joseph carl


The Day Is Your Cigarette


the day is your cigarette
trapped between
your mouth
and your hands

your lip
stick mania
your packed-tunnel folly

the sun inching
closer
closer

The day is your cigarette
creativity in a box
conversation smoldering on
a tray

the day is your cigarette
bought at the corner
store
shared with a poet

filtered to fight back death-thought

the day is your cigarette
chained to the night:
a barbed-wireless connection
to the moon-smoke from your mouth

useless counting of latitude veins
of inhales
and exhales

the day is your cigarette
burning a hole
in your pants
as you nap
in the sun

Submitted: Thursday, May 01, 2008
Edited: Monday, May 05, 2008

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (The Day Is Your Cigarette by joseph carl )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  9. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. foliage, snehanair manikkath
  2. Love Lures Life! - sonnet-, Manjeshwari P MYSORE
  3. Yamashita/Medina Standard, Richard Thripp
  4. drops of dew, binod bastola
  5. Hello, This Is Reez, Rimni chakravarty
  6. Wish You A Good Day, Rimni chakravarty
  7. Rockin' Socks and Paradox, Monk E. Biz
  8. Love dale, SALINI NAIR
  9. Ghost, Jhonas Lumanlan
  10. Eagerly I want to go with you, Gert Strydom

Poem of the Day

poet Edmund Spenser

Of this worlds theatre in which we stay,
My love like the spectator ydly sits
Beholding me that all the pageants play,
Disguysing diversly my troubled wits.
...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]