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incense, sweat
flower-scent and
candle smoke
and yes, burnt good years
charred goodbyes
mortar fire
rotten hellos
and tear gas
earthy tobacco
from cigars lit
in a four-star mouth
stench of fear
the smell of terror
from a furious horde
reeking of dying heroes
of these domestic wars
and splattered brains
of us
poets
the ones
whom you do not
know
the ones whom you
do not notice
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
I did the cover of Cigar Aficionado, so I'm supposed to talk about loving cigars. I've smoked them a couple of times. My father used to smoke cigars. I love the idea and the concept, and I love the smell of cigars.
quote by Gina Gershon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Smell Of A Woman
The smell of a woman,
When I am down there.
There's nothing on earth,
That quite can compare.
Earthy, moist, steamy, and rare,
Like tropical flowers perfuming the air.
The smell you find, at a womans core,
will make you want her, more, and more.
I can smell a woman across the street,
Way before our eyes will meet.
That delicate scent carried on the breeze,
Coming from a woman, seeking release.
The scent of a woman, when she is in heat,
You'll find yourself commonly looking for it.
And when I find it, it's a matter of time,
Till close up I smell that scent so sublime.
The smell of a woman all over my face,
The sweet scent of a woman, will have me crazed.
Don Juan Tenorio
poem by Don Juan Tenorio
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Simply, For You
why is it so hard to talk
to the one you love most...
when time and years and chapters,
testify in tired feet?
the wars have ended,
the guns are now still.
even the storm left,
a candle lit by the bed.
do i know you?
do you know me?
or are we the sound...
of doors opening and closing?
i cant say your name
without something in me dying...
i cant see the sky,
without seeing your face.
are we so old,
has time written our epitaph?
just old polaroids,
in an album boxed up....
i brush against you,
and wolves howl in the moonlight.
the soft look in your eyes,
tastes like rain.
you open your mouth,
and swallows fly...
have i set the nest on fire,
laying brick in the sun?
yet i am not dead,
and neither are you....
you smell like thunder,
i burn in the night!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Three Palinodias - 01
"Incense is hut a tribute for the gods,--
To mortals 'tis but poison."
THE smoke that from thine altar blows,
Can it the gods offend?
For I observe thou hold'st thy nose--
Pray what does this portend?
Mankind deem incense to excel
Each other earthly thing,
So he that cannot bear its smell,
No incense e'er should bring.
With unmoved face by thee at least
To dolls is homage given;
If not obstructed by the priest,
The scent mounts up to heaven.
poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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Where Is The Fire?
Where is the fire
That burnt in freedom fighters
Making them selfless
Dying for our independence
Where is the fire
That burnt in J.M and Ouko
And others who were felled
Making them love truth
For it, paying the ultimate price
Where is the fire
That burnt in the then leaders
Making them fearless
Suffering for multiparty politics
Where is the fire
That burnt in civil rights activists
The poor peoples defenders
And others who attended kamukunjis
Where is the fire
That burnt individualism
In dire times of crises
Where is the fire?
poem by Kelvin Karani
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Whose Faces, Whose Souls?
stripping layers of burnt skin
from lifeless bodies...
digging shallow ditches with tractors.
smoke filled silent skies.
the screams of the dying
swallowed up unheard...
the gods turn their heads,
and the trees that wept
are now on fire....
the stench of emptiness...
glass broken on the sands.
who sent the planes?
who pulled the triggers?
whose faces, whose souls?
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Maybe I Am Already Somewhat Half-Forgotten (Roundel)
As the leaves, their smell, their scent half-rotten
are with the homecoming wishing me well
maybe I am already somewhat half-forgotten.
As the leaves, their smell,
does remind me, does a thousand stories tell,
of days that will always be unforgotten
of when I was under your charming spell
of the kisses that at a time were gotten
when we did meet deep in the dell
but unforgettable, life now is rotten,
as the leaves, their smell…
poem by Gert Strydom
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The smells of Football
Football has it's own smells
from the grass on the pitch
to the aroma from the Hot Dog stalls.
In the dressing room there's sweat
strong odour coming from ointments
being rubbed into aching muscles.
On the terraces you smell beer
years ago there was tobacco too
on Boxing Day the whiff of cigar smoke.
As a boy my mothers washing powder
making my kit smell nice and fresh
and getting rid of mud and grass stains.
The smell of leather of a new pair
of football boots and new ball
and layers of thick black polish.
At the half-time break in a match
onto the field came a large tray
full of sweet smelling and tasty Oranges.
These are the smells of Football
the odours of the Beautiful game
and for some the sweet smell of success.
poem by Kevin Halls
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The Burning Of The Temple
Fierce wrath of Solomon,
Where sleepest thou ?
