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I Dreamt Of My Father Last Night
I dreamt of my father last night
with an indifferent boy to his height
out from a hazy meadow into my sight
on his face was this grave grin
as he paused a little for me to join
while the boy looked away in vague pain
I might have been curious who he was
but father took out his cigarette case
that exuded its old taciturn wince
humbly I took the cigarette
though we both had long since quit
and leaned forward for father to light it
somehow my rusty puff snuffed out father’s light
the only inexplicable one for the night
while my apologetically lit cigarette was alright
I handed it over for father to light his cigarette
which he puffed hard but could not manage it
even if the two were closely joint tête-à-tête
knowing it was a dream I did not want daylight
in that haziness my cigarette was only thing alight
I waited and waited for father to get his light —
poem by Dr Ronnie Bai
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Wish my pain was a cigarette
Wish my pain was a cigarette,
It would have been touch by you
Wish my pain was a cigarette,
It would have had the comfort of your hand
Wish my pain was a cigarette,
I would have been on your lips
Wish my pain was a cigarette,
It would have been consumed with time
Wish my pain was a cigarette,
It would have ended in an ashtray
Wish my pain was a cigarette,
It would have been thrown away
poem by Secret Shal
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When I Am Alone
now i learned
what they want me to understand
when i am alone
at least i need someone to talk to
someone who listens
and when i am as silent as cigarette stick
lighted
at least something knows
where the smoke may go
i smoke now
but not because i like it
it is a necessity
the smoke at least talks to me
and the light in the cigarette
gives me the eye of the
cinder
a word of light
a comfort of flame
in the dark
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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No Mans Land
City street lights
And the multiple life
But babe you gotta give and go
Cigarette lights
Then my finger alights
I need to be alone
She can take you tonight
She can make you, thats alright
She can break you tonight
Dont misunderstand
Cigarette girls
Goes head in and whirls
You will be a superman
Open her booths
Deal must to the bruiser
Drinking all I can
We can take that tonight
We can make them, thats right
We can break them tonight
Dont misunderstand
The light...
Alone in the light
Alone in the light
In the sea of pain
You can take it tonight
She can make you, thats right
She can break you tonight
Dont misunderstand
cause they cry, and...
Alone in the light
Alone in the light
Alone in the light
In the sea at night
We rode the streets in the morning light
We held our day in our hands
Alone in the light
Alone in the light
Alone in the light
In the sea at night
song performed by by U2
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I'm Sick Of It
I'm sick, sick, sick of cigarette addiction
I'm sick of movies and their dishonest depiction
That smoking is glamorous, sophisticated and cool
When what it really is is something that rules
The cigarette addict from morning to night
And all the hours in between, they can never take flight
From the constant nagging fear that they must inhale the fumes
Of a deadly poison that will lead them to their doom
A cigarette addict can barely do a thing
Without a cigarette, it's got them on a string
They have to smoke it now, it just cannot wait
And then, another and another, they've really taken the bait
A cigarette addict is as helpless as a lamb
On a frosty hillside with no mother to keep it warm
Their mind is so confused that they actually believe
A cigarette is their saviour, they are so deceived
(Sydney, Australia - 2003)
poem by Alessandra Liverani
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You Make Me Want To Be A Man
(Chorus)
I really wanna tell you something
This is just the way I am
I really wanna tell you something, but I can't
You make me want to be a man
Arguments that have no meaning
This is just the way I am
You really wanna tell me something, but you can't
You make me want to be a man
The thunder and the rain called you when you came
We didn't need to say much to communicate
Now it's different; 99% is misinterpreted
Chorus
Every word you say finds a home in me
Nothing that anyone could ever say
Could hurt me like this
Baby please, don't light that cigarette
Don't light that cigarette
Chorus (2x)
song performed by by Utada Hikaru
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Knew The Smoke (To Be A Prayer)
he said:
'i went four years
without a lover,
trying to do the right thing...
then one day i stood up,
packed my few belongings,
and walked off...
in search of...'
i watched him as he rolled
a cigarette, his gnarled hands
sure and steady...
stared at the light in his eyes,
and the doors...
only he knew what
was behind them.
bought him a cup of coffee,
and shook his hand,
no need for words...
wondered if i'd met Jesus,
or the devil,
or if i was looking
into a mirror!
each path, each call,
is different... each heart,
pretty much the same.
i watched him light his cigarette,
and knew the smoke
to be a prayer!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Serene Saturday
Serene Saturday
It's Saturday
and I’m listening to the football
on the radio
It's Saturday
and I’m listening to the football
while slurping my coffee
and having a cigarette
It's not my team who are playing
they play tomorrow
I'm on the brink of falling asleep
but I’m fighting it
My leg is twitching, must be the coffee
I’ve drank too much of it today
Meanwhile my cigarette has burned out in the ashtray
The football has just finished as I wake up,
the classified results are being read out
I light up a cigarette and lie back with my eyes closed
and I remember my dream, 'I’ve had weirder' I think to myself
taking a drag of my cigarette
I wonder, should I get some beer tonight? Decisions, decisions,
yeah, I probably will, maybe cider, yeah, beer and cider...yeah
Andrew Matthews
01/05/2002
16: 26: 01
poem by Andrew Matthews
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Dead Guy Stickers
In the USA,
They want to put dead guy pictures on cigarette packs.
