Your Problems
You keep smoking your problems,
Like some beast to burn, to learn.
Killing is an art too proud,
Hastening the arrival of death.
My astonishment happened everywhere
When starting a dangerous role.
The kill was being performed from nowhere,
Surprising us still with its meek manner,
Lunch is being served, with ferocity.
May the smoking be condemned
In hats and coats, inside the house as well.
This is the house of every death.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
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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Here Comes President Kill Again
Here comes president kill again,
Surrounded by all of his killing men.
Telling us who, why, where and when,
President kill wants killing again.
Hooray, ring out the bells,
King conscience is dead.
Hooray, now back in your cells,
Weve president kill instead.
Here comes president kill again.
Broadcasting from his killing den.
Dressed in pounds and dollars and yen,
President kill wants killing again.
Hooray, hang out the flags,
Queen caring is dead.
Hooray, well stack body bags,
For president kill instead.
Aint democracy wonderful?
Them russians cant win!
Aint democracy wonderful?
Lets us vote someone like that in.
Here comes president kill again,
From pure white house to number 10.
Taking lives with a smoking pen,
President kill wants killing again.
Hooray, everythings great,
Now president kill is dead.
Hooray, Ill bet you cant wait,
To vote for president kill instead...
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Here Comes President Kill Again
Here comes president kill again,
Surrounded by all of his killing men.
Telling us who, why, where and when,
President kill wants killing again.
Hooray, ring out the bells,
King conscience is dead.
Hooray, now back in your cells,
Weve president kill instead.
Here comes president kill again.
Broadcasting from his killing den.
Dressed in pounds and dollars and yen,
President kill wants killing again.
Hooray, hang out the flags,
Queen caring is dead.
Hooray, well stack body bags,
For president kill instead.
Aint democracy wonderful?
Them russians cant win!
Aint democracy wonderful?
Lets us vote someone like that in.
Here comes president kill again,
From pure white house to number 10.
Taking lives with a smoking pen,
President kill wants killing again.
Hooray, everythings great,
Now president kill is dead.
Hooray, Ill bet you cant wait,
To vote for president kill instead...
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Chimney
this morning...this morning..this morning
the chimney of the desolate house in front of mine
is smoking...smoking...smoking
what a lovely sight
who may be there
on the snow
white smoke onthe white snow
the bare plum tree is
grinning...grinning..grinning
the black crow
on the hazel nut tree
crowing...crowing...crowing
as if life is newly beginning...beginning...beginning
guess..who is there...who is there
behind the yellow lignt seen at night
shining from the desolate window
someone...someone....someone
living. ..emerging from the house
ı wish all the chimneys of the lonely poor smoked
in the wilderness of the cold..cold of the snow
what a happy and a lovely sight
the desolate chimney is smoking...smoking...smoking
ı wish ı were in this old house too
with the mystery of the ancients
where they have come
ı never knew
the desolate house is reviving this morn
ı only see the shadows
growing...growing....growing..and moving
poem by Metin Sahin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hell In House
It's Friday morning
i wake up from my death
i star scream
because i saw blood in the floor
i put my t-shirt and my shoes
and i got from house i got away from
I want to get away from this
to get away from my hell the hell of house
is the most dangerous place
i start to scream
i get away from this hole
i get away from house (house)
i run away from this street
this town
i start to get away from this life and rest in peace
i wish i have and one more chance
I want to get away from this
to get away from my hell the hell of house
is the most dangerous place
and now i wish
i want a really want
to trade this life from an another (another, another)
another place another year another country
please i don't want this!
I want to get away from this
to get away from my hell the hell of house
is the most dangerous place
poem by Sp9ke Draco
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Chronic Smoking In Indonesia
All those millions millions of chain smokers
smoking all over islands Indonesia better stop
cut back your influencing jealous environment
it is November 4th 2010 and today twenty two
volcanoes here are smoking in social sympathy
dudes smoking kills more deadly like disasters
serious loss are your cancer deaths to families
harsh reality unhappiness death is by your hand
poem by Terence George Craddock
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The House In The Middle Of A War Field
There was a house in the middle of a war field,
A conspicuous little dot on the vast patch of land.
And many beasts fought bloody wars around it,
Yet the house unperturbed, remained rooted to the sand.
All doors and windows of this house had been shut for aeons,
Some people lived inside away from the truth, so abominable.
They lived there guarded, sometimes pretended to not hear the cries,
Ignorance being the prime weapon in their arsenal.
