Life Is At Stake
Between the lips and fingers,
Life is at stake,
O' Cigarette smoking!
poem by V.K. Kanniappan

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Smokin The Herb Again
Yo yo yo, yo, yo yo what
Smoking
Were smoking, were smoking the herb again
Were smoking, were smoking, were smoking the herb again
Were smoking, were smoking, were smoking the herb again
Were smoking, were smoking, were smoking the herb again
Damn, I really wish I could find my sack man
Must have got eaten by pac-man
If I had it I could smoke again
Smoke with my friends to the very end
But now Im trying to comprehend
Whens the next time that Ill smoke again
I need to know, please tell when will we smoke again
I got a buddy, his name is ted
Hes got a problem going through his head
He doesnt know how to puff puff give
But I like so Ill teach him and Ill let him live
Everyday we teach him right
When he divides, we have to fight
But at the end of the trying day
We says its ok and we puff away
Just the other night, I saw you, you were smokin not sharing and being tight
But thats ok, you are my friend, well smoking until the very end
The lessons that we put out, we order you to try it out
Its nice to smoke, yea thats what were all about
Smoking
Were smoking, were smoking the herb again
Were smoking, were smoking, were smoking the herb again
Were smoking, were smoking, were smoking the herb again
Were smoking, were smoking, were smoking the herb again
Hey, ho, hey ho, hey, ho, hey, ho, hey, ho, hey, ho
I smoke, you smoke, we smoke, they smoke, smoking everywhere
I smoke, you smoke, we smoke, they smoke, smoking all together
Smoking
Were smoking, were smoking the herb again
Were smoking, were smoking, were smoking the herb again
Were smoking, were smoking, were smoking the herb again
Were smoking, were smoking, were smoking the herb again
song performed by by Incubus

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Smoking Habit
burns all together
cigarette, lips and the lungs
smoking habit
poem by S.D. Tiwari

