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JV Beaupre May 2016
"So why are you painting a woman in a bottle?"
It's a learning painting. I want to see if I can handle all those layers of transparency and quirky reflections.

"But she has a set of phantom arms and legs, what about that?"
Yes, pretty cool. A Vitruvian woman in a bottle.

"I'm looking for Meaning: Don't paintings symbolize things?"
You mean, what does it mean, really mean? I had an idea, but it really wasn't very deep.

"But what are you saying with that?"
It's not feminist nor anti, it's just an exercise.

"But aren't you, as an artist, exposing reality and interpreting, presenting emotions and feelings, seeing the soul?"
I'm not on a soapbox-- I'm testing my skill-- I paint and don't think about it too much. After all, 'Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar' or is it 'just a smoke'?

"I don't like your message."*
OK, I'll paint you in a bottle...
As a shrunken head.
On the other hand, I once painted an agricultural scene based on a photo from the 1930s that I thought carried a social message. Most people wanted to know what kind of tractor it was.
T'was the night before Christmas, And at the back of the bar

Sat a man all alone, Lighting up a cigar

The waitress ran over and waving her hand

You can't do that here, Smoking is banned.

If you must smoke that thing, you can go to the street

And stay away from the building, by at least fifty feet

The man took a puff and with a voice like a croak

He said, "You're kidding, right miss? You're making a joke"

I'm sorry, but sir..I'm afraid that it's true

But the law is the law, and it's not only for you

That we must say **** out, please extinguish your smoke

So our place can be filled with other fine folk

For ninety two years I have walked on this earth,

I have broken no laws and you know what it's worth?

Bupkiss, no nada it's not worth a thing

Would that law still apply if I was a King?

I've been coming in here for 60 odd years

And I think I've consumed a truckload of beers

I've smoked in this corner on many a night

Now you say **** out, I don't think that's right.

I fought for this country at the end of the war

I came home with a war wound, and you know dear...what's more

I came to this bar to have drinks with my friends

Who all weren't so lucky and met terrible ends

They died on the beach, heart as big as a house

Taking on the unknown for their country, their spouse

They battled for honor, the right to be free

And they all weren't as lucky, to come home like me.

I was here in the sixities when Camelot died

I was here with my son, and we both sat and cried

It was that night in November, I remember it well

That my son said he'd joined up and was heading to ****

He had joined the marines and was all set to fight

For freedom and honor and he knew it was right

Because I'd gone before and stood with others like him

And I said just be safe, and come home son...my Jim

In the years he was gone, I came down here to think

Of why he was there and I shared smokes and drinks

With friends, all now gone from this world of distrust

Now they all lie beneath us, decomposed back to dust.

My son made it back and we came right down here

To spend time with our friends, both from far and from near.

The years passed us by and my grandson joined too

And we sat and we prayed in this bar, for we knew

He was fighting for freedom and the rights we hold dear

Like having some fun, over smokes and some beer.

He never came home from his war, don't you see

That's why we're sitting alone here, just you and me

Tonight is the night that his letter arrived

Saying "We regret to inform you...that no one survived"

So, each Christmas Eve I come back to this bar

To savor my memories and to drink from this jar

And I finish each year thinking of what now is gone,

Of my battle scarred boy and his now deceased son

Now, you come and tell me that I must go outside

To continue my smoking and so I'll abide

'cause for 92 years that I've been on this earth

I've broken no laws and you know what that's worth

Then the waitress reached back and she pulled out a match

From a box on the bar with a rusty old catch

She said Sir, I am sorry I didn't mean to offend

For this one night each year, the law I can bend

So please light one for me on this Christmas Eve Night

And Thank you from all who continue the fight.

Merry Christmas and HAPPY NEW YEAR 2019
A Christmas Eve Poem that was posted earlier, I have not added much, but, I think it is fitting to read so those of you who haven't seen my older works, and The Street Poems, may get a chance.
lulu Nov 2018
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.
'our love has burnt.'
so, i thought but no.
Khoi-San Nov 2018
The infamous Cuban fog
Roll's of the ceiling
Arroz on Pollo
*** and ice
Flamenca tunes serenade
the
crescent moon
Decadent
bite
Celebrating
Havana nights
I thought I'd write something
From my bucket list
Max Dec 2018
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.
Sometimes I like to drink my whisky and smoke a little good cigar... and I hate it when people say It's bad for me! Look at churchill, he lived a long life.
Marília Galvão Mar 2015
Now I ask you to join me
Now you celebrate
Not being me. Not being you
Only Us for the great

UN
load!
DIS
arm!

