smoke

Smoke

It's no joke

when you smell smoke

find out where it's coming from

and run man run

 

smoke can make you choke

smoke can make you croak

your eyes may burn and start to tear

smoke is something you should fear

 

it's no joke

when you smell smoke

just like a smoking gun

it can kill someone

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

WPOM Poetry Prompt day 3 Write a poem about smoke

First Smoke, Then Mirrors

Folder: 
Seapoems

*

Mist as incense rises

before the dawning sun,

each wave aglow

with his light

 

As slowly the sun

ascends higher,

every tidal pool

inlet and bay

all creeks and streams

image his face of fire.

-saiom shriver-

 

*

 

http://il6.picdn.net/shutterstock/videos/11970134/thumb/1.jpg?i10c=img.resize(height:160)

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Sound of Drums: Based on Les Miserables

Sound of Drums

Smoke, ashes, sound of drums.

Smoke, ashes, sound of drums.

Smoke, ashes, sound of drums.

Smoke, ashes, sound of drums.


The day is past.

The dead are dead.

Their lives for naught.

Rebellion, they led.

Their Freedom!,

Never was.

Their Freedom!,

Will never be.


Slaves, chains, sound of drums.

Slaves, chains, sound of drums.

Slaves, chains, sound of drums.

Slaves, chains, sound of drums.


The time is past.

The slaves are slaves.

Their lives ruled by law.

The rebellion, did not last.

Their bravery, their flaw.

Their Freedom!,

Never was.

Their Freedom!,

Will never be.


Smoke, ashes, sound of drums.

Smoke, ashes, sound of drums.

Smoke, ashes, sound of drums.

Smoke, ashes, sound of drums.






Schizo

walking through a smokey fume.. in this sealed up dark room..
I saw your eyes bleeding blue.

 

going up, going down. spin spin around & around
falling to my knees, calling out to God, please
save me from this crucifixion
cut the ties to lifes addictions
spit up the lies you fed, on which I choked
climbing up these ropes
running away from the hoax
insanity, the only word she knows.

 

deep in the dungeon, I go plunging
searching for the meaning
intervening, I come between two scales..
a lions head with three flaming tails.

 

i'm not like this.. you're leading me to be crazy..
one day i'll run, forever away from you, maybe...
like the speed of light, in a flash, little hazy.
there's more for me then this demonic plague..
there's more to life then constant conviction.

 

wrists are shaking & those screams begin to take a toll..
driving round this winding road..
i'm done with your pitiful smold of an existence..
don't act like you know what i'm missing.
so here I plant my feet in the ground, not bending for you now
never again will I twist or turn
because bitch, you've got so much to learn.

thrown under the bus

nowadays all she does is whine about her bodily pains,

but when you were left alone, 

she stayed drunk, prowling the bars

days on end, 

oblivious to the emotional wreckage left

on your chest, like a hot iron

melted through the tender heart of a 10 year old,

the open wound to the 

skin, 

cauterized shut

too soon,

without even leaving any open flesh

for the pain to be released,

seared closed with the shame, pain, and false pride of generations,

sealed in for years like a safety box of magnets,

pulling you towards anything and everything self-destructive

in a desperate search for some morsel of hope,

that the next christmas dinner might be more than 

knocking on the doors of neighbors, being lucky enough to be

asked in to share a holiday meal, 

and an attempt to be noticed for something other than the burden

you were to her deep and fervent longing for 

the escape, into smoke filled rooms,

that reeked with the heavy, putrid smell of week-old frying grease,

cigarettes, and hairspray, that became one of your main

reasons for going to live with your dad--

other than the day she up and left for california,

a 50 dollar bill to substitute her mac and cheese, dribbled with 

one and a half inches of ashes off a pall mall,

only to be less than reluctantly welcomed by him,

and a stepbrother who most always was 

notably more worthy of better dirtbikes, nicer clothes 

and a much more frequent pat on the back 

for a job well done, 

that most often wasn't.

 

a dollar for him and quarter for you, along with the bottom bunk,

that smelled like pee from all the years he wet the bed,

only ever good enough for sloppy seconds--

and then there was brownie,

poor broken down swayback, with skin infections,

baldspots and degenertive bone disease,

in light of your brother's black stallion stud,

as if the 6 inch scar on the back of your leg wasn't enough 

from your father's drunken rage with a 4 inch hunting knife,

and the glass from the window that left it's souvenir the night he threw you

across the room, all before the age of 14.

