The moon grows full, as the night grows long and my cigarette grows short
Another 11 minutes shaved off my life
Like a boy scout whittling a stick to a fine point
With no point other than the beauty of the motion
I take another sip from my woody-dark-chocolate-mocha cig
I remember I used to hate the acrid sour stench that now fills my lungs
But my love of all things bitter keeps growing
“The devils lettuce” a friend calls it
In opposition to the sweet-green-sugary-stickey
I prefer the bitterness of tobacco smoke
The beauty of the motion between my thumbs and forefingers
Rolling another 11 minutes of my life away
The bitterness of death grows closer for everyone but me
I hate to think of life as bitter and of death as sweet
To hope its sugary arms would capture me like a fly in honey
Then again, my love of all things bitter keeps growing
Comments
thank you!
haha very true, the temptations are definitely omnipresent. and that's good input, ill try not to post too much that is dark. unfortunately that describes a good deal of my work;
there's just something about getting it out and onto a page that helps take the power away
WELCOME NEW POET U HAVE to know Loved oldest poet yet
cigarette grows short.......rather queer ....nothing grows short ... if it*is already short it only shrinks
ask any one the difference in meaning
poet and poeyet none say it
Another 11 minutes shaved off my life ....stop shaving for 11 days /////u will become alright ///back to form
anyway great poem
good input, and thanks you!
it is rather contradictory, ill have to mull that over. And yes, 11 days or less if you ask me. its been a bit over a week and I think this time it just might stick. That's the thing about life, when you take in things to try to make it sweeter, it feels worse, but when you accept the bitterness it all becomes more sweet.
Shakespeare would have said if alive today
AS YOU LIKE IT
I say
have a good day today
tomorrow will come
we may be
may
its early night here
now ebbing away