Rebellion at the fingertips...
Is every Mao-suited Chinese man a wannabe beatnik?
Even the anti-hero unknowingly conforms to a borrowed script
succoured by allure.
Exhaled ethereal silver circles of thought,
while plotting...
Ritual rhythms at the Café de Flore,
stillness and motion in retro contrast.
A cowboy in cool contemplation
draws deep,
leaving footprints in the dust.
Dapper smoking lion has a cough that shakes the room
The nicotine wafting out of his pores gives a little zoom
His hoarse cough is enough to scare a vampire bat way
I cannot be here much longer, I cannot bear to stay
At
The end
Of some street
Whose name is lost,
We watch the rain fall
And exhale our worries.
The coffee is always fresh,
The cigarette smoke lingering
As the weight of the day falls away;
"What town are you from? What brings you 'round here?"
And such questions are asked leisurely,
Since we'll forget when we depart.
This transient place and all
The lost souls who come through,
They'll flee from our thoughts
When we feel we
Can stand on
Our own
Feet.
childhood memory
grandpa smoked all his life
throwing butts in yard
lucky strikes he loved
and a beer on occasion
that's a farmer's life
What a wonderful world,
a great time to be alive.
Time to spin and twirl,
and celebrate life.
I haven't felt like this,
in such a long time.
Lately I've been lonely,
Just passing the time.
I sit in my room and hide,
swimming through,
the thoughts in my mind.
I've hidden away for 22 years.
I guess I never could control my fears.
Afraid of everything that moves,
Especially my peers.
Afraid to be judged,
afraid to make love.
Afraid to spill my secrets,
So i just pack up and run.
But right now I feel like,
I could fly like a dove.
Keep my eyes straight ahead,
Don't expect,
the smoking gun.
I was fourteen.
August smog pressed through the mesh of my bedroom window.
Through the grimy grid, I watched them in the backyard.
“Sign the papers.”
He was smoking a Belmont.
The smoke left his mouth
and hung between them.
He flicked the cigarette toward the house.
I watched the ember burn and die.
Passing the joint like a question,
No hurrying in the asking.
The Buddha giggles with no sound.
A coil of cloud curls on his lip.
Embers fall, like minutes
No one is really counting.
The joint is getting shorter and shorter,
Preaching impermanence like scripture.
Breathe.
Let the world unfasten.
Breathe again.
Even desire arches.
He tells me, nothing.
That is everything.
His silence thick like resin,
Rolls from our lungs.
The smoke ascends, not looking for anything.
It drifts.
It just is.
This is the ending without an end.
The flame goes out.
Enlightenment remains.
Something wonderful happened two years ago.
On January 1, 2024, I gave up all forms of tobacco.
I've been smoke-free two years today.
I decided to throw my cigarettes away.
I also haven't used chewing tobacco or snuff.
I decided to abandon tobacco, I'd had enough.
I've been smoke-free for two years and I'm glad.
Cigarettes cause lung cancer and that's very sad.
Two years ago today, I said goodbye to tobacco.
If somebody offers you a cigarette, please say No.
the book was smoking hot
you could see the gray whirls escaping
I wondered at the danger of opening it
laughed when I saw the fierce dragon
someone had done such a job on this novel
the head was intricately carved
she had scalloped fingers and flame-like wings
I was entranced and enchanted
who climbs out of a book like this?
she was trying to whisper something to me
I put my ear a little closer but was wary
after all, who wants their ear on fire?
My Aunt Ruby was a bingo fanatic.
Every Friday she'd get her hair done ~
a visit to the 'Strands To Go' salon.
She left feeling like a graceful queen.
Friday nights were sacred at the bingo hall.
She'd pull out her money from her purse
and buy as many bingo cards as possible
then head to her favourite table to wait.
She'd light a cigarette to calm the nerves
and say a little prayer hoping to win big.
Someone had to win the jackpot ~ why not her.
She prepared her dabber and braced herself.
The bingo caller was always right on time.
Her cards always ready and perfectly aligned.
She waited with bated breath for numbers called
loud and clear as they possibly could be.
And so it was that every week on Friday,
Aunt Ruby spent her time doing what she loved best:
smoking, dabbing, and chatting among other devotees
... even coming home odd times with some cash winnings.
AP: 1st place 2025
You are like smoking a cigarette
I am addicted to your kisses and hugs
At three am at the park
Meanwhile I touch your smooth skin
And hear your beautiful voice.
Smoking my last pack
I must say this every day
I have a headache
you're laying back and toking
is that a funny cigarette you're smoking?
~ looking suspiciously calm and mellow
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: 3rd place 2025
Leaning on a lampposts pole
Cigarette in hand
I only smoke when I'm down
I'll smoke any brand
Okay, this is it!
No more cigarettes for me
Time for me to quit!
A truckful of drunks
half-skunked boozers
gun racks in the back
unlucky losers
pulled up to the pumps
for a gallon or two
only high octane
tanked would do
then one had a bad itch
he started to scratch
wanted a smoke
and when he lit a match
the explosion was heard
three miles away
to arrive alive
do what they say
'Don't drink and drive'
and yes it's true
it could ruin your day
smoking is bad for you
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