With that brilliant logic in mind, I say put dead guy stickers on:
car windshields(dead guys in wrecks)
pistol and rifle handles (dead guys shot)
marriage licenses (dead spouses)
hamburger and hot dog wrappers (dead fat guys)
pies, cakes (more dead fat guys)
bathroom doors (thousands of dead guys in bathrooms every year)
bicycles (road kill dead guys)
fire places (burnt dead guys)
swimming pools (drown dead guys)
every electrical outlet (fried dead guys)
air plane tickets (dead passenger guys)
the beach (shark bit dead guys)
cities (shot dead guys)
air (blue dead guys)
fish (poisoned dead guys)
motorcycles (more road kill dead guys)
scarfs (strangled dead guys)
football helmets (brain dead guys)
hot tubs (more drowned dead guys)
and so on.
Just about everything can kill you, such as:
Mothers (dead baby guys plus dead fathers)
Fathers (dead baby guys plus dead mothers)
Police(multiple dead guys and chicks)
Drugs (multiple dead guys and chicks)
and so on.
Once everything has a dead guy sticker on it,
You've been warned and the world will be safer, right?
It shows we care, right?
poem by Richard Jarboe
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The light's in my head - Villanelle
There's a light in the sickroom that never goes dead,
Though daylight is dimming, through the still open curtain-
But the light's in my head; the light's in my head!
He lies in a stupor, but calls out from his bed;
And he never complains, but you fear that he's hurting-
There's a light in the sickroom that never goes dead.
She doesn't sleep nights, but sleeps daytimes instead;
Her breathing's still even, but death's near for certain-
But the light's in my head; the light's in my head!
First they said stroke, and then heart attack- dread!
With the new diagnosis, with death he is flirting-
There's a light in the sickroom that never goes dead.
There's cancer and heart disease, so lightly we tread;
It's bad news for sure- her aneurysm bursting! -
But the light's in my head; the light's in my head!
It's all here inside me now, all that I've said,
Now what's left in memory's darkness, I'm cursing;
There's a light in the sickroom that never goes dead-
And the light's in my head- the light's in my head!
poem by Patti Masterman
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Dead Dog
I saw him walking
down the street
dragging dead dog
behind him.
As he saw me
he stopped.
“Dog dead” he said,
pointing at carcass in tow.
A noose around its neck,
entrails exposed,
dead tongue awry,
lifeless eyes
covered with
thin film of dust
staring
at rising globe of fire
in disbelief.
“It happens” I replied.
He sat down,
I lit a cigarette,
offered him one.
“Dog dead”
he said again;
giving me another
chance to marvel
at his God like
insight.
“Your dog? ”
I enquirered,
though not
really caring.
“dog dead”
he answered,
grinning.
“ I take away”
I let it slip.
Got up,
tipped my hat,
wished him
“a nice day”
As life
somehow
kept on
happening
there
and elsewhere:
headstrong,
head on,
I dove
into the sun
lit streets.
poem by Carsten Thomsen
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Taxi Ride
lily is dancing
on the table
we've all been
pushed
too far
i guess on days
like this
you know who your
friends are
just another dead fag
to you that's all
just another light missing
on a long taxi ride
taxi ride
and i'm down to
your last cigarette and
this "we are one" crap
as you're invading
this thing you call
love - she smiles
way too much but
i'm glad you're
on my side
song performed by by Tori Amos from Scarlet's Walk
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Faraway Light.....
light always amazes
me in the dark,
like a firefly that is lost
in the night
it flickers to the view
of my tired eyes
and relaxes me a bit,
like a lighter of a cigarette
in the dark alley of
the slums,
the light that gives me the much needed smoke
to allay some fears
of our
series of deaths,
to appease these
internal wars
unseen by the eyes of
fading humanity
it is the same light that is promised
us
'at the end of the tunnel'
when in the middle of this lost-ness
we have nothing to drink and eat
and no one to talk to
when we see not even the shadow of a bat
of a leaf
because it is too dark and damp
and damn
dead silent,
when i think that it is only i that exist
and no one else
when in the extreme coldness of the silence
like the tip of a metallic knife
one can only remember
abandonment and
betrayal
and killing of one's own brother
kin and
friend and child
every bad thing has always been possible
they all happened and they can never leave you again
they are the tattoos of your
soul
it is only light that can comfort you
and it is very faraway.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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In The Stalls
My life is like a music-hall,
Where, in the impotence of rage,
Chained by enchantment to my stall,
I see myself upon the stage
Dance to amuse a music-hall.