EN
large!
OUT
side!

Some steps I will take
Be my guest
Pull your anchor
Out of the lake



We're
In the room
In the building
In the crowded city
In the country with thousands of cities
The country shares the continent with an enemy nation
The two rivals are carried round and round by the Earth's endless rotation
The Earth obeys the master’s magnetic line, burning since uncountable clock time
The sun is blind to his insignificance too, ignoring billions of other star mates, it can’t see through
Immeasurable it seems, magnifying! All of them such tiny little parts in one of Miss Milky’s arms
Some light years away there they are: Pinwheel, Cartwheel, Black Eye, Andromeda and Cigar
Unmeasurable it seems, humongous! All of them such a fading little part of the cosmos

There you are
Floating from a distance
Feel the empty ground
Drink from the fountain of existence

Still blind to insignificance?
Still convinced about the rightness of imposed beliefs?
Still judging others’ defects according to our pretentious and vain mind?
Still punching away the different, protecting the mold?
Still reinforcing illusory antagonism and insignia?
Still seeing only two sides?
Still holding to the pride?

Still
In the ******* room

Am I? Are you?
Let's try it again
“Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness." Mark Twain
Kevin Hayes Nov 2018
Long time coming
Long time gunning

Man dead on the ground
the soul still running

Flamed too ashes
Like a cigar filled with tree

Flamed too ashes
So there’s no more misery

Atleast that’s what he thinks
But to his surprise

He’s got grave problems
On the other side.
Emmanuella Nov 2018
"I can’t figure it out.” She said.
“I like cigars,
and pretty dresses and crossing my legs.”
She paused,
then continued,
“And I like smoking cigars in pretty dresses while crossing my legs.”
She uncrossed them,
then crossed them again.
One smooth limb over the other.
Just like that.

“But I never seem to have a lighter on hand.
Could you— sir,
please light my cigar?”
“You see, I have no pockets to hold such things and my purse…
Well,
You’ve confiscated that, haven’t you?”

“Thanks.” She breathed,
and inhaled,
and exhaled;
Sluggish wisps of smoke dissipating into the air.
Just. like .that.

“I didn’t know L'homme was into women who smoke cigars in pretty dresses while crossing their legs", She said.
“I mean, how was I to know?
I only noticed him noticing me.
It was probably the way my hair was pinned up like so,
Or the way my lipstick was a deep, dangerous rogue,
Or the way I sipped my champagne…
That made him walk over.”

“But I never asked him to light my cigar
Or comment on my dress…
Or ****** my legs.
So when I whacked him up top over the head with my glass,
I bet he never expected it to shatter and split his skull like so.
He dropped so sudden, sir. I…”
Another ringlet of smoke, a sigh, an uncrossing and crossing of legs again.
“I had no clue,
what else to do,
But to sit still in my pretty dress, with my legs crossed, smoking my cigar trying to figure out...
Just how I'd committed ******.”
"She's a dangerous woman...
Who can ****,
Just with her *** appeal".
Ron Gavalik Jul 2018
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
Hit Patreon. No, I’m not kidding. Patreon.com/rongavalik
It was indeed a rough day,
it was too much to take
Shrugged for a moment
and took one deep breath
I looked out the window
as I lit one last cigar before
I go to sleep
I gazed upon the sky,
there were no stars shining
Yet the moon's brightness
caught my attention
It was smiling despite of
being alone in that dark,
massive space
I then remembered him,
he was like the moon
He shined in times of darkness
saige Sep 2018
i can spin you now
i just can't
prove it

because of you
i bought tapes
box-step and etiquette
and burned my best cigar
like incense, in practice
the bullet i was saving for
our last day

for christsake, please
spin me now!

around
around
around around

because of you
my world is over
my life is stubborn

my god, at least
pinch me now!

i held your hand
and let you go
(or was it down?)
that shell of a day
up in smoke
i'd already
ingested

and i survived
because you
didn't
dance with me
Wanyun Gu Apr 2015
While tufts of gloom engulfing the sky,
With no space and time between
Us, you and I,
soak ourselves in the stationary delight.
Like a hypersensitive scheme,
Yet an irreconcilable vibe,
You smoke, and I sigh.