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Clowning in the City of Lights
I looked and looked
beyond the deep and the shallow
and connected the dexterity
of my fingers to your brain
Of course you want to know
if I can throw circles
round the Eiffel stake.
And after more looking
I convinced myself life is a circus
and I your smoking puppet
blowing rings
around your Fingers
Yes, YES your Sleight of thOughts
gOt me diZZy and oFF kilter
and I wAnt to be in Paris
a juGGling clOWN just like yOu
~~~
Alex Nodopaka Sep©2009
AD Something
poem by Alex Nodopaka

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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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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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Sonnet- Stop Smoking, Could You Please!
Oh listen Sir, Oh listen please, will you?
“Cigarette smoke is injurious to health”,
And in the stages last what can you do?
Life pathetic turns, despite all your wealth.
Enough’s is enough, please draw the line, will you?
Give up your smoking habit, Now, today!
In life, there are much better things to do;
I plead to you to follow what I say.
All men on earth are imperfect, may be;
Our body, God gave us is so sacred;
It is not late to cease smoking- Be free;
Beware the Killer can pronounce one DEAD.
Oh listen Sir! cease smoking now, TODAY!
This is my Warning, Please and how I say.
poem by John Celes

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Footsteps (Killing F(r) iends On Paper)
The sound of
footsteps
in the gravel
behind you
makes you turn.
Your eyes widen
and your jaw drops
as does your
smoking cigarette.
You stare at me
for a second
or two.
You are not smiling
and though
your mouth moves
it speaks no words.
Gunshot breaks this silence
as your head explodes
in a cloud of red mist
and bone.
I smell gunpowder.
Look down
on your headless torso,
picks op stained
still smoking cigarette,
noticing for the first time
the shotgun in my hand.
My brain is numb.
Voice
sounds strange
and distant
as I call
the Cops.
I feel the wind
I see the sun
I taste metal
I hear the birds
...but not the
2nd gunshot
poem by Carsten Thomsen

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My Mother's friend
she has huge breasts,
her skin is dark like tea my mother makes
she sits with my mother in the kitchen talking crap
they have been there for three hours now
I look through the gap in the door and the frame
She is smoking, her lips kiss the cigarette
She is old enough to be my mother
I wish she was sometimes
I would do everything she asked
I wish she was my mother
poem by Robert Cooper

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Julie and You in Trafalgar Square
Julie sat on one
of the fountain walls
in Trafalgar Square
and lit a cigarette
she looked about her
as if she were onto
something harder
as if she had some one
looking at her
from some secret place
you gazed at her
unused to seeing her
not in her hospital
dressing gown
and slippered feet
her hair had been brushed neat
and makeup applied
and she said
I was picked up here
some months back
by some guy
who wanted sex
he thought
I was a pro
and the things
he asked for
god that was the worse
and with that
she paused
and stared at the Square
at the people
and the pigeons
and she inhaled deep
and then exhaled
blowing the smoke
out of the corner
of her mouth
like you'd seen done
in the movies
what did you say
to the guy
who picked you up
and what did he want
you to do?
she looked at you
her eyes scanning
your features
and then leaning closer
she said
I told him I wasn't
a whore and to go off
some place else
you watched her fingers
holding the cigarette
the way she held it
between her fingers
as if it was some
precious item she'd found
what did he want you to do?
you asked
he wanted sex
in all my orifices
she whispered
before inhaling again
the cigarette was clamped
between her lips
and she rubbed
her fingers
on her jeans
she screwed up her eyes
against the smoke
my grandfather said
if it wasn't for whores
more women
would be raped
and attacked
you said
that guy was a creep
he smelt of strong aftershave
and body odour
she said
what a combination
you said
she stumped
the cigarette butt
onto the wall
and flicked it
across the Square
let's go and view the art
in the Gallery behind us
she said
and you followed her
to the Portrait Gallery
her buttocks swaying
like some ship at sea
the jeans tight
and clinging
and across the Square
church bells were pulled
and were ringing.
poem by Terry Collett

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Miles Is A Cigarette
The weak and hazy shades of winter sun
Come shining through
Lifting fog from the trees and a gentle warm breeze
Send it up in to the blue
Blue sky and you come creeping through my soul
Goodbye our loves smoking too
And the sound of those italian engines
Is much more the sound of you
Miles was a cigarette smoky and long
Gonna miss what I never had
Now that cigarette is gone
song performed by by Chris Rea

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dubrovnik 1972.
Dubrovnik seemed
a second home,
and you, in a street
cafe, sat drinking coffee,
with that book on
Schopenhauer open
on the table, a cigarette
smoking in an ashtray
unattended, thinking
of the girl in the hotel
restaurant the night
before, the waitress
who smiled at you as
she served and went
by your table, and your
brother said, I don't
fancy yours much,
indicating with a nod
of head, another
waitress over by a
nearby table, plump
and spotted, wearing
a scowl instead of a
smile, and all the while,
he eyeing, as young
men do the beauty
that had caught your
eye going by, but all is
fair in love, so men
have said, so picking
up the book on
Schopenhauer, and
further reading,
holding the cigarette
between the fingers
of the hand not
turning pages, you
inhaled with deep
concentration the
smoke and words
spread across the
page, written by a
philosopher of a
foreign tongue
and different age.
poem by Terry Collett

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Cigarette smoking
To hell with cigarette smoking
I am coughing like I am choking
Over-looking those approaching
To give me lectures and some coaching
On the possible side effects
That I know of already, like cancer
I am no idiot, just a helpless intellect
To the cigarette
I say you wanker
For turning my life around
Instead of letting me down
Now I constantly smell
Like a polluted well
This daily consumption
Is becoming a costly addiction
Make it a New Year resolution
Give up, give up
Before you take another drag
Of that audacious fag
Stop, think, and stop!
2005 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi

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Smoker
I billowed calmly as a cloud
Upon a course for acid rain,
When in the fog of smoking crowd,
My lungs collapsed in searing pain.
Full of soot and black with tar,
I coughed in vain for chest to clear;
At least my lungs had got this far
Despite my years of toxic air.
But Smokers' Lounge was home to me,
Where fellow addicts puff with joy:
Our pipes in hand, all friends are we,
‘Let's fine cigars now share, my boy! '
‘So gasp away! ' my motto cries,
‘And light another cigarette
Before a further smoker dies,
Which happens often - you can bet! '
Copyright © Mark Raymond Slaughter 2009
life life life life life life life life life
life life life life life life life life life
life life life life life life life life life
life life life life
poem by Mark R Slaughter

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Stake Stake Stake
Stake, stake, stake,
on the green felt fabric thrown, -
the croupiers, awake,
the players, weary, grown.
O well for the novice who
can cash in lucky play,
O ill for the gambler too,
rash not to end his stay
as the golden chips go on
back to stack within the till, -
but O for the touch of a vanish’d hand,
and woe for the crushing bill!
Stake, stake, stake,
while a camera all can see,
records both banks which break,
and counts accounts’ red plea!
poem by Jonathan Robin

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Impotence is one of the major hazards of cigarette smoking.
quote by Loni Anderson

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Anti Tobacco
Walking down, I see half- burnt killer pipes,
Lying on the streets, after hurting many lives..
The silly lips who touch the burning devil,
Are to be dead soon, can't sign even their 'will'!
I see the teeth chewing the tobacco products,
In the surroundings of the stores of betel nuts..
There's one each in the corner of every street,
But dozens of people gathered around for the treat!
When it is printed on the box itself,
That smoking is injurious to health..
Why dare to smoke with a sip of tea?
And compete with the smoke clouds; How pleasing to see!
The Government fell through to make them aware,
They carry on smoking; None does care..
The roll of paper is burnt even by boys of sixteen,
To face the fatal consequences of nicotene..
One day, like the cigarette, your face would burn,
Diseases, cancers and then it is Death's turn..
And when you're being wished farewell on your deathbed,
Nothing but tears will reveal you regret..
One would ask 'How can you make the Death Prediction? '
I say, ' I'm clever enough to know the results of this worst addiction! '
For the sake of mankind, I would like to advise,
'Leave smoking, Behave wise! '
poem by Abhinit Chute

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Myths And Misconceptions
The tooth fairy's not real, nor is the Easter Bunny
It's your Mummy and Daddy who cough up the money
And Santa Claus with his red coat and sackful of gifts
He's just a fable, a fabrication, a myth
Now take the cigarette monster, huge and alarming
Many believe him to be, but he's actually quite charming
Once you get to know him, behind his fierce, brutish features
He's really the most amiable of creatures
But there are many who believe with an unswaying fervour
If you don't smoke a cigarette, he will commit murder
So they keep smoking constantly all through each and every day
And sadly don't realise that he just wants to play
poem by Alessandra Liverani

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csl Mind Play
chain smoking lady
cigarette in hand
mind playing de man
poem by Terence George Craddock

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Listening to a news broadcast is like smoking a cigarette and crushing the butt in the ashtray.
quote by Milan Kundera

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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