The Cigarette Poem by alexander j watt
The Cigarette
when i imbibe
the ash
of a flicker of coal
wrapped in leaf
mixed in air
my whole joy
explodes
and is extinguished
a moment later
by the exhale
leaving just the glowing
wick
of the next explosion
this pistoning
of exhilaration
ruins me,
once i dreamt
i fed a cigarette machine
with my own
quivering flesh
my blood
sticking to my lip
flecks of it on
my teeth
as i coughed
turning white
loudly exclaim
the evil
in a puff of smoke
and be smug
in your glass dome -
don't you understand?
I am no
seedy individual
my way
is the way of
the dragon
i see through his eyes
everything
is in decay
this mortal cylinder
is just another way
I had not smoked for years
untill today
(2008)
Yoonoos is right, this is a fine piece of writing. Communication, communication, communication. Greenwolfe 1962
I smoke and have one since I was te years old without any apparent ill effects I am hale and hearty still at 74 My father was a smoker too but gave up for his health at ninety Resuming after a five year break because he felt no better..The anti smoking brigade kill off more people with stress than smoking does
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/26/2024 9:59:32 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Sadly I know of two people who have been badly effected by smoking. Some might be lucky but I guarentee you, it has it's effects. Love the impactful statement you made in this line 'the evil of a puff of smoke' Well done.