One day a curious young girl in the house said something rather strange,
She wanted to see the world outside, she wanted to be freed.
Everyone disagreed, they said its too dangerous and she will perish.
But she didn't fear death, she despised the creed.
It took her decades to convince the others, and after a lot of coaxing they agreed.
Their hollowed souls were tired of simply existing, to them even death seemed like an adventure.
And so for the first time, the rusty doors of the house had opened,
The sun rays heralded a moment of enlightenment.
As the girl with the others took their first step outside,
The grains under their feet felt like acupuncture.
The armed men outside stood transfixed,
Seeing a sight they'd never witnessed before.
As for years they had brooded over the question,
That what lay behind that door.
With a heavenly voice said the girl to the soldiers,
Inside the house you will find the greatest treasures this world has seen.
The men at once dropped their weapons and ran inside the house,
The house now seemed to have lost its sheen.
As the last greedy soldier made his way inside,
The door closed behind him to never open again.
The entire house crumpled beneath its own weight,
Killing each one who entered in vain.
The people were saved all because of the girl,
Her legacy continued and they gave her a name.
Because since that day the dogmatic principles of faith,
Had been definitely put to shame.
poem by SaviorsLavish Human
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Backwater Baby
Down past Possum Road
Up towards the crumbling town
You'll find a house with a little lady
Down by the backwater
Of the trickling little stream
There is a house made of logs
And mud, with one little window
And a smoking chimney
Puffing tiny gray clouds into the bright blue sky.
When you step inside the ramshackle house
You'll hear the incessant crying
Of the backwater baby
Dealing with her own little troubles
By the trickling little stream
In the middle of nowhere, USA
As momma tries her hardest to survive
And daddy long gone, looking for a better life
Leaving the baby to cry.
Momma does what she can to live
Washing clothes for the rich people down the street
Keeping little baby going as best as she can
And singing on the weekends in the bar downtown
Leaving baby alone and crying
In her broken crib
Back at the stream down past Possum Road
In the tiny log house with the smoking chimney
Life goes on.
poem by Megan Ayscue
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Sadistic Sinner
Alone in my house
Full of hate and fear
Your death is near
My passion for killing will take you to death
I slay a victim I torture his wife
They die by my knife
I'm coming for you
So take your last breath
The more I kill, the more the need grows
I dislodge the eyes and hack off the nose
CHORUS
I'm a sadistic sinner
I will slash you at will
It is the devil inside me
Who makes me wanna kill
Evil
And you will die by my hand
Killer
And I'll make you understand
Possessed
Just like the knife in my hand
Killer
He taunts my soul and he twists my mind
The blood of my victims is all they can find
I dismember the body as its blood is being sprayed
I gaze in splendor at the mess I have made
Cold is the blade
I carry in rage
They live in fear
My passion for killing will take you to death
My soul is a demon that no one can save
I spread my disease
I'm coming for you
So take your last breath
The more I kill, the more the need grows
I dislodge the eyes and hack off the nose
CHORUS
I'm a sadistic sinner
I will slash you at will
It is the devil inside me
Who makes me wanna kill
I'm
Sadistic
Sinner
I'll kill you slow, I'll kill you fast
I'm coming for you, I'll kick your ass
song performed by by Incubus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Give Up Smoking Tobacco
A traveller walks with crutches,
passing by me with one leg stretches,
Other leg amputated above the knee,
Enquired I, Why? How?
Said he, one toe became black,
Reduced blood circulation to the little toe
and circulation to adjacent toes
also getting cut;
The history is that he was a smoker
of Beedi - rolled tobacco leaves -
Smoking of Beedi leads to narrowing of blood vessels
supplying the toes, results in clotting of blood;
The toes get gangrenous,
tissue death extends towards the hip
necessitating in amputation
of toes to midthigh;
Give up smoking tobacco
to escape from death of tissues
and removal of toes and lower limbs,
GIVE UP SMOKING TOBACCO!
poem by V.K. Kanniappan
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The Vengeful Poem
you ask if you can burn
a house
then to answer it
you burned one
the family house
where your mom died a week ago
was ashed
you father left
unable to stand you
you handed your arms
they will not take it
they confess
they still love you
when the police officer charged you with arson
they put you in a place where no one knows you
they still protect
as their own brother by blood
all that you have in mind is an escape
you want to burn another house
one day
you told the man next door that you can kill him
he told your brother
who asked you about your scheme
of your first premeditated murder
you said you want to try if you can really kill a man
with your bare hands
you have become uncontrollable
now a lesson must be given to you
you will be captured in this poem
it is inside a rectangular perimeter
there is no exit
now our world shall be calm
and it will be peaceful upon its bed of grass
because
this poem also knows how to kill
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Why Are You Running?
