"cigarette" poems
there is always somebody or something
waiting for you,
something stronger, more intelligent,
more evil, more kind, more durable,
something bigger, something better,
something worse, something with
eyes like the tiger, jaws like the shark,
something crazier than crazy,
saner than sane,
there is always something or somebody
waiting for you
as you put on your shoes
or as you sleep
or as you empty a garbage can
or pet your cat
or brush your teeth
or celebrate a holiday
there is always somebody or something
waiting for you.
keep this fully in mind
so that when it happens
you will be as ready as possible.
meanwhile, a good day to
you
if you are still there.
I think that I am---
I just burnt my fingers on
this
cigarette.
76k
I cut the middle fingernail of the middle
finger
right hand
real short
and I began rubbing along her ****
as she sat upright in bed
spreading lotion over her arms
face
and *******
after bathing.
then she lit a cigarette:
"don't let this put you off,"
an smoked and continued to rub
the lotion on.
I continued to rub the ****
"You want an apple?" I asked.
"sure, she said, "you got one?"
but I got to her-
she began to twist
then she rolled on her side,
she was getting wet and open
like a flower in the rain.
then she rolled on her stomach
and her most beautiful ***
looked up at me
and I reached under and got the
**** again.
she reached around and got my
**** she rolled and twisted,
I mounted
my face falling into the mass
of red hair that overflowed
from her head
and my flattened **** entered
into the miracle.
later we joked about the lotion
and the cigarette and the apple.
then I went out and got some chicken
and shrimp and french fries and buns
and mashed potatoes and gravy and
cole slaw,and we ate.she told me
how good she felt and I told her
how good I felt and we
ate the chicken and the shrimp and the
french fries and the buns and the
mashed potatoes and the gravy and
the cole slaw too.
69.4k
He poured the coffee
Into the cup
He put the milk
Into the cup of coffee
He put the sugar
Into the coffee with milk
With a small spoon
He churned
He drank the coffee
And he put down the cup
Without any word to me
He emptied the coffee with milk
And he put down the cup
Without any word to me
He lighted
One cigarette
He made circles
With the smoke
He shook off the ash
Into the ashtray
Without any word to me
Without any look at me
He got up
He put on
A hat on his head
He put on
A raincoat
Because it was raining
And he left
Into the rain
Without any word to me
Without any look at me
And I buried
My face in my hands
And I cried
62.8k
she's young, she said,
but look at me,
I have pretty ankles,
and look at my wrists, I have pretty
wrists
o my god,
I thought it was all working,
and now it's her again,
every time she phones you go crazy,
you told me it was over
you told me it was finished,
listen, I've lived long enough to become a
good woman,
why do you need a bad woman?
you need to be tortured, don't you?
you think life is rotten if somebody treats you
rotten it all fits,
doesn't it?
tell me, is that it? do you want to be treated like a
piece of ****
and my son, my son was going to meet you.
I told my son
and I dropped all my lovers.
I stood up in a cafe and screamed
I'M IN LOVE,
and now you've made a fool of me. . .
I'm sorry, I said, I'm really sorry.
hold me, she said, will you please hold me?
I've never been in one of these things before, I said,
these triangles. . .
she got up and lit a cigarette, she was trembling all
over.she paced up and down,wild and crazy.she had
a small body.her arms were thin,very thin and when
she screamed and started beating me I held her
wrists and then I got it through the eyes:hatred,
centuries deep and true.I was wrong and graceless and
sick.all the things I had learned had been wasted.
there was no creature living as foul as I
and all my poems were
false.
59k
like a cigarette, ignited and raised to your scornful lips
you made me your addiction
and i let you consume me
Dec 17, 2014
Dec 17, 2014 at 12:53 PM UTC
there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too tough for him,
I say, stay in there, I'm not going
to let anybody see
you.
there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I pur whiskey on him and inhale
cigarette smoke
and the ****** and the bartenders
and the grocery clerks
never know that
he's
in there.
there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too tough for him,
I say,
stay down, do you want to mess
me up?
you want to ***** up the
works?
you want to blow my book sales in
Europe?
there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too clever, I only let him out
at night sometimes
when everybody's asleep.
