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for 10 år siden 0 +0 / -0 1095

Great poem my friend; I really enjoy reading your contributions. Duffis

for 10 år siden 0 +0 / -0 2534

In Anticipation

Counting the days,

Time ticks away.

England awaits

One so fair,

So sweet,

Soon to greet,

And meet once more.

With open door,

Arms outstretched.

Smiles so bright,

Let love ignite.

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for 10 år siden 0 +0 / -0 2534

Kind of apt at the moment! (Perhaps that was why it was penned!)

Rain

Dark skies threaten every day,

Heavily falls the rain.

Sodden turf, dripping eaves,

Roadway rivers, bending trees.

Windswept landscape, soaked by storm,

Lines down, tarps torn.

Lampposts swaying, umbrellas failing,

Walkers struggling to keep their feet.

Daylight darkness fills the room,

Lost power compounds the gloom.

Glorious weather, pouring down,

Welcome to my London Town.

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for 11 år siden 0 +0 / -0 2534

IN THE BLEAK MIDWINTER

In the bleak midwinter, frosty wind made moan,
Earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone;
Snow had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow,

In the bleak midwinter, long ago.

—Christina Rossetti (Dante's sister!)

Who'd want to go outside and smoke in that?!

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for 11 år siden 0 +0 / -0 2534

Bump. Just cos..........................

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for 12 år siden 0 +0 / -0 2534

Walk on a rainbow trail;

Walk on a trail of song,

And all about you will be beauty.

There is a way out of every dark mist,

Over a rainbow trail.

Navajo Song

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for 12 år siden 0 +0 / -0 2534

Smoking - S Barnard October 26, 2007

What a curse
Addicted aged ten
It was fashion then
We boys where men

Caught at school
Dad went mad
Won't forget the hiding I had
At fifty-three believe you me
The curse of smoking
I have seen
Many
Eyes so red teeth so bad
Skin so poor hair so dead
Yellow stained fingers
Holes burned in the bed
Stinking clothes
Breath like stale ashtrays
Smells like something dead
Then at the end
The faithful Smoker reaps the reward
A trophy in remembrance
A name sadly added
To those thousands who die daily
By the curse of smoking mainly
They never gave up never even tried
For the sake of those who truly love me
I stopped not easy
So can you
Please do

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for 12 år siden 0 +0 / -0 2534

Here's one for the girls!

In youth, it was a way I had,
To do my best to please.
And change, with every passing lad
To suit his theories.

But now I know the things I know
And do the things I do,
And if you do not like me so,
To hell, my love, with you.

-Dorothy Parker

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for 12 år siden 0 +0 / -0 2534

She is nervous as her hand

Reaches for the lighter that sits gently

In a young man's curled fist.

She quivers as his loose fingers put a

Cigarette

Between her pale shaded lips.

It's a little less than a suicide.

It's a little more than a bad habit.

But somewhere, she got lost between the two.

A pack a day is a heavy price to pay.

-- Chelsie Crilly

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for 12 år siden 0 +0 / -0 2534

More Milligan - prose but poetry to my ears!

Remind anyone of anything?

Spike Milligan describes the paroxysms of the heavy smokers among his fellow WWII soldiers having their first cigarette of the day.

"As the cough rose up the inflated throat, the whole six colours were pushed up into the victim's face. It had now reached the inner mouth; the last line of defense, the cheeks, were blown out to the size of football bladders. The climax was nigh. The whole body was now a purple shuddering mass. After several mammoth attempts to contain the cough, the mouth would finally explode open! Loose teeth would fly out, bits of breakfast and a terrible rasping noise filled the room. Aweeioussheiough!! Followed by a long, silent stream of spume-laden air; on and on it went until the whole body was drained of oxygen, the eyes were popping, and veins like vines standing out on the head, which was now down 'twixt the knees."

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