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 Feb 1 Max Vale
badwords
Stained are teeth, and fingers yellow,
Softly whispered lies we keep.
Smoke unfurls in breath so mellow,
Promising but sinking deep.

Coiling tendrils, soft and clever,
Lull the mind in fleeting grace.
Cinder ghosts that warm, yet sever,
Leave their embers on the face.

Every spark—a pledge unwinding,
Every drag—a weight we bear.
Sworn to comfort, yet confining,
Clinging to a thinning air.
Nicotine is a tightly structured, lyrical poem that explores the tension between fleeting comforts and the greater aspirations we often neglect. Using nicotine as both a literal and metaphorical device, the poem examines the small indulgences we cling to—despite knowing their cost—drawing a parallel to the broader human tendency to accept self-deception for the sake of temporary relief.

Through vivid imagery of smoke, stained fingers, and fading embers, the poem evokes a sense of quiet resignation, underscoring the slow erosion of will beneath a comforting but insidious habit. The rhythmic AB meter reinforces the hypnotic cycle of desire and consequence, mirroring the way these comforts lull us into complacency.

At its core, Nicotine is a confrontation—a mirror held up to our daily rationalizations, asking whether we truly seek change or merely the illusion of control. The introspective tone invites readers to reflect on their own vices, however small, and consider what they may be sacrificing in the name of fleeting ease.
the blue sky is laughing
-not an unreasonable title for
a biography

remembering the past
can be contencious-
henry ford said history is bunk

more or less..
we just forget from moment to
moment..
 Feb 1 Max Vale
kel
idling
 Feb 1 Max Vale
kel
twinkling, sparkling...
the night sky is bustling
tints of silver mingling
fragments of memories dwindling
fingers tingling
walking and cobbling
a nostalgic feeling
as i stopped, idling.
i sound like a grandma ;-;
Is tomorrow enough?
It has to be,
Today is almost gone you see,
Yet here I linger,
Alone at last,
My memories repeat the past,
The moon does rise,
Still I am inspired,
Embracing my muse,
Thou I am tired,
In the dark
I smoke,
I wait for the day
I will meet tomorrow….
Unafraid
©B L Costello 2016
I feel so small,
yet so do the stars,
when seen from afar,
they shine through the scars.

And now I feel better.....
 Dec 2024 Max Vale
Unpolished Ink
Winter has decorum
unlike his sister Spring,
he is slow and ponderous
but she's a giddy thing
 Dec 2024 Max Vale
n
ghosts between
 Dec 2024 Max Vale
n
lost in the static of the stars
searching for any bit of shine
maybe a twinkle, maybe a sparkle
anything that’ll stop the stagnancy

trapped and gasping for air
stuck taking in the atmosphere  
watching everything fade away
trying so hard just stay alive

surrendering all our should be’s
tearing cables until they break
leaving all those stars behind
forgetting all that glows between

trying not to cry -
while letting all hope die.

-
astronauts fall too
 Oct 2020 Max Vale
Shane
Through my window
Lies an old bark
Chopped away, used up
For flames long cold.

The rain is useless.
The sunshine a memory.
The damp black dirt
The only hope it knows.

Just roots remain
Sinking into Nothingness,
A pale faded oak
Turning grey and ******.
Cracked and wrinkled,
Scarred and blunt.

It doesn't move with the Wind
Or offer shelter and
Reprieve.
It just wants to rot away
Before tomorrow comes.

But each night,
This old bark stares
Back through my window...
Waiting with me.

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