I say, I know that you're there,
so don't be
sad.
then I put him back,
but he's singing a little
in there, I haven't quite let him
die
and we sleep together like
that
with our
secret pact
and it's nice enough to
make a man
weep, but I don't
weep, do
you?
52k
*here's how it happens
the morning after
you reach into the drawer
where the your t-shirts live
to find it austere
you'll shrug because
you're still drunk
& you can't remember
when last it was
that you had something wet
or how long it's been
since you made the floorboards blush
or why the carpet is upset
who wouldn't be
the contents to the upended ashtray
strewn around the apartment
resemble the aftermath
of the smallest war
to ever take place in norfolk
some midnight thief
must've made off with the lighter
because it isn't in
any of your favorite spots
maybe you chucked it
along with a hundred other things
that make noise when they land
in the neighbors yard
you won't remember putting
the refrigerator's belongings
in the bathtub
or scrawling a buzzard
on the bedroom door
but then again who would
you'll pretend it's spring again
before putting on your winter coat
to go out front with a cigarette
in your mouth
you'll hope for a passing stranger
to *** a light from
or drag yourself to the corner
with couch cushion change
to buy a new lighter
and on your way
you won't bother looking back
this is just another day
on eggshells for no reason
another november
choking on birthday candles
on your way home
you step over beer cans
the kind you fell in love with
and wonder who
had the last laugh last night
or if anyone said a word at all
it might've been another
moment of clarity
it might have been some idiot savant
any adjective that feels like home
anything that keeps you thirsty*
Nov 18, 2014
Nov 18, 2014 at 10:30 PM UTC
a lady lights a cigarette
glowing red cherry
lips, puffing without
regret
a cigarette, burning
smoking, grey breathing
choking and
tap tap the
falling ashes
it is over with
a definitive flick —
a lady lights a cigarette
she can see her spirit
dancing in the smoke
May 7, 2014
May 7, 2014 at 12:26 AM UTC
Once more I close my eyes.
A violin plays like a blazing fire.
I feel calm yet tears cover my eyes.
The fire burns through my lungs.
I hear the silence of many thoughts.
The concerto ends, I applaud.
Once more I open my eyes.
Mar 24, 2015
Mar 24, 2015 at 11:06 AM UTC
I had coffee and a cigarette for breakfast
So yeah I'm doing fine
I've become good at taking weight off of other peoples shoulders
and
Searching for happiness in everything
Sep 4, 2018
Sep 4, 2018 at 2:04 PM UTC
Go ahead
hold me a little longer
than usual.
You say to me,
without using any
words at all,
"it should have been me,
its still me."
Like i don't already see
those sky blue eyes
every time i close my own.
Because we're still holding
on to god knows what.
Because it is you
and it will always be you.
Feb 27, 2018
Feb 27, 2018 at 11:48 AM UTC
Bells ring.
Angels sing.
Your blue eyes shine
I wish you were mine.
Smoke fills the air.
From my lit cigarette.
Your skin so fair
I wish I didn't care.
Will this infatuation last?
The way you give everyone that glare
Except for me
My heart's in a cast
I am healing.
I am.
For you.
Nov 13, 2014
Nov 13, 2014 at 3:44 PM UTC
*As i watched the moon disappear into the morning light
Pulling on a cigarette
I fell in love with life
As the dark sky created morning air*
Feb 1, 2015
Feb 1, 2015 at 2:12 AM UTC
I hear your name everywhere
Your whispers in the buzzing of the bees
Your exasperated sighs in the beeping of the cars
Your ecstatic storytelling in the humdrum of random noises
I see you in every hue
Your calm demeanor in shades of blue
Your road rage in shades of red
Your cheeky laugh in shades of yellow
I taste you in every way
Your kiss in this smooth black chocolate
The warmth of your hand in this bowl of soup
Your icy stare in gulping this cold water
I smell you in every scent
Your warm hug in this cup of coffee
Your compassion in this bouquet of Stargazers
Your glistening eyes in this cigarette
Doctors, please help me
I have the rarest case of synesthesia
When it comes to you,
My brain malfunctions
My senses, once numb, feel everything
All at once
In the most passionate and
In the most heightened sense
To feel you in everything.
To experience you in every way.