Why are you running so far, so fast?
What are you running from, may I ask?
I don't know, it's just something I must do
Those others are running, do you want to come too?
Why are you smoking so often, so deep
Surely that smoke stings your eyes, makes you weep
I don't know, it's just something I must do
Those others are smoking, do you want to smoke too?
You're all running, all smoking, but you don't know why
You just do it and do it, but it makes me cry
Because I don't like to see people themselves kill
When they don't know why but they do it still
(Sydney, Australia - 2003)
poem by Alessandra Liverani
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Let it Kill
let it kill me and if it doesnt let it try again and again and again till i die, then let it try again and again and finally let it kill me if not then let it try again till i die of pain cause this pain i cannot take, so let it kill until i feel death creep up the corner, let me die with honor or without it just let me die, so let it kill me again and again and if not let it try until i die, for this life i cannot take i have lost all faith so just let me die, let it try to kill me dont set me free come on kill me i refuse mercy or sympathy all i want is death so please let it kill let it send me to death as fast as things go past, let it kill, let it destroy my soul and leave it not whole for i want death, i want death again i say i want death let it kill and if not let it kill again and again till death is all that remain, let it kill
poem by Adens Kamwi
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What Is Death
death is love,
death is peace,
death is all the non-violent things around you,
death will hunt,
death will kill,
death is a fallin' angel,
death is what you will receive,
death is all around you,
death is love,
death is peace,
death is the killing angel of peace,
death will take every last soul,
death will vanish the day we leave,
you can run but you can from death,
he will find you no matter where you go,
death hunt by fear,
death is love,
death is peace,
death is all round.
poem by Jaqualen Roberts
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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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Sonnet: Smoking Kills
He learnt to smoke from adolescent stage;
Yet, kicked the habit never, thereafter;
Now, he is only fifty years of age;
But gone completely is his life's laughter.
He smoked in chains and puffed smoke-rings away;
He is now chained to his smoking habit!
He sits now counting the hours in a day!
And feels his life, ebbing out, bit by bit.
His Lungs have become Cancerous by now;
The blood he coughed, revealed that Death was nigh;
There's no cure; To destiny, he will bow;
This is the case of persons low or high.
Beware, O Man, your smoking can kill you!
Your near and dear ones and some others too.
poem by John Celes
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Smoking is the now the principal avoidable cause of premature death in Britain. It hits the worst off people hardest of all. Smoking is one of the principal causes of the health gap which leads to poorer people being ill more often and dying sooner.
quote by Frank Dobson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Power of the King
Death be not proud
for you have no hold over my life,
Death be not proud
for I cannot die! !
Death be not proud
you instill no fear
Death be not proud
for my King lay down His life for me
Death be not proud
you have no power
you destroy just flesh and bone
you dont have the power to resurrect
Death be not proud
you own me not
for I have been bought
Death be not proud
for my soul shall live on,
In HIS Kingdom is where I belong! !
poem by Melissa Desiree Reddy
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It's Death Again
It's Death again - He's always there -
Watching, waiting - e'er the stare!
Every time I look behind
Or reach to pull the window blind,
I catch a glimpse of grubby hood -
A little clue to where he stood;
The glint of light that caught the scythe.
Perhaps if I could pay a tithe…
But O! no use, he'll never go.
The adamant phantom; don't you know
He will but wait until it's time
For me to hear His fateful chime? -
The toll that claims my destiny,
To Hail: 'You're next, it has to be…'
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
The Reign of Death
Death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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As I Went
As I went, as I went
Over the mountains,
I heard, I heard,
Through cloud-wreath and mist,
A hound that was baying -
Death . . it was death.
As I went, as I went
Over the meadows,
I heard, I heard,
From thicket, from shadow,
A hidden bird fluting -
Death . . it was death.
As I went, as I went
By rocks and by sand-dunes,
I heard, I heard,
At the dea's bottom
A silver fish swimming -
Death . . it was death.
As I went, as I went
In my house, in my house,
I heard, I heard,
A footfall, a footfall
Closely behind me -
Death . . it was death.
poem by Adelaide Crapsey
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