 

shit.

i may have shot that horse between the eyes too.

 

 

 

 

11:37 PM 6/26/2013

©

 

 

.........

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Just a poem about a kid.

 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=

 

.....

Metallic love

I can't focus... it's getting to me, more each day.. 

my thoughts stretch like clay, & unfortunately mold me, here & there.. 

I wish so much for you to of been able to stay.

was it really mean't to be this way..?

cause I surely feel unsatisfied.. 

comfort is something we all crave.. 

but you were like security to me, & I watched it all get ripped away..

what a waste of a night.. what a realization, I couldn't fight..

 

I miss you more then the depths of the ocean go deep..

some nights like this.. I have trouble trying to sleep.. 

we yearn, we learn.. forever burn...

tables turn..

I want to take back so much i've said..

because they were useless particles floating around in my head..

6 months pass.. everything falls to ash but the memories.. 

 

fuck me for letting other opinions get in the way of my true heart..

fuck them for denying love.. as if they really knew.

sorry I can seem like a rainbow of emotions.. or a bleak cloudy day.. 

but I can promise much sunshine after being drenched in such heavy rain.. 

 

will another 6 months make a difference..?

or would it just be a whole year spent needing you..

it's not like I can't live... or breathe without you..

but it's to the point I really just don't want to... 

sorry about getting "distracted".. 

I don't excpect you to still feel like you need me,

want, love or care about me.. 

though I feel all the same & even more.

 

this incense continues to coil... & I could watch it for hours.

as i'm thinking.. when I die.. would this all of passed right before my eyes?

I want to know that instead of sitting here, waiting..

hoping, wondering.. not knowing.. 

instead, I'll get to see you smile again..

that for me, would never ever be a waste of time.

at least i'd know that's what I did with my last bit of life.

 

I don't know if I have the power anymore to get you to laugh without trying..

or the privilege of being on your mind... 

when I take my last breath, please tear this heart out of my chest..

put it in a jar.. keep it preserved.

if you go first.. i'll remember your wish, if it's still what you'd want.

i'll hold onto yours too.. even though it's no longer beating..

always I will love you.. through my hands this blood is seeping..

like treasure... from the chest.

metallic love..  

Author's Notes/Comments: 

3.12.13..

Eyes of serpentine

the grip of each day grow's tighter... my head keeps feeling lighter..
my heart is falling too heavy to bare.. my throat is clenching..
i'm sorry.. I think I need air... why did you ever bother to care...? 
intoxicated by your gaze.. I don't regret not keeping our distance...
but I didn't know how much I would miss the way your eyes looked, subtle & penetrating, before we'd kiss..
I could sit with you for hours..
watching your hand rolled cigarette burn..
smoke elevates to the corners of your ceiling..
no longer am I granted with such a simply wonderful feeling.
 
I don't need you anymore!
.. but i'll always be there, to care.. even if you think i'm not.. 
no matter how far out I could be.. doesn't matter who you're with.. 
my love isn't blind.. so don't think I can't see..
the distance between us now means nothing to me.

Green Mile

Folder: 
High?

Smoke the marijuana walking down the green mile
Focusing all your attention towards the green scenery
A forest of leaves intensly green as the trees
Mp3 player listening to Jimi Hendrix rest in peace

Stoners around the world celebrate the day 4:20
All smoking a joint, becoming out craving for a munch
Rehab in session recieving a hit from the bong
Water bubbling mellowed in the sound floating along

Mind drifting above, thoughts hightened we sore
Through the window hail half baked represent Jim Brewer
Scar faced, dazed and confused mellowed down not bored
Fuck man, high as a kite senses hightened smokers allure

Pipe the rest of the crystal shake
Cause us to laugh, cause us to bake
New revolution of hippies to take over
Peace and love man, high with Mary Jane we salute her

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Weed and Unity of those who want it Legalized.

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tags:

Black ink oppression

The graze of your touch stings like shards of glass..

making my heart tremble and shake inside it's cage of desolace..

and as i'm with you, I can feel the emptiness seep deeper, my soul is drowning..

leaking of darkness..

 

Black ink of despair. pour it all over me, drench my spirit..

it already feels too heavy to bare.

as you glance over, you'll see I was never really there..
perhaps I was just smoke passing through the air.. 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

9/27/12~

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