The Modern Poet With A Cigarette On The Lips Poem by Bijay Kant Dubey
The Modern Poet With A Cigarette On The Lips
I smoking a cigar
And verses coming to me
Just as the trail of smokes.
The butt held in between the fingers,
A burning, blazing cigar,
Poetry-lines coming to.
Ashes shaken into the tray,
The embers radiating with a few puffs
And again, poetry coming to.
Tuesday, February 4, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: ashes,poetry,smoking
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8/14/2026 1:37:35 AM # rel_20260813T193622Z_3aad590
