Hello, calling Sergeant Stedenko,
Stedenko, we all just want to know!
Sarge, we just breezed the "Ghanja Boys" toke,
And then we seized the "Ghanja Boys" smoke!
Hell Sarge, we all found weed by the pound!
And, not one goddamn seed could be found!
It was sticky, stinky, funky, funk!
It was stinkin' funky from their trunk!
So, then we just gagged 'em and racked 'em,
After that, we tagged 'em and stacked 'em!
We need your okay just to proceed,
Meanwhile, we'll watch as those boys just bleed!
Or, we could opt or adopt your church,
And give those boys a cavity search!
If they pass anymore gas or grass,
Guess we'll just have to firebrand their ass!
What the Hell? So what do you say, Sarge?
Cuz...we know that "today" you're in charge!
But, we'd really get a big "charge" if...
We could just take a really big whiff!
UP IN SMOKE*
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
whispers on the rails,
a lone train fades into dusk—
memories depart,
echoes of laughter linger,
in the smoke, dreams drift away.
*Note: This poem was originally published at Writer Monk in July 2025. It is my original poem
Our ceiling fan went up in smoke
But didn’t catch on fire.
It seemed okay before it broke;
The culprit was a wire.
It happened fast and we got scared;
My husband flipped the fuses.
I guess we’re never quite prepared
When we’re whom bad luck chooses.
The burning smell took hours to fade;
A new fan will replace it
With safer bulbs, yet I’m afraid
I might not quite embrace it.
I walked on the garden path,
young heart pulsating
with the cadence of love,
fostered dream of permanence
in the transient world
for being loved and possessed forever.
Times turned into an inferno,
my dreams went up in smoke,
blew away the incinerated mind,
a dislodged withered ashen leaf,
disappearing silently undiscerned,
like a drop of uncared tear.
In the ravaged desolate garden
trampling the razed flowers
in the summer of discontent,
I walked a lonely journey
with the smoldered yearning,
buried within mind’s ash debris.
That’s when searching the soul
I discovered the inner divine light,
revealing the real sense of belonging,
defined the heavenly purpose of being,
and by the grace of God I found
the devout course of life so beautiful.
__________________
January 21, 2022
Title Chosen : Up In Smoke
Contest : This Or That, Vol 9
Sponsor : Edward Ibeh
How beautiful the wedding dress she held
against her skin. How delicate its lace.
What happiness inside her heart would swell.
But now big teardrops rolled down her sad face.
Her fiancé had called that night to say
a thing most unexpected. Though he’d tried,
he simply could not find another way
than call things off. His love for her had died.
As she lay sobbing, she was unaware
a fire had started when she slept. She woke
to her alarm’s shrill sound, and out of there
she fled while her small house went up in smoke.
She sorrowed seeing everything burned down.
Her dreams are charred now like her wedding gown.
Jan. 18, 2022
for Edward ibeh's This Or That, Vol 9 Poetry Contest
Smoke billows up
as loss expunged to ashes
that crumble and crackle
in the flickering flames
that lick up all that is left.
The smoke streaks the sky
with streamers heralding
the loss of hope and dreams
in puffs and swirls
skyward.
I was five when our house went up in smoke
My dad was out of work, and we were flat broke
There was no fire department in Hico, W.Va.,
We could only stand by and watch the melee
As neighbors tried to save whatever they could,
But fire quickly swallowed up the soft pine wood
Thankfully, our grandparents could take us in
As my parents pondered how to begin again
To recover from the loss of almost everything,
For our family the fire was a grand awakening
As we learned how suddenly goods can be taken,
A belief in divine providence can also be shaken.
HONORABLE MENTION
written January 14, 2022
"Up in Smoke"
for "This or That, Vol 9" Poetry Contest
sponsored by Edward Ibeh
On a cold December night, a snowstorm
failed to stop a fire in Colorado.
And tinder-dry trees fueled a firestorm
that turned two towns into ash and shadow.
A prairie grass fire in Boulder County,
wiped out Superior and Louisville.
And folks celebrating Christmas bounty,
saw their neighborhoods reduced to landfill.
Well-over, a thousand homes got destroyed,
many others severely scorched and burnt.
And to those left homeless and unemployed,
the Marshall fire is still fresh and current.
Families watched their dreams go up in smoke,
no one smiled, no one joked, and no one spoke.
(Sonnet)
01/09/2022
This or That, Vol 9 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh
Title Chosen..."UP In Smoke"
Last year I enrolled in trendy gym
Was enthusiastic about being slim
Have to say I was intimidated
When personal trainer demonstrated.
Spandex-clad my body held in
Mirror torments this fight will win
Parked on a bicycle going nowhere fast
Five minutes later completely downcast.
Rowing machine? yes I'll have a go
This only adds to my tale of woe
Tiny dumbells that small children could lift
Somehow managed to hurt my wrist.
A class where beginners exercise
Think of McDonalds~burger and fries
This torture was expensive I'm in the red
Cannot say I'm worried will soon be dead.
All of my dreams went up in smoke
Their no refund policy dashed any hope
That was an expense could've done without
Force to face facts I'm a total copout.
This or That,
Up in Smoke
Vol 9 Poetry Contest
Sponsored
by:
Edward Ibeh
07/01/2022
Up in smoke, twice born, we live on
Lower mind falls away
We as bliss mist, love hues adorn
To rhythm divine sway
Oh hermit, know the cause
Recognise now, God’s laws
That that died, never was
Dream life joke
Up in smoke
07-January-2021
Quietus
This or That, Vol 9 Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
Writer’s block
Mind is locked
Words are stuck
No muse luck
Thoughts don’t flow
Musings slow
Rack my mind
Nothing find
Poetry
Set me free
I am lost
Notions tossed
Storm within
Causing din
Let me think
Give views ink
Want to write
It’s a fight
Feeling blue
Have no clue
Mind in knots
All my thoughts
Up in smoke
Not a joke
Where’s my muse?
Went on cruise
Ponder deep
Cannot sleep
Blank page mocks
Writer’s block.
01.07.2022
Title: Up In Smoke
For Edward Ibeh's "This or That, Vol 9" contest
All my life I have heard the phase, up in smoke. Boy did I find out what that meant, the day I ate the hot peppers. My poor mouth was on fire, it went up in smoke.
Date Written: 1/5/2022
Lady Guinevere and Sir Lancelot
Trapped in a dungeon, his help she sought --
Guinevere screamed, she yelled
But Lancelot, help withheld --
Damsels rescued, how quaint ~ This knight sold pot
The wife was just lying their stark
As a young lad puffed on a Lark
Without his pants
It took one glance
To see that her Kent was no Clark!
Children with out a nourishing coat
They where neglect and lack hope
These children don't get along, they mostly compete.
Misguided teachings gain credibility from birth
They lost the meaning of strength and it's worth
One foot in, one foot out, many fail walking about
Fables and labels in the brain, only the wisest be sane.
Children, all apart of this living scheme
A fantasy not a dream.
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