My eyes only see you
My nose only smells you
My tongue only craves you
My ears only hear you
My brain only perceives you
My synesthesia
Is only in the form of you.
Jul 22, 2018
Jul 22, 2018 at 9:38 AM UTC
you told me you were leaving
because i smoke cigarettes
i stopped smoking in fear
of losing you forever
i went by your place to tell you
that i broke my bad habit
i saw you pressing your lips
against someone new
my walk home was lonely
and the only thing pressed to my lips
was a cigarette
i guess it's time to quit my bad habit:
you.
Feb 17, 2015
Feb 17, 2015 at 9:31 PM UTC
a curved pastry
like a prune danish
in a sway
a weaving kiss
anointed by a melting stick of butter,
pushed and puddled
deep and slow
the shape of a heart
with a hole in the middle
ooow dark fig
stinking rose
a comfort that sweetens with the grace of form
and pops like a trigger releasing a bullet
i covet
with eyes like erections
pants sticky wet
hot glue factory
for you love, my *** angel
red skin girl gaping
with circular yearning set in motion
tarnished petal mix meister
sinful hot house
for quaking tongue and lips,
a wild cherry *** kisser
spiked ***** blushing
lord of ****
solar ******* hero
flexed and oiled
to the rescue
a god send
triumphant and blessed
looks like a fast cigarette boat
hitting the speed bumps hard
she said yes please
dip like
nautilus of the black sea
What?
no loitering
no parking
not a through street
haahaahaa
****
that
****
Aug 21, 2018
Aug 21, 2018 at 1:11 PM UTC
fall was in the air and it was a very dreary october day. the halls of the old victorian house had been filled with new arivals and lots of noise.
"i can barely hear myself think." Madison sneered, a cigarette in her hand as she stood next to zoey and nan in the hallway. looking at the new girls with disguist. "and none of these new ******* better step on my toes. this isnt ******* hogwarts." she rolled her eyes. "hogwarts." zoey laughed, making nan laugh aswell. "if this were hogwarts, you would be draco malfoy" nan joked. "hardy har har." Madison snickered. "and you would be harry potters fat cousin because your ugly and nobody loves you." madison smiled. "well, i think it's great." zoey said cheerfully. "all of these girls would feel lost and alone and now they have somewhere to belong.". "you would say that." Madison rolled her eyes. suddenly a slightly younger girl with big green eyes and long brown hair and freckles rushed up to the three of them with a gleam in her eye. "oh my god it is you! you're madison montgomery!" the girl explained. " i love you! will you sign my back pack?" the girl turned around and Madison pulled a pink highlighter out of the side of her floral backpack. her face lit up as she wrote her name on the backpack making zoey and nan smile aswell. "thank you! thank you! thank you! you're my idol." the girl blushed. "my name is Cassie motts, i've seen all of your movies, i love you! i love you! i love you!" the girl giggled. "alright.." Madison had been taken back a step. "have a great day you little ****** she smiled, a look of confusion hung upon her face. "thank you.. you dont know how much this means to me." the girl explained cheerfully and walked away. "well ladies it looks like we're the head honchoes around this **** show." Madison sighed, still slightly smiling. "i was always the head honchoe." nan replied. "yeah, okay, right." zoey rolled her eyes and smiled at nan as the three made there way down the hall together.
Jan 28, 2015
Jan 28, 2015 at 7:14 PM UTC
You broke my ******* heart.
And you did it from the comfort of your own ******* garden.
While you had a ******* cigarette.
I was curled into the corner of a ******* bathroom, so no one could hear me cry.
I don't ******* cry.
But since then I can't ******* stop.
I can't ******* deal with this.
Why the **** did you do this to me?
I ******* hate you!
Please come back...
Jan 4, 2015
Jan 4, 2015 at 9:28 AM UTC
there was a slice of chocolate cake in the fridge
and my sister asked me if i wanted it.
i didn't respond, stared off into space
and continued to smoke my cigarette
in the kitchen because mom was
asleep already and it was 1 am
on a saturday in july
and it was hot and we were both braless and hoping
the single fan on the counter would circulate the air enough
to make us comfortable in the cottage that we called home
that didn't have air conditioning in the middle of the woods.
the three of us hadn't moved for three more hours,
instead spent all of that time talking about nothing
and everything the way sisters do
because sisters eventually end up saying all the words that have
to be said
but each time it sounds new even though it never is.
we're all different but the thing about sisters is
that other people always see you as the same.
we all eventually grew into having brown hair
even though i had been born a redhead
and she had been born blond
and she had been born the same shade of brunette
that still graced her scalp but was thinner than the rest of ours
and fit in an elastic pony tail comfortably
unlike mine, which broke those things immediately
and she, who cut hers all off in hopes
to cleanse herself and
keep herself from being weighed down.