0 see, The fabric which thou won
Earth and ocean to give thee-
0 look at the red skies.
Or hath the sun plunged down ?
What is this molten gold-
These thundering fires blown
Through heaven, where the smoke rolled ?
Again the great king dies.
His dreams go out in smoke.
His days he let not pass
And sculptured here are broke,
Are charred as the burnt grass,
Gone as his mouth's last sighs.
poem by Isaac Rosenberg
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The flower's scent-Sonnet
The flower's scent for the moon's highness
Is like red of hero leaving his battle far away!
Forever he lives with his induced blindness
'Cause his courage disappeared in the spring of May!
The honest Helen of Troy in her inner fire bent
Her strange memory there wanting forever to lye!
Don't blush her truth and the flower's scent
Don't ever stir the scent of any opened lie.
The indifference and the hate usually can twist
The power of the Rainbow-Queen with a false tear
The rose of the flower's sense maybe don't exist
Even when looking after them very, very near!
The realistic cruelty of any clever black heart
Is to make the sense of any blame a work of art.
poem by Marieta Maglas
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My Flower
A scent lingering in the
room
has led me to this very bloom.
A scent so fragrant,
A scent so grand,
A scent so strong it could
spread across the land.
A shade of golden-brown
is something that will not make me frown.
A flower so beautiful,
a flower that's for me
makes me bend on this very
knee.
The allure, scent, and attraction
is enough to control my very
action.
Don't worry, she's not only your flower,
she's my flower.
poem by Casey Jarrell
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Cyber War
I have heard of many great nations
That rose and fell like sand-mansions
Many great empires were built
And inscrutably ruined in a single tilt.
Be it a Golden Horde of Byzantine
Either Roman or Ottoman line
Whether weighed in billions or dime
All fell in the clutches of time.
I have heard of many great wars
And what they left behind scars
Gallic Wars and War of Devolution
Baron's war and War of the Bavarian succession
Then we hear of the World War one and two--
All they brought was nothing but woe;
Why talk about civil wars waged in all lands
Either fought by militia or guerilla bands,
By heroes, warriors or traitors
With scuds, bombers or Jet fighters
The age of science thus upgraded the fights
To either cold war or the conflict of rights;
While the losses of wars not yet forgotten
So many rulers will probably be rotten
In the battlefield of science and trade war
Leaving us all to either make or mar,
And if we still happen to survive
Just wait for the Cyber war to arrive.
poem by Chen S. Nagar
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Les Cigares Volants
We are here waiting
A few know this place
With our lens were looking
Scrutinize the space
Flying cigars
A given name for UFO:s
Flying cigars
Fire this one and watch the show
In the sky dancing
They are telling a story
Back and forward moving
An awesome scenery
Flying cigars
The coolest name for UFO:s
Flying cigars
Up in the sky, anything goes
Makes me high!
Turns me on!
There are some making loops
There are some spinning round
There are some caught in flames
And some land on the ground
Flying cigars
Give me a ride to Mars on these flying cigars
song performed by by Voivod
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cockatoo Twelve Years On '1995
It's been more than twelve years so they tell me since the flames of death passed through
Since the fire that caused destruction burnt it's way through Cockatoo
Lives were lost and houses burnt down blackened miles of countryside
And people wept for lost possessions for their life time work destroyed.
Tears for houses burnt to ashes, tears for lives lost in fierce flame
Tears for trees and paddocks blackened some say 'fire bug '
was to blame
Cockatoo a place of mourning only blackness to be seen
Only smell of smoke and burn out not one sign of Nature's green.
Twelve years on things seem so different Cockatoo looks green today
And who'd believe if you had not known that huge fire had burnt this way
Some still talk of their great losses and the hardships they'd been through
But they recovered built new houses and still live in Cockatoo.
Nature is her own best healer, Nature the true friend of man
Blackness caused by fire and burn out only last for a brief span
Cockatoo is one example what a change twelve years can bring
On green gum tree by the rail track i can hear the shrike thrush sing.
Here in cockatoo this morning fresh and pure the mountain air
Green the trees and green the paddocks green as i've seen anywhere
Twelve years back a blackened wasteland see how green she looks today
Nature is her own best healer and nature always has her way.
poem by Francis Duggan
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For To Celebrate War
For to celebrate war there's always one more parade
And out of war warriors heroes are made
Only the good die young some are known to say
But I know good people who are old and gray.
The praises of war leaders many may sing
But those who declare war on others do it as a power thing
Though many with my thinking may not agree
Those who declare war on terror are major terrorists to me.
Millions of human beings through the centuries in wars have suffered and died
And wars through the ages have been fought Worldwide
And still we have wars and talks of more wars today
Of our human capacity to learn from past mistakes of us what does this say?