While others argue to be or not to be,
You and I, standing in front of Robert Frost’s fork
—to smoke or sigh
Without hesitation,
You choose to hold a cigar in hand,
I choose to release an unknown in mind,
And sigh.

We then, ask each other why
You say, if you ever woke up in evisceration,
You would quit smoking
I say, if I ever woke up in nonentity,
I would stop sighing

Basking in the glow of flickers,
Inhaling the essence of meteoric laughters,
We look into each other’s assuring eyes
—I respect your choice,
as much as you respect mine.
Palpably, we’ve educed a compromise
It’s neither you smoke, nor I sigh.
Kara Jean May 2016
A curtain held by one nail
Faded blush pink, tilted
Ratted hair into knotted beauty
Eyeliner set as feathers
***** crusted stage, crackling with every step
Audience of the haunted, ghostly clapping
Amused by the audacity
She twirls
Egotistical, making her toes blister
She closes her eyes, her thighs tingling
Meat hanging on a bone barely
Hells lounge
What a crowd
The devil sharpens his hair
Perfect horns of despair
He smokes his cigar
"Keep going my queen
Famous was the only request
You never said where"
Satan's personal entertainer
He kisses her forehead,
carressing her mangled body
He loves her the best a man can,
when being the king of ****
A ferocious request, "bow everybody"
Jordan Rowan Apr 2016
Don't be late, just stand and wait
Time will pass and so will fate
Your eyes are clean and your back is strong
But that'll be gone before too long
I don't know if I've got much time
But what I've got is only mine

**** my friends, Doctor Strange
With your pad and pen that makes us deranged
I've been told a story or two
But the scariest ones are all about you
Come with me into my home
I like my space but hate being alone

Stand and deliver what makes you quiver
As you shiver beside the Mississippi River
Call your dreams and make them scream
You need to learn how to work as a team
Smoke my eyes and punch a cigar
And with that, I've gone too far
Mustapha Olokun Nov 2018
the chevy hard knock.
varied origins of afro youth,
in the tint of dark,
in the Havana rock.

rich rock in the palm,
pummels in the trunk,
and the narrow cracks
of La Habana funk.

rugged daughters,
draw the physical art,
sons form the
majestic canvas.

trumpet songs,
echo her soul tonight,
and she wails at hints
of the mornings right.

driven on the uneven black,
is hope of excitement.
curiosity risen from the street,
of opportunities coveted.

what more, in Cuba,
to live and die,
to love and feel,
to suffer and sweat.

It is all beautiful,
and it is all classic.

eyes beholding
futbol on corners,
tough children, play much
on rough dust.

a Cubana, with skin
as buttered chocolates,
crossing from shade to sun,
****, and gracious.

tonight is loading,
buffering the cigar smokes,
the groovy 76 being shoved
with memory and revelry.

Here, in Havana.
sound is telling
a living story,
an active pleasure.

.. and it is all classic.
All classic.
here,
In Havana.
For imagery of an upcoming musical piece.
Sadie Oct 2018
ruffling through the cedar
she plucked the cigar from her palms
and into the pocket of his plaid button-up

it was in these moments that we steered away
from our harsh reality
For my Pappy.
I love you.

October 10, 2018
Big Virge Oct 2016
Why does ... ?
My Appearance ...
Offend most folk ... !?!

I DON'T ... sell Coc'... !!!

I'm NOT ...
An Ignorant Bloke ... !!!

I DON'T LIKE ... " ***** "... !!!
But sometimes ... like a smoke ...

There''s Nothing ... quite like ...
A ... Cuban Cigar ...

After food ...
or with a drink ... at a bar ...

NOT Beer ... but ... Brandy
Suitably warm ...
in a ... " Brandy Glass "...

THAT'S ... who I am ...

I'm NOT ... an ****... !!!

Unlike those ...
who judge from .................................................................­........... far ...............

"He's AGGRESSIVE !
His incentive, is to Rob,
and start, MOLESTING !"

