits brushing her long raven black hair of curls
and the sparks fly giving her an ethereal appearance
The fires die low and still she has not yet chosen
it seems she is waiting for someone not now here
flashes of lightening fork across the sullen skies
and the skies open in deluges of rain and thunder
As her admirers scatter seeking shelter she laughs
spinning round and round hair flying out scattering
droplets that glisten and sparkle in pale light
at last she crumbles done to the sodden ground
A mighty flash of lightening rends the sky in half
highlighting a jet black horse rearing up high
she runs forward laughing he is here, he has come
her gypsy king, he swings her up before him and turns
As the summer storm fades the last fork shows
the two lovers high-lit on the rolling hill
then gone, gone to their secret place of tryst
she leaves lingering memories in men's minds of what might have been