Short Smoker Poems
Short Smoker Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Smoker by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Smoker by length and keyword.
“This Corona,I don’t fear”
I heard,
From my neighbor
A chain smoker
I don’t care his smoking
But Corona he’s taking
Here lie the ashes of Freddie Croaker
He’d always been a lifelong smoker!
Inspired by Contest
4/12/19
Fire in cigarettes red color
Not seeing him this at his mirror
Telling not of this to him a co smoker
That red is a signal for the danger
Steve, my dealer
Tells everyone that an
Ounce a day puts
Negativity at bay
Early morning smoker
Dawn to dusk stoner
happy 420!
Form:
Stark windswept moorland
Charred heather ...
Smoker kills wildlife
Magicicada 13 Contest
Sponsored by Maureen McGreavy
6/18/18
There once was a lovable loser
A smoker and hard-drinking boozer
Devil said, Try Mary Jane
She'll surely ease all your pain
Loser vowed ~ never to abuse her
There once was a ghost whom in life had smoked,
Four packs of cigarettes a day.
Fell asleep one night;
Awoke to a fright;
On fire was his entire estate!
You are Killing me,
I cannot breathe!
My lungs are closing.
I think I am on the verge of being no more…
Could this be my last breath of life?
I am dying all because you had too lit up!
They called him Stogie for a clear reason.
He smoked fat pipes no matter the season.
Try to take it from him.
You’ll get a smack on the chin.
To take away the cat’s vice is tantamount to treason.
two fingers hug the tobacco in cloak
lips kiss cigarette to drink fire fog
lungs dance to survive
cough laughs upon life
to health advice chain smoker is a mock
-December 03, 2019 Chattogram
(Limerick)
Batman and Robin hit the Joker
But their blow was only a croaker
The Joker hit back
But instead hit Jack
Who said "I'm glad, the Joker's an smoker!
Dorian Petersen Potter
Aka ladydp2000
Copyright@2014
09.16.2014
Untold tales
of untaken chances
Of what could
or should have been
Linger, float,
drift slow in lazy air
Like deathly
ashen, oval smoke rings
Leaving the arid
mouth and parched lips
Of this drunken,
drowsy chain-smoker.
.
the smoke from your lips
a milky way
the words you speak
stars
an endless source
of fascination
I am in love
I think
the way you craft
ideas
stories
beginning with a seed
blooming
into fantasies
and dreams
floating away
into the night
The instructions were easy.
Invent and draw a new kind of alien.
My alien was a combination between a rodent and a dragon.
I put a cigarette in its mouth and gave it black teeth.
This offended the art teacher, who was a smoker.
Ask me if I care.
His nicotine pores offend me.
I'm wondering about our secret selves -
The vegetarian smoker
The isolationist who speaks Cantonese
The soldier with the peace sign
The blue collar millionaires
The conservative who dares
The scientist who prays
The vagabond who stays
There's more to all of us than what we seem
Form:
Exit gold crisp noise
Whole winter white blanket sky
Carrot pipe smoker
Stressed humans all cloaked
A full moon mirror shimmers
Oddly naked it stands
Cold dawn miasma
Snowball friendly warfare
Magnetic eye gaze
By Shane Cogan (December, 2013)
We live our lives as if there will always be another day,
often taking advantage of those around us,
much like an alcoholic unaware of their addiction
or a tobacco smoker oblivious to the smell of smoke.
It often takes someone pointing out the changes for us
to truly see and understand our impact to things around us.
To the placid pool of my memory,
in silence, they keep drifting back,
tired tales of untaken opportunities,
of had it not been, of if and only if,
of what could or should have been.
Vividly seen through shut eyes,
thoughts float, swirl slow in lazy air
like deathly ashen, oval smoke rings
leaving the insomniac, arid mouth
of this drunken, drowsy chain-smoker.
A thread shared by many
Famous, unknown, rich, poor
You take with not a care
Life was unfair
Non smoker, stolen away
Others spared it’s fate
I would punch you in the face
I wish I could cut you in half
My mother didn't deserve you
Maybe you will take me too
But I will keep my zest for life
That is my revenge on you
6/20/19
Topic of Cancer Poetry Contest
Looking back,
my uncle was a joker...
In the bar most nights
and heavy smoker.
Coughed his way through life,
and Lady Nicotine
had no small part
to play.
She made sure she was
in the bar holding
his lighter
and drawing him on to further cigarettes.
Together they would blow
blue rings
and try to outdo the other on the sofa...
Uncle won.
9/21/2015
How much farther
can I go
into myself?
Going deeper and deeper,
I have worked myself
into a drenched, breathless mess.
Meanwhile, a bowl of rice
has been waiting for me
for quite some time.
The grains of rice
are calling out to me:
Put your faith in us, bastard.
We are the ones
who will lead you
to the footprints
of a ganja smoker,
swimming
in the blood
of jasmine flowers.
in silence they keep drifting back
to the placid pool of this memory,
tales of untaken opportunities,
of had it not been, of if only,
of what could or should have been . . .
and, vividly seen through shut eyes,
thoughts float, drift slow in lazy air
like deathly ashen, oval smoke rings
leaving the arid, insomniac mouth
of this drunken, drowsy chain-smoker...
In the cracks of the ghetto walls
the eyes of the addict bleed for more
the smoke billows through the lungs of the panhandler
thirsty for more the alcoholic quenches his thirst
and the smoker doesnt realise he is getting high
the drug dealer the underground secret service
among kings of the poor leading the rich to success
society society is this what is before our eyes
fallen and spoken for?
I'm happy to say that I quit smoking half a year ago.
It's been six months today since I last smoked tobacco.
When I was presented with the opportunity to quit, I decided to reach out and grab it.
All that I needed was some nicotine patches and faith in God to be able to kick the habit.
I quit smoking even though it's not an easy thing to do.
If you're a smoker who wants to quit, I believe in you.
. SINNER OR SAINT
Sitting at the back pew in church,
I looked to the front and beheld a familiar figure,
Is it not the drunkard of Miles street?
Is it not the smoker of all types?
He was in queue for the holy eucharist,
And his gaze fixed to the cross in the altar,
I contemplated "is he a sinner or saint"?
Let our Heavenly Father judge.
ANYABOLU IFEANYI DOMINION GENTLE
(07061816037)..