'Tis I that smoke this cigarette,
Lounge here, and laugh for vacancy,
And watch the dancers turn; and yet
It is my very self I see
Across the cloudy cigarette.
My very self that turns and trips,
Painted, pathetically gay,
An empty song upon the lips
In make-believe of holiday:
I, I, this thing that turns and trips!
The light flares in the music-hall,
The light, the sound, that weary us;
Hour follows hour, I count them all,
Lagging, and loud, and riotous:
My life is like a music-hall.
poem by Arthur Symons
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Burnt Out
I sit alone and ponder,
the cards life has dealt.
The dreams that were dismissed,
for the sake of quelling nightmares.
A writer I am says I.
Who recognises the fact?
With cigarette between my fingers,
a hand of solitaire in front of me.
The chances of winning,
decrease with time.
Reluctance is a virtue,
which I no longer posses.
My cigarette is almost finished;
the hand in front of me has fled.
My depression is getting stronger.
What will awake my sleeping mind?
The sun outside might shine,
but the inner light is almost burnt out.
1 June 1981
poem by David Harris
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Purple Heart
As I sit and wait
I can't rest my head
I light my fire
as I smoke another cigarette
your want everything
but you break apart
there's no compromise
inside your purple heart
inside your purple heart
iside your purple
inside your purple heart
I smoke another cigarette
inhale it into my lungs
yes it takes my life away
and then it turns around
oh
song performed by by Puddle Of Mudd from Abrasive
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Medley: Fool For A Cigarette/feelin Good
(sidney bailey)/(j.b. lenoir/jim dickinson)
Uhm, Im a fool for a cigarette
Lord, Im fool for a cigarette
When youve finished choke it cause I wanna smoke it
Lord, Im fool for a cigarette
Mind when you throw your cigarette
Mind when you throw your cigarette
When youve finished choke it cause I wanna smoke it
Lord, Im fool for a cigarette
Lord, Im fool for a cigarette
Uhm, Im fool for a cigarette
When youve finished choke it cause I wanna smoke it
Lord, Im fool for a cigarette
Feelin good, feelin good
All the money in the world spent onl feelin good
Well, the wino met me on the streets
Said, help me on to some sneakin pete
Please, help me brother, I wish you would
cause I feel so bad and I wanna feel good
Feelin good, feelin good
All the money in the world is spent on feelin good
Well, you see them folks all dressed so fine
Dancing, drinking champagne and wine
Theyd pinch your pockets now if they could
cause they aint doing nothing but feelin good
Feelin good, feelin good
All the money in the world is spent on feelin good
Red, yellow, black or tan
Makes no difference: a mans a man
They oughta live together now if they could
Then the whole wide world would be feelin good
Feelin good, feelin good
All the money in the world spent on feelin good
Feelin good, feelin good
All the money in the world spent on feelin good
song performed by by Ry Cooder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One Cigarette
No smoke without you, my fire.
After you left,
your cigarette glowed on in my ashtray
and sent up a long thread of such quiet grey
I smiled to wonder who would believe its signal
of so much love. One cigarette
in the non-smoker's tray.
As the last spire
trembles up, a sudden draught
blows it winding into my face.
Is it smell, is it taste?
You are here again, and I am drunk on your tobacco lips.
Out with the light.
Let the smoke lie back in the dark.
Till I hear the very ash
sigh down among the flowers of brass
I'll breathe, and long past midnight, your last kiss.
poem by Edwin Morgan
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Kind glance at a sorrowful ash tray
The cigarette butts gather day by day
If it counts more than of his age
Like a mountain on the tray top.
I see in the darkness like a firefly
Cigarette moves here & there.
Where those circles of smoke
Gone to the sky?
My brother!
Don't burn yourself
And let the life burns.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Let Your Ego Die
The clock is a ring on her finger
That she checks
When she's out of time
The cigarette's a spike
In the spur of the moment
Digging in her side
She cuts the paper with nails
And her pen is bleeding poetry
Nervous from the sex that she got
And the wine that she spilled
On her clean, white, white sheets
Like to see you, baby,
All torn up inside
Girl you're dead already
So just let your ego die
Girl you're dead already
So just let your ego die
Die, die, die
song performed by by Marilyn Manson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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