Smoking poems from famous poets and best beautiful poems to feel good. Best smoking poems ever written. Read all poems about smoking.
The wind was a torrent of darkness upon the gusty trees,
The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
The road was a ribbon of moonlight looping the purple moor,
And the highwayman came riding-
One Christmas was so much like another, in those years around the sea-town corner now and out of all sound except the distant speaking of the voices I sometimes hear a moment before sleep, that I can never remember whether it snowed for six days and six nights when I was twelve or whether it snowed for twelve days and twelve nights when I was six.
What thoughts I have of you tonight, Walt Whitman, for I walked down the
streets under the trees with a headache self-conscious looking at the full moon.
In my hungry fatigue, and shopping for images, I went into the neon fruit
After that hot gospeller has levelled all but the churched sky,
I wrote the tale by tallow of a city's death by fire;
Under a candle's eye, that smoked in tears, I
Wanted to tell, in more than wax, of faiths that were snapped like wire.
We decided to have the abortion, became
killers together. The period that came
changed nothing. They were dead, that young couple
who had been for life.
call it the greenhouse effect or whatever
but it just doesn't rain like it used to.
I particularly remember the rains of the
I’m no genie or Houdini,
I’m The Famous Rob Kabob.
Hocus-pocus I must focus,
I must think to do my job.
If I were tickled by the rub of love,
A rooking girl who stole me for her side,
Broke through her straws, breaking my bandaged string,
If the red tickle as the cattle calve
How beautiful is the rain!
After the dust and heat,
In the broad and fiery street,
In the narrow lane,
Slow dulcimer, gavotte and bow, in autumn,
Bashõ and his friends go out to view the moon;
In summer, gasoline rainbow in the gutter,
If ever I saw blessing in the air
I see it now in this still early day
Where lemon-green the vaporous morning drips
Wet sunlight on the powder of my eye.
If I were a cinnamon peeler
I would ride your bed
And leave the yellow bark dust
On your pillow.
Siwashing It Out Once in Suislaw Forest
I slept under rhododendron
All nightblossoms fell
As silent as a mirror is believed
Realities plunge in silence by . . .
I am not ready for repentance;
Nor to match regrets. For the moth
out of the arm of one love
and into the arms of another
I have been saved from dying on the cross
While you, my Lord, the rural shades admire,
And from Britannia's public posts retire,
Nor longer, her ungrateful sons to please,
For their advantage sacrifice your ease;
The days of the future stand in front of us
Like a line of candles all alight----
Golden and warm and lively little candles.
The days that are past are left behind,
People often say to me
“What can you tell me about yourself”
guess it’s my duty to explain to them
and so I look them in the face and reply
I was taking math tests during elementary school.
The math tests were pretty easy.
But, I needed 100% grades for a nice reward.
What was the nice reward?
The fact is i was coming back from smoking at the back of the house, hence i saw a certain guy sitting in a car and for this reason i saw an illusion reading a certain paper, which seemed like it is my plan and as a result he even confirmed that he is going to read it by force no matter what i can do for this matter.
The fact is i was smoking on top of my bed, hence i felt my younger brother Lefa's feeling making me to lose weight on my way and for this reason after few seconds a feeling of my blanket followed for this matter.
The fact is i was smoking during the day next to the kitchen, hence i thought about my plan to compose about behavior after smoking and for this reason i heard a certain sister from my neighbor who goes by the name of Tshepi having a conversation with a certain sister who lives not far from my home for this matter.
The fact is this sister who was having conversation with Tshepi claimed something which surprised me, hence i heard a voice like i have said it in my biography that i am hearing voices because i am mentally disabled and for this reason she claimed in an undermining way that i will write about behavior when they don't see that and as a result i became surprised with regard to what kind of an elder who undermines behavior for this matter.
The fact is i was smoking at the back o the house, hence i saw a certain illusion of a certain concubine that i saw on television show that is called Uyajola 9 / 9 and for this reason this show is for cheaters like her, because she was with another girl's man for this matter.
The fact is her feeling was all over me with an aim to manipulate me into masturbating her, hence after that i heard a voice of my younger brother Lefa and for this reason he claimed in a sympathetic way, yet testing way that after smoking i am going to masturbate him and as a result claiming that it has been a long time for this matter.
The fact is i was smoking in the morning at the back of the house, hence there was a van, which is a van from my younger brother Lefa's work and for this reason it threw me with a feeling in my chest to iron my clothes after smoking as it is Sunday and as a result i became surprised, because it is not it's place for it to tip me for this matter.
The fact is this is not the first time this is happening, hence yesterday there were feelings which threw me with their feelings of pain in my back like they were beating me and for this reason these feelings belonged to the woods that we were moving from the front to next to the kitchen and as a result the other feeling belonged to the plastic cover of a Danone for this matter.
The fact is i was smoking at the back of the house on Sunday after church, hence i felt a certain feeling on top of my mouth and nose pretending to be me and for this reason by pretending like it is it that was blowing the smoke of cigarette for this matter.
The fact is i was smoking on top of my bed in the morning, hence i heard a voice like i am hearing voices as i am mentally disabled and for this reason this voice belonged to Beyonce Knowles-Carter for this matter.
The fact is she claimed in a warning way that they are inquisitive, hence i became surprised with regard to what and for this reason kept myself at bay until i was done smoking to expose her for this matter.
The fact is i was smoking in the afternoon, hence i was on top of my bed and for this reason i felt my younger brother Lefa's feeling on my right chick, neck, arm, hand and chest for this matter.
The fact is his feeling made me to feel like i am vibrating, hence this happened when i was smoking and for this reason after that i felt like it was hard to move my right hand for this matter.
The fact is a certain feeling of a t-shirt belonging to Jabulani who is my neighbor, hence his t-shirt threw me with it's feeling claiming that i will give up to smoke like it is it, which told me to do so and for this reason i felt my younger brother Lefa's feeling emotionally making me to feel like i am smoking for stress by way of making me feel like it is painful to smoke for this matter.
The fact is what hurts me the most is that there was this feeling, hence making me feel like i am finding it hard to breath by pretending like it is me when i was smoking and for this reason i m composing abut it to find my freedom through poetry, because it hurts for this matter.
Writing a poem is not about bringing some words together to create some charming sentences. It's so much deeper than that. Writing poetry is a bridge that allows people to express their feelings and make others live every single word they read. Poetry is to educate people, to lead them away from hate to love, from violence to mercy and pity. Writing poetry is to help this community better understand life and live it more passionately. PoemHunter.com contains an enormous number of famous poems from all over the world, by both classical and modern poets. You can read as many as you want, and also submit your own poems to share your writings with all our poets, members, and visitors.