#cigar
How can you sleep at night when you live to **** and torture children?
When your sole focus and purpose is child exploitation?
How can you even breathe?
How can you drink fresh water, that doesn’t taste of blood… that doesn’t choke you?
When all you believe in is hunting down innocence hydrated from mud pools, pulling it from its bud and burning dreams to a crust, calm in your mask of nonchalance…
When the child within and the child you’ve broken - watches you perform these abhorrent acts; how does the child within not shake with terror and repulsion, and every morning that you wake try to destroy you?…
Where are they? There is no child in you…
You are bleak, worthless, worse than sadness, not even material; just the drop of a soulless heartbeat in a void that drags on a **** cigar that will eventually crumble…
For now, you will try to butcher fine lands of olive trees and **** the green…
But you won’t succeed, because you are nothing but weakness
And the distant baby hearts that you heard and shot to order, as well as all of the beautiful, loving and creative creatures that you trampled like flowers; will haunt you…
Because you will realise that you have no destination, no duty of virtue…
Just a sick parasite heart that was too empty to question evil, but why?… too late to wonder as the foul thing ravens you alive leaving breath in your pupils… and bended buds rise around your frozen inward disgust…
But don’t let me stop you, light another **** cigar, in the hope of easing the brain… or there’s always the loaded gun when you finally feel insane…
Sep 10, 2025
Sep 10, 2025 at 4:41 PM UTC
Smoke rises like clouds
Ripe leaves, dark as the night sky
Ashes fall like rain
Dec 17, 2024
Dec 17, 2024 at 2:05 PM UTC
The taste
of my cigar
and the whiskey in my
gullet can't fill the pit inside
my chest
Aug 19, 2023
Aug 19, 2023 at 2:46 AM UTC
Silky
smoke, with a hint
of leather - succulent
spice from the cigar teases my
palette
Nov 12, 2022
Nov 12, 2022 at 6:34 PM UTC
Before we begin our story
There's something I need to confess
It's this thing I do
I smoke cigars, that's what I do
Does it make me less girly?
I don't think so.
Does it make me less ****
I really don't think so.
The issue is the taste
The taste given to my kisses
Maybe not to attractive
Maybe not as fresh
But I like cigars, I really do.
So, let me brush my teeth
And now, c'mon, get closer
I have a kiss waiting for your lips
Apr 8, 2022
Apr 8, 2022 at 9:50 PM UTC
A man is always looking
To get some free advice
So go and find the fellow
Drinking whiskey over ice
Your friends will tell you one thing
While you're both knocking back a beer
But really, I mean really
Is this the stuff you need to hear
Find a whiskey drinker
He'll tell you how to buy a car
He'll share his whiskey wisdom
About what's a good cigar
A man who drinks good whiskey
Whether neat or over ice
Is the best one you can turn to
When you're looking for advice
He's made it and he knows it
He's not drinking at the pub
He's sitting in a wing back
Drinking whiskey at the club
So, if you're looking for assistance
And you need some good advice
Go get some whiskey wisdom
Sharing whiskey over ice
Sep 29, 2021
Sep 29, 2021 at 11:59 PM UTC
Red heat burns at the extension of my
Fingertips, ashes stoked for a second night of
Inhalation.
Clandestine wetted brown sinks it’s teeth
Into my lips again, it’s breath in my lungs a smoky
Tessellation.
Warmth fills me for the first time in
Months, but a fire lit myself pales dimly in
Comparison
To yours. And yet, there is welcoming comfort in
Knowing that it’s closeness won’t flee the
Garrison
At the first sign of invading intimacy. The risk of
Cancer here is but longing brought to
Manifest.
Cut me with glances, burn with touch. Gods and devils
Both pine for the heart you’ve already
Possessed.
Mar 25, 2021
Mar 25, 2021 at 4:14 PM UTC
Cigarettes and coffee and you.
If I had to name three things I couldn't live without,
I guess those would be the things. But it’s not an addiction,
per say. I only like cigarettes when your callused fingers
offer them to me,
your wordless expression showing concern and contentess.
I blow away our pain and worries and pass it on for later,
thinking I’ll make some coffee again today.
For both of us like I usually do.
Coconut milk in yours and creamer in mine, right?
My toes are suddenly cold
I dip them in these tender aqua waters,
juxtaposing itself with the Tampa humidity
that laces my cup. I can't tell if
you resting your arms around my waist
brings a fire within me
or if it gives me chills.
I start swaying to some synonymous tune
that happens to play in both of our heads at this moment,
even though the only music is
the wind whistling
through the shells and stems of the palm leaves.
My lips are, coffee and cigarette and you stained.
The painful heat always disrupts this heavenly time for us.
So we’ll meet here, same time tomorrow.
I wouldn't want to live without it.
Mar 18, 2021
Mar 18, 2021 at 4:49 PM UTC
_Pale-faced beneath twilight’s awning, shadowed time skips
A beat measured in dust motes and attic silence;
Frameless ether holds its breath and portrait likenesses
Swivel eyes right, suspended between the minute and the hour;
In sequence, Whittington’s chiming sepia tones wring out
A tulip of port and one last cigar from drapery long hung;
As floral meanders unwind from a walnut casing
Inlayed with the gamine whimsies of our cherried youth._
Sep 23, 2020
Sep 23, 2020 at 4:55 PM UTC
Oh my.
