Short Ashtray Poems

a silhouette
on a silver ashtray:
cigarette's...

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My tongue became an ashtray for your venom....

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sitting on
the desk
was a
self
made
paper 
ashtray
origami
or not...

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tossing butts to wind
planet earth seemingly
one big ashtray



posted on July 16, 2018...

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An ashtray full of cigarettes,
A room full of smoke.
A life full of strain,
A heart full of hurt....

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Cigarette butts pressed into the ashtray.
Yellow fingers from nicotine. 
Wrinkled face!
Squeezed inside!
No passion!
No life !
Drown in misery ......

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White and orange,
Poorly glazed.
A moment forever,
Sealed in clay.

It was my gift to you,
For nervous fingers.
It you've long forgotten,
With me its presence lingers....

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Cigarette butts pressed into the ashtray.
 Yellowed fingers from nicotine.
Prematurely aged face,
Wrinkled.
Squeezed inside.
No passion.
Without life.
Drown in his own misery ......

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2 sweet cups of tea 
Wash sad words
Remnants beyond
Ashtray holds
Metamorphosed memories
That are never forgotten 
6 ears funnel and keep
The sounds that make
And keep us who we are
By recounting encounters
Lived and held close....

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I'm an addict!
I have been for years.
Dying from it
is one of my fears.
The thing that I mostly hate,
is feeling my health
deteriorate.
The nicotine stains
and ashtray breath,
bring me ever closer
to death.
On my death bed
I'll probably say...
Pass me my fags
and an ashtray....

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Corner Office


Unlike his peers
his office holds
no photo of a wife
no indication that he has 
fathered five
and probably
will father more.
There’s a silver ashtray, though,
and a tinkling chandelier  
and carpeting 
his wife would like
soars across the floor.


Donal Mahoney...

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A half-full bottle of scotch
stands in the middle of a stool,
as the wind blows away the cigar
ashes away from the ashtray

Besides the stool,
a king-size bed carries the weight
of a man holding a cigar on his mouth,
planning who the next victim will be;
a person who is stopping at nothing
to destroy his drug empire...

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i used to have a grey bear that i sat on as a chair. 
   
 he was so good natured waiting for me on the back
 porch just to the left of the ashtray and recycling bin.

 i can rembember just sitting there on that old 
bent gray chair that i called bear.

drinking deschutes brewery dry and
 eating expensive cheese....

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Gold dust glittered in the moonlight,
as it spread far and wide. The world looked
like an ashtray, as it collected magic
from the moonlight. 
"Why is so much magic happening this time?!"
my daughter asked.
She was really excited;
I was really terrified.
My realistic mind wasn't ready to be shaken
by the charm of magic....


#Photo 2...

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c ancer waiting to happen
i nhaling all kinds of carcinogens
g etting unhealthy lungs and high blood pressure
a lways have breath like an ashtray
r eally not the price to pay
e verybody hates your smell of smoke
t ar in the lungs is no joke
t asting cigarettes in a mouth is so gross
e ven your kids hate the smell
s o quit smoking your life away...

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The darkness shatters with an array of color.  Brilliant
reds, oranges and yellows reaching out of the torches to
lick the blackness off the trees.  Animals running to 
escape searing messages from people who have since
hidden away.  Another few thousand acres destroyed
because the dried Autumn leaves were used as an
ashtray for a passing motorist....

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Wrinkled, old, and fat -- she's very.
Ashtray eyes and skin is hairy,
but watches over her gray lover.

While her lover lying, dying,
smiling at her begged: "No crying,
for the decades fast flew while loving you.”

“No life could have been better spent,
than with you in this firmament.
No time for sorrow, I’m gone tomorrow.”



November 1, 2019...

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Betsy Winters

  I try drawing you from  old memories
  but can't get your eyes right. I don't see
  the body that destroyed my earnest vows.
  I can't see your warm young breasts and
  nipples that grew so hard by my caress.
  I can't see us dancing naked in the dark.
  I wish I'd kept the photos. I cremated us
  in an ashtray and I can't see us anymore....

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I finish my day with a nicotine high, and I find myself staring at the stars in the sky, thinking of him, thinking of the ghosts, of lips together and waves on the coast. Wet rocks and liqueur shots, driving fast, avoiding the cops. Every flick of my lighter is a memory, and every stump of a cigarette butt is another three. Death may be coming, but at least I'm happy....

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Half empty bottle,
Half empty ashtray,
Cigarette burning,
Thoughts turning,
TV on,
Crowds, panic,
Someone is running,
Someone is crying.
World seems on fire,
Faces in horror,
Bombs going off,
People with guns,
Faith in ruins,
Life under terror,
World seems so small,
Danger so real,
Another day another way,
To live and to die,
Some have more time,
Others ran out....

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After Heaven® and jail and the flute player's musing

black-clad skin-bright girls whisk'd graphite-cool

and titanium-tight when night

turned no more moon-burned tears

to diamond-light


sun sunk broke

under science and hope and

then she spoke

rushing ashtray

and empty glass away

staining perfection with her golden fears

tareing me in another useless abusing...

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A fog of  silence
Invaded my 
Table
For couple dead hours
the cafeshop
Looks like a dezerted temple
the server is bored with his long
lasting bordom
A Lady
came across my table
Her eyes were firing
At mine
She said
“Beautiful night?”
“Is it?”
I was taking by sharping my pencil 
Against the concrete slab
She dumped her cigarette
In my ashtray
And added “Have a good night”...

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We both know
what's coming next
a lust filled night
sex and cigarettes

smoke rising from the ashtray
so erotically
while you tempt and tease
slowly seducing me

so deep do we inhale
drawing in every scent
moving in a sensual rhythm
until we lay together spent

one craving satisfied
another has arrived
we're searching for a light
sex and cigarettes
another lust filled night...

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She's choking on blood clots 
over the moon
her mind has gone wondering and 
it won't be back soon.

She's talking to angels 
under the sea
her windy expression 
is causing a breeze.

She's purple mixtures
of all that's not good,
her shape isn't changing
i don't think that it could.

She walks with the devil 
and flies with the birds.
Her mouth is an ashtray
and she's ashing her words....

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as if I didn't know it was you
after all this time
becoming nothing inside of me
I'm tired of carrying your leftovers
sabotaging my victories
you who saddened my planets
look up there the missiles strolling
already looking for people like us
look there among your memories
there must be something that justifies us
a damn happy breakfast
after absence
two or three tears
and an ashtray full of goodbye...

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