Jul 23, 2014
Jul 23, 2014 at 4:16 PM UTC
Your electricity flows out of your fingertips shocking me
and making me feel energy in places I didn't know it could reside.
Lightning jump starts my heart and sends a current through my body, accelerating my breathing and fueling my desires.
Impulses fire in my brain rewiring my thoughts
and I can only compare it to crawling in to bed with the thought of Christmas morning in the middle of June.
Your fingers send jolts through my nerve endings and power surges through my hair, making it stand on end.
They feel like cigarette burns on bare flesh and I can't help but cringe at how much I enjoy it.
Aug 7, 2014
Aug 7, 2014 at 10:48 AM UTC
someone's in the next room over
having *** while we
are weeping
what a way to mark the occasion
the day my fingers found a wound
you let someone else doctor
it's upsetting see
the bible in drawer next to us
the way our hands still
fit together
like the torn halves
of a love letter
the way you got
all dressed up like the rain
and how we couldn't tell
the difference in the shower
it was the longest hour and a half
spent crying
the hot water wouldn't give up
so why should we
right?
even though it was scalding
neither of us touched the ****
we knew this was supposed to hurt
your hair
a black mess against my shoulder
my fingers
oil in the vinegar of your hands
our bodies
the great divide
all the sobbing
a river runs through it
without the courage
to carry or **** us
so we step out
and drip dry
down to a mute breakfast
composed of quiet
and last nights liquor
as we came back in
there were people in our room
at first i thought them detectives
dissecting things
to see who had died here
i had forgotten this
was a hotel
and they were only
cleaning up after us
i wanted to stop them
plead
that the sheets were still perfect
that if they clean the bathroom
no one will know
what happened here
someone has to remember
*"please
i know
these cigarette burns
by name
i will bury the faucet
let me take the tub
i don't care how
if i have to
i will drag it home by hand*"
Nov 1, 2015
Nov 1, 2015 at 10:50 PM UTC
Plagiarism of worthless ideals,
that you so ignorantly hold high.
Shaking in amazement,
how can you call your self alive?
Totalitarian, lethargic lifestyle.
Ignominious displays of disaffection.
Constant contradictions;
out of your mind.
Caught up in the clouds,
cognition of mania and level debauched.
Up to high to realize, you're an “open mind” with locked doors.
Maslow, Skinner, and Darwin alike, turn in their graves,
over your lack of evolution.
Mar 6, 2013
Mar 6, 2013 at 2:00 AM UTC
As I **** this cigarette
my life go's up in smoke,
in clouds of gray and white
some day I'll die of stroke.
If only I would quit
this habit that I have,
my lungs would never rot
all cancerous and scabbed.
And though I know this all,
to my love I still return,
for nicotine I crave for nicotine I yearn.
Take this poem to heart,
and let thy cigarette go,
for dieing of lung cancer
is the slowest death I know.
Dec 23, 2012
Dec 23, 2012 at 3:03 PM UTC
apricots and cigarette smoke:
your smile is infectious.
heat leaking through the little slit in the
window: melt like cool frosters on
a hot summer day - melt
into me
lets become solvent
in this little
car; (I wouldn't mind.)
combine together, like our parents
and parents before them. molecular;
everything, anything -
we are science.
I am not afraid, it is
you
who takes the air from
my gasping lungs; - look!
at his beauty; divine.
© A. Leigh
Jul 19, 2013
Jul 19, 2013 at 3:54 PM UTC
he moved her
like a cigarette
between his fingers
both made him feel good
he let her in
and felt things
he never quite understood
but when he's done
like a cigarette
he'll simply turn her off.
Feb 20, 2015
Feb 20, 2015 at 12:33 PM UTC