What a cruel world
Lots of people suffer
They couldn't fathom the reality
I breathe out the smoke in my lungs
"Oh yes, a cruel world it is"
I voiced out my thoughts
As I looked at the dead body lying beside me
Apr 6, 2020
Apr 6, 2020 at 3:26 AM UTC
Of all the fun I've ever had
Almost all I've never told you
From getting tattoos
To house parties with my crew
Almost all I've never told you
Seeing rappers you hate
Spending more than I earn
Staying out till the suns back up kinda late
Crashing at boys houses and talking to their mom
While smoking cigars and sharing more than lip balm
My friends knowing all the stories I've never told you
But you never knew, never found out about
The times I don't want to forget
You don't know about them yet
And my only regret out of all of it
Is that I can't tell you one bit
Oct 23, 2019
Oct 23, 2019 at 1:33 AM UTC
The smoke licks my fingertips
as I light the cigar
a fix of nicotine on a bad day
a way to keep the bad thoughts at bay
A long pull fills my mouth
with a bitter taste of artificial grape
A low for me I guess you could call it
A hypocrite I guess you could call me
Sep 27, 2019
Sep 27, 2019 at 5:23 PM UTC
Outside the cigar shop is an elderly man
he is leaning against a parking meter
fumbling the quarters he pulls from his deep pockets
and dropping them into the machine
the metal clinking as it accepts the change
and only reading 20 minutes
the old man scowls at the meter and puts in more coins
until it reads 1 hour
he digs around in his pockets and turns them inside out
he has no more
grumbling to himself, he pushes away from the meter
entering the cigar shop
and I'm left sitting in my car wondering
how we can spare some change for more time
for the things that will lessen the time we already have
Aug 13, 2019
Aug 13, 2019 at 11:54 AM UTC
It took a bit of courage
Whiskey and Cigar
I spent the day working on it
Sitting in my local bar
I planned it out precisely
I'd drop by her place by eight
I kept building up my courage
I made sure I wasn't late
She let me in and kissed me
I lit a smoke and grabbed a drink
She went into the bedroom
I had five minutes more to think
I poured myself another
Put the smoke upon the glass
I went into the bedroom
And then it came to pass
It started with three little words
She started as my friend
And now again, three little words
Put this friendship at an end
The three words were I love you
And those words made her cry
The three words now were different
Sorry, and goodbye
I left the glass upon the table
The cigar, I left that too
I left and she was crying
It was what I had to do
The courage that I needed
Had expired as I spoke
It was resting on her table
A glass of whiskey and a smoke
Apr 27, 2019
Apr 27, 2019 at 2:50 PM UTC
A yellow bandanna
the smell of bon fire
and the feeling of freedom
cold water on hot days
cigars on the porch
and your arm around me
But spring has come
and with it
a whole new summer
Apr 17, 2019
Apr 17, 2019 at 5:24 PM UTC
The water sparkles
Now the cigar is smoking
My Evening Solace
Apr 5, 2019
Apr 5, 2019 at 8:07 PM UTC
Our coughing laughs
seem endless,
though we know our ends are near.
A puff or two
off the cigar
under muffled breaths.
A smoke-filled room
and memories
afloat.
Old times
and old pals
reunited with these puffs.
Memories from long ago
when times were simple
and life was vibrant.
Now it seems as if we’ve
completely forgotten
what it felt to be young.
Young and smoking
a meaningless cigarette.
Older and breathing in
a cigar,
like it’s the last one
we’ll ever have.
Time truly
changes
us.
Feb 5, 2019
Feb 5, 2019 at 4:55 PM UTC
Whisky I love,
It gives me that feeling
Of being old and wise.
The cigar I
Puff,
Makes me feel
Happy, calm and in control.
I wouldn't call it unhealthy
If you do it now and then
And if it makes you happy.
Dec 7, 2018
Dec 7, 2018 at 5:32 PM UTC
The infamous Cuban fog
Roll's of the ceiling
Arroz on Pollo
*** and ice
Flamenca tunes serenade
the
crescent moon
Decadent
bites
Celebrating
Havana Nights
Nov 13, 2018
Nov 13, 2018 at 2:38 PM UTC
You were my cigar,
a very toxic one,
you were waiting to be lit.
I was your lighter,
i was hoping to see a flame.
We burned,
intensely,
brightly.
But now all that's left is smoke.
Nov 9, 2018
Nov 9, 2018 at 5:34 AM UTC
At this sushi joint,
she searched for the words
to describe her dinner.
‘It's heaven,’ she said, ‘Yes, heaven.’
Call me a simpleton, but divinity
on Earth is the sweet tinge of bourbon,
the smoke of an acid 60 gauge
that rolls over the tongue,
and the music of Pink Floyd
with the lights off.
-Ron Gavalik
Jul 26, 2018
Jul 26, 2018 at 8:26 PM UTC
Drunk on the orange light of dusk.
High on drink in a thick glass.
Cocooned in cigar smoke that hovers,
it carries the scent of a sweet menace.
The best part is knowing your ***** hang
out of sweaty boxers on the back stoop
while the neighbor lady stares
out the window, ashamed
of the visual **** of her orderly life.
At that moment, you realize, that's it baby.
The concert of life has reached its crescendo.
A spontaneous smile begins to form,
as you also begin to understand,
that's all you ever wanted
in the first place.
-Ron Gavalik
Jul 13, 2018
Jul 13, 2018 at 2:26 PM UTC