The Smoking Book
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| Blog Name: | The Smoking Book |
| Url: | http://thesmokingbook.blogspot.com |
| Language: | English |
| Topics: | poetry, publication, anthology |
| Description: | Poetry (any form or style) wanted for an anthology on SMOKE. Not just the black clouds rising from the five-alarm fire next door, or the billowing plumes of smoke warning us of a forest fire, or the emissions from factory smoke stacks, apartment house incinerators, and crematoriums, smoke rings rise from cigarettes, smoke pours out of head shops, pipe shops & cigar stores--see that purple haze rising over the fields of poppies and marijuana we just planted--we've used it to communicate via smoke signals and skywriting, to cover our tracks and disappear with and without mirrors, combat the enemy on and off the battlefield, kill bugs, flavor food, cure illness, declare peace treaties, and fragrance our homes. Got the idea? Release it onto the page. |
| Popularity: | 56 Followers |
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Bluetry Coming Full Circle I Smell Smoke
I'm blown away in the smoke of my mind created by the smoke of the eye mind of your mind. I'm gonna take a sip of that southern smoked cooking, finger lickin' chickin charcoal broiled smoke embers rising from ashes I'll meet you there after I get me some smoked salmon mr brant, I love me some sm
I'm blown away in the smoke of my mind created by the smoke of the eye mind of your mind. I'm gonna take a sip of that southern smoked cooking, finger lickin' chickin charcoal broiled smoke embers rising from ashes I'll meet you there after I get me some smoked salmon mr brant, I love me some sm
Homeopathic
When my son saw melight up on a summer’s eve,he cried, “Dad, you’re going to die!”Now I sit with a cigarin the rain, barely kept dryby the overhang.I don’t inhale but can feelhow smoke works its wayinto the soft meat of my jaw.My dad smoked Lucky Strikesand couldn’t ever quitbut died in water, not by fire.Water surrounds me now,falls fast, dripsthrough snarl of branches.I draw in the smoke,watch the rim of embersgrin beneath the ash.Are you in this moist air?The woods reply with silenceas nicotine surges in my blood.
When my son saw melight up on a summer’s eve,he cried, “Dad, you’re going to die!”Now I sit with a cigarin the rain, barely kept dryby the overhang.I don’t inhale but can feelhow smoke works its wayinto the soft meat of my jaw.My dad smoked Lucky Strikesand couldn’t ever quitbut died in water, not by fire.Water surrounds me now,falls fast, dripsthrough snarl of branches.I draw in the smoke,watch the rim of embersgrin beneath the ash.Are you in this moist air?The woods reply with silenceas nicotine surges in my blood.
“Inhale”
Grandfather picked me up each morning at seven a.m.His car was filled with smoke. I choked.A Marlboro protruded from his lipslike a chipped white oar, then more butts soon heldbetween two crooked fingersas he gripped the steering wheel hardand slowly maneuvered the old black Ford Falconup Anstice Street in Oyster Bay. His smoke mixed with grey exhaust fumesfrom the car and it wasn't far before I'd have to crack the window as we drove past Saint Dominic's chapel,and further up the hill: still the fumes poked through rusted holes in the car's frame, a toxic inhale,contracting my brain a
Grandfather picked me up each morning at seven a.m.His car was filled with smoke. I choked.A Marlboro protruded from his lipslike a chipped white oar, then more butts soon heldbetween two crooked fingersas he gripped the steering wheel hardand slowly maneuvered the old black Ford Falconup Anstice Street in Oyster Bay. His smoke mixed with grey exhaust fumesfrom the car and it wasn't far before I'd have to crack the window as we drove past Saint Dominic's chapel,and further up the hill: still the fumes poked through rusted holes in the car's frame, a toxic inhale,contracting my brain a
Apocalypse
He smiled a carnivorous smile and stuck a lit cigarette between his teeth. "I'm not going to tell you. You'll have to find them yourself." He was trying to be funny but he was never funny when he was trying. "Just give me a cigarette. You're really pissing me off." She looked away from him. "Really you know, you're not funny.""Guess the brand name and you win one." He could tell she wasn't amused so he threw her a cigarette from his pocket. "You're no fun sweetie, no fun. When we first met, you weren't like this. You're so neurotic now."She picked up the cigarette and lit it. It tasted funny and suddenly she no longer wanted it. She could feel the smoke pass down her throat and
He smiled a carnivorous smile and stuck a lit cigarette between his teeth. "I'm not going to tell you. You'll have to find them yourself." He was trying to be funny but he was never funny when he was trying. "Just give me a cigarette. You're really pissing me off." She looked away from him. "Really you know, you're not funny.""Guess the brand name and you win one." He could tell she wasn't amused so he threw her a cigarette from his pocket. "You're no fun sweetie, no fun. When we first met, you weren't like this. You're so neurotic now."She picked up the cigarette and lit it. It tasted funny and suddenly she no longer wanted it. She could feel the smoke pass down her throat and
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