I am invisible because for what I do don’t matter,
I’m like smoke I appear and then I’m gone never to be seen again,
The people who knows me doesn’t care,
They want my wisdom because I’m the broken one,
The one who has been to hell and back,

please give feedback
Seema 4d

The smoky serpent rises
Above the heads of some
The sight hurts my eyes
It knows, it's not welcome

I cough and I choke
As it enters the atmosphere
My breathing gets heavy
For the deadly cancer, I fear

It stinks as I cover my nose
Second-hand smoking is at worse
Awareness by the educated people
They are the ones who ride this horse

So much to eradicate this demon
But fail to exile the makers
Putting awareness on the packets
Only lures and leads more smokers

It controls the people like a God
No matter what approach you take
The roll glows in between the lips
And the serpent is released in the lake...


"serpent is released in the lake..." this line means that the smoke is released in the air.

Smoking/second-hand smoking is injurious to health.

floating smoke in the summer air
drifting along then dissipates.
the pounding in a head,
vessels pulsing and constant movement.
fingers dancing across a keyboard, to
incorporate a checklist of knowings and
to-be-knowns -
the insecurities of new scenery
mile marker after mile marker
and you’re happy, but irresolute.

someone tripped over the cord again,
yanked it out and dragged it away

a moment, and a guarantee
let’s look and see, to be sure there’s something more
than a simple crank of a machine, grown
rusted and unmanageable over years
I’m tracing back,
looking for something
I think I missed it.
these fingers that hold my wrist
and suggest
“please, let me assist”
you know what’s best.

how by chewing wildflowers
til your tongue turns numb because
you're enamoured by the way it sounds
when you slur your words.
your teeth turn black and
when you smile all i see is
pips and petals stuck between your teeth.
oh you're so pretty.
you're a real loose cannon, tendrils
tethered to every orifice and
every breath smells a little more
like the grim reaper is sleeping
in your mouth. i can see he's
making quick work of your gums.
but it works.
better that than he move into your chest
or burrow into pockets of fat
in your head.

On a stone slab with a sheet,
I'm hot and rotting,
like a carcass boiling in the August sun.
There's no light but a dimly lit candle,
all the way across the room,
flickering in and out of consciousness,
very much like myself.
I open a window,
the breeze is hot.
I open my head,
it's steaming hot.
Wind whips and snaps,
blowing out that last candle,
the flame relinquishes light.
Now it breathes new life,
a steady smoke stream into the black night.
It's hot,
smokey and hot,
clouded like my head,
like my thoughts,
out the window,
like my head,
like my thoughts.

Copyright Barry Pietrantonio
Zoie Jackson Aug 8

My mom always told me
Don't light that Zoie
You don't know who you'll be
You might ruin your fantasy

The spark from that lighter
Could put out the spark in your heart

But I lit it mom
It tasted like jade
I felt the edge
I may not live to 99
But I know what pink tastes like
How marb burns faster
Camel slightly slower

That spark from the lighter
Erupted a spark in my mind

I'm free
You're no longer part of me
You tore my seams

It singed them back together

I'm independent
An individual

Pink No.9
I've been set free

The lighter burned your ties to me

The Ghost Aug 7

I watch as my life breaks into more and more pieces,
I try to glue it back together but it only brakes further,
And as I watch it break I also see it starts to burn and go up in flames,
I try to cling on to every last bit,
I inhale the smoke only to realize that it’s gone and I’m on my own,
Alone with the bitter taste in my mouth from the smoke,

please give feedback I want to know what I can improve
DF Aug 6

You're like a smoke detector.
A smoke detector without batteries.

You're supposed to warn me, protect me, save me...
You're supposed to be there before the flames engulf me.

But a smoke detector without batteries is only there for show.
Because by the end of the blaze...

I'm already a pile of rubble.

{df - 03/16/17-}

Torsten Tim Aug 5

Ash filling these delicate dandelion lungs
Smothering your beautiful eyes and smokey smile
A romantic tragedy
Falling more and more in love with you.

We got in the car
And I said “head east”
He turned the car towards the desert
No questions asked

We wind through the smoke filled streets
While he pierced through me

Always joking that
He’d never be good enough
I laughed it off
Like he had any idea

Letting my eyes drift through the whirling
Sleep deprivation that

Feeling him provides
                                     Living provides

                                                                     Wanting to escape
                                                                      Always abides

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