It can lead to acts of aggression patriotic pride
And religion, nationalism, patriotism and racism are the things that divide
People of all Nations who live everywhere
And over them more wars are fought in the big World out there.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Catching Fire
Glowing embers, remnants of a world past.
Life is dying, its energy expiring fast.
The last hope for life to survive is fading out and we're stuck drowning in a sea of doubt!
-
Burnt out timber, shadows of what use to be.
Lord God! Start a fire inside me!
So many are burnout, no fire left, to our flaking ashes we cleft.
-
Someone needs to ignite the fire, bring us back to life!
Keep us alive, don't let the darkness suffocate the light:
So many of us, burnt-out, dead, and alone, We need fire in the bones!
-
We're sitting here, waiting for someone to catch fire-dying-
Sitting here warming benches, not even trying.
By our lack of faith, we condemn ourselves to die!
-
Waiting for God to move, but God has already done so.
While we're stalling, he's calling us to go!
But we're waiting for fire, that's already here, but we won't commit because of our fear.
-
Haunted by a fear of the unknown, that we can't survive.
We sit and kill, the very life we're trying to revive.
Waiting for someone else to move, with the blame on our heads, we refuse to push ahead.
-
If you don't move, and he besides you doesn't move,
Who's going to keep the fire, that runs this world, tell me who?
So I'm catching fire, hoping others catch fire with me: catching fire to set men free, are you with me?
poem by Joses Tirtabudi
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Heart Of The Flower
Now at the station, the train to another land
Lands of never seen light, light hidden in infinite night
Night in its biggest might, might of the strongest power
And there the smoke of the train to the heart of the flower
I take the first train to the heart of the flower
I take the first train to the heart of the flower
And there the smoke of the train to the heart of the flower
And there the smoke of the train to the heart of the flower
The waiting room of kingdom come, I look back upon my life
Life of loss but now the end
End of rat race overdrive
Overdrive to foreign lands
Lands of contemptous hours
And there the smoke of the train to the heart of the flower
Now on the train
This is the end of my day
I feel my spirits escape like a musical clock thats dying away
I turn once again and wave my hand and say goodbye
I never thought its so easy
I never thought its so easy
I take the first train to the heart of the flower
I take the first train to the heart of the flower
And there the smoke of the train to the heart of the flower
And there the smoke of the train to the heart of the flower
The heart of the flower
The heart of the flower
The heart of the flower
Diamond/1990
song performed by by Alphaville
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Garnished With A Flower
Each life is garnished with a flower
our loved ones smell when we die.
They smell the scent when we visit
to say our last goodbye.
We drift among them
at that fateful time
and the flowers scent
is to let our presents known.
We wish them no ill tidings
but just to let them know
that we have now joined
our lord near his heavenly throne.
31 August 2009
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Port of Tuban
At the mouth of the river overlooking the Java Sea
You tie up your boat
Near the gate
You jump to the horse without a saddle
Trains in the car park inn
The coachman, while the horses were fed
The coachman chatting in the coffee shop, while smoking
Accompanied-svelte svelte, swing-swing and talk Nudity
Delicate fingers thrusting cupcake
China steam wine, glasses handed the svelte
Mingle with tobacco smoke
Swirl by kitchen smoke
affair with the roof of the hall wuwungan
interim pastor
The pupil burned incense and incense
while reciting prayers to Goddess Durga
Shiva's wife
As a prayer for Ancient Desires
Does not know age
Not familiar with the space and time
Because of that desire
Maya sheer
World of shadows
Maya world
poem by Prasetya Utama
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Ghosts.
Grew
That soft scented flower.
Between the rocks of my life.
Choking
In that desert of no hope.
Dying of thirst.
A balloon
Must float away or burst.
Blue
The lips of death.
Between a beating heart
And a lovers last breath.
Cascading
From the clouds
Masquerading
In the crowds.
That sunstruck smile.
From the wand of a wizard
Skating
On moonbeams
Of a lake
That doesn't exist.
Like the first time we kissed.
Flew
Like a bird of silver wing.
In silent sky.
Froze in its flight.
To pose
Memory in white.
As brushstrokes of black
Paint
The night.
Then fire
From the dragons mouth.
And smoke.
Forcing migrant dreams
To fly south.
And evoke
A far off spirit
That rang
Of innocence.
With sweet eyes,
Like a bell
Of Sunday sacrament.
Now
Lost in a haze
Of unsaid goodbyes.
Blown out to sea
On the hiss of a wind.
That love never pinned
On its sleeve.
Left alone.
Our bright star,
And forgotten cantata
Will kiss those ghosts
We all grieve.
poem by Kevin East
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