"Who on earth ?
Do you think you're addressing ?
Your judgements are Distressing !
Your thought waves need, progressing !
Stop your second guessing !
cos when I start, *******,
your state of mental being,
you'll wish you had, Gods' Blessing !"

Girls or Men ...
just ... Can't defend ... !!!

Their NONSENSE ...
as I ... count to ......... TEN ... !!!!!

See .....
That's my way of ...
Teaching Them ...

I'm NOT ... That Man ...
on .... " News at Ten "... !!!!!

NO ...
NOT Trev'....
but those ... "Locked"...

Inside ... Prison ... !!!

I'm RARE ...
Just like ... " True Gentlemen "... !!!

Girls have said ...
Such ... " Silly Things "... !!?!!

"Upon introduction,
my heartbeat raced !
I thought you were gonna,
punch me in my face !"

"That's what you saw ?
when you, looked in my face !"

Such attitudes ...
are REALLY ... lame ... !!!!

It's ...
" Funny "... to some ...
but let's ... Get This ... CLEAR ... !!!!!

These ... " Stereotypes "...
are ... REALLY ... Dumb ... ?!?

I deal with this ignorance ...
Day to Day ...

" Some guy ... "
tried to bar me ...
from his place ...

Without ...
even looking me ...
in ... " My Face "...

WHY ... ?
because of ... " e-mails sent "... ?!?

But ...
when he ... " Traced "...
The mails ... i'd sent ...

His thought waves got ... DERAILED ... !!!

and then ... some ...
" Common Sense "... prevailed ... !!!

I've met him now ...
His stench seems ... " FOUL "... !!!!!!!!!

A ... " Money Man "...
just like the ... " Dow "...
Index ... Direct ... !!! ...

Until my words ...
got in ... " His Chest "... !!!
and proved to him ...
My ... " Intellect "...

whilst ... giving him ...
A ... "small complex"...
about what could ... just happen ... NEXT ... !!!?!!!

Sometimes ... YES ...
Just like ... " The Wu "...

I do ... suggest ...
You PROTECT ... " Your Neck "... !!!!!

It's Better ...
NOT TO ... Get me vex ... !!!!!

cos' plans I make ...
are so ... " Complex "...

You may just need ...
A ... " Bullet-Proof "... vest ... !?!?!

For me ... you see ...
Life's Posing ... tests ...

From Living ... to ...
Just getting ... *** ... !?!

These problems ...
leave my mind ... " Perplexed "... ???

Well .....
Perplexed or ... NOT ...

I'm still ... DIRECT ... !!!

from things I say ...
to ... Written Text ...

to earn what's due ...

Some **** ... Respect.
from those who watch ...
Their ... TV Set ...

Then .....
" Pre-Judge "... me ...
That's ... INCORRECT ... !!!!!

Well .....
Here's the deal ... !!!

Instead of ... " Surfing "...
...... " Internet "......

Try .....
PULLING ... The Plug ...
Yes .... DISCONNECT .... !!!

Deal with those ...
In Front of ... you ...

Some of us ...
are people ... TOO ... !!!!!

Whether on ... PC ...
or on ... " TV "...

You're receiving ... INTERFERENCE ... !!!!!!

Your thought waves ... NEED ...
Some .... " Clearance "....

and ... Maybe then ... ?

You'll... FINALLY See ...
Don't judge folks by ...

... " Appearance "...
I'm STILL, not the only one suffering such ridiculous judgments clearly ! According to the story today, about the Doctor, who probably won't be flying with Delta airlines any time soon !
Steve Jun 2018
Tired of living in a false paradise of consumption,
suffering everyday our labored prostitution,
trade in your hours for a handful of scraps,
smile while your master puts the cigar out on your back,
this is the workers symphony,
aching joints, aching psyche,
smothered with whiskey to **** the pain,
our autonomous freedom we'll never regain,
***** till you die, laugh till it hurts, your meaning in life, to merely survive,
collect your checks week after week, creative minds stomped out, just smile and drink,
be a good ***** except your fate,
it's just the way it is boy get back in your place,
we gravel in dispair, they spit in our face,
we waste our lives away,
on our hands and knees we just smile and drink,
thinking about breaking these chains,
it's punishable by law,
authority laughs when you die slow for your keep,
with your eyes wide shut,
don't wake your slumber,  
it's all a bad dream,
just go back to sleep,
and forget life's blunder
Oh, I crave a Cuban cigar
A glass of Maker's Mark
Two cubes of ice please
Sitting by an open fire pit
Sitting across from my son

I will have that soon
Under a brilliant bright moon
Dreams I have
I will make come true
my son and me, no mystery
saige Apr 2018
should she have
thrown her wish at the stars
or down a well?

her hair in cigar smoke ringlets
her eyes were the guinness
the journey, her passion
the boy, her poison
the liffey winked with antidotes

black glass with white lights
why do rivers mock the sky?

her hair in her vision
her voice in a bird cage
a swan on a sailboat
not a soul on the ferry

on another coast
amid the day before
and the one that followed
seafoam clashed with clouds
came full circle
as her favorite dead end

she raised
then rolled
her eyes

blue waves with gray wisps
why do skies mock the river?

she didn't go over
nor to the end
she just went against the grain
of the rainbow
only she could spot

and then
she stuffed her hands into her pockets
and
she threw her wish
away
Thursday Jan 12
He's viciously attractive
So I religiously ignore his backwards way of seeing things
And fall into his arms day after night
As if the floor itself inclined to the left and I could do nothing but slip closer and closer to his place
Where he'd always be waiting for me
With a warm arm open and a cigar between his lips
Alexander Sep 2018
I’m a cocktail dress wearing
Martini drinking
Cigar smoking
Self righteous
Person
I once was a hunting
Mud wearing
Water trekking
Bible reading
Person
I’m a shell of an elitist
I’m a shell of my once was person
I’m a New Yorker in the dim , smoke ridden room
I once was an  Arknasas native , born and breed in the backwoods, people don’t even realize they drive by every day
I’m the  quirks and flaws that make me who I am.
I once was and  always am.
I won’t say this is me in the bizarre, quick verses I call a poem. But it is. All of me can’t be wrapped up in words and syllables, so  this will have to do.
Logan Robertson Jul 2018
Behind the eight ball
she sits.
Resigned.
From her ****'s
leash,
she's lead.
Deadweight, she feels
his ways and ills,
like cattle, that's branded.
Best she hustles,
or be backhanded.
Once molded,
she learns to light up
Big Daddy's cigar
and bring him his pie loaded.
More cabbage to fill his gold baggage.
Sometimes he spares a small leaf for her.
Though times she short, his fist takes sport.
And every night
she plays for the band
of her john's,
singing their song,
while a thousand ****** of light
inches along all wrong.
The nameless, faceless and most relentless
getting their fill.
A flower in her wails loves not fear.
However, Big Daddy's eyes are always near.
She knows better than to run
past the pasture gates
onto verdant fields,
free as a bird,
without a home, money or vocation
and ever so fearful of Big Daddy's gun.
A flower in her wails loves not fears.
As she remembers those first tears.
A Big Daddy's indoctrination.
It started off on social media,
a whim
a fantasy went wrong.
Three nights her body violated,
Big Daddy's cavalry,
descending on her picnic,
wax and whips,
a thousand ****** of might,
and the scream of the night.
Coldcocked.
Say hello to the new ******* the block.
A flower in her wails loves not fears.
Her youth robbed as the days morph into years.
Like a blur.
The guise, the lure, the drugs, the fear.
The trap.
Eighteen young became twenty-four old.
A lost puppy to her folks back home.
And every lost night
she struts her Prada dress a little higher
Big Daddy has a buyer.

Logan Robertson

7/27/2018
To Desiree sixx  phoenix I read your poem, 304, regarding pimps. What strikes me are the 8.9k views and not one acknowledgment. How odd is that? I see shortly after, you quit writing here. I don't blame you.
Johnny Noiπ Dec 2018
After Leonard wiped out half of New York's Little Italy,
the band was asked to leave the country. "Oni ne dolzhny
posylat' tak mnogo srazu. Eto obleg chayet zadachu. Vsev
Amerike udobno, bez truda."* The band broke out in an acapella
'Back in the USSR', & Leonard lit a cigar. 'Are you with the Uks?
the slight girl suddenly at his side inquired ... he heard her
voice through the ruckus. That told him she was someone
special. When the band looked around again, he was gone.
*They should not send so many at once. That makes it easy.
Everything in America is Convenient, no work ethic.
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