lights out blackness nearly
yet creeping neon proclaims the inner city
leaking into our unlit hallway
softly dusting a residual hint of glow
i open the door a crack
to see illusive curling smoke,
then close the door
welcoming the envelope of total dark.
even the glow of a puff
stealthy falls away
silent in the mystic lure
of golden tobacco.
ah, but i know the way
to idle swirling dream,
the light that follows spark
when smoking In the dark.
Thursday, November 10, 2011
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5 comments:
How, how, could you make the activity of smoking sound so beautiful and compelling? Your poem is glorious, but I think you know how I feel about smoking, and you can guess, that I'd wish you would quit. Or, perhaps, this is just a reminiscence?
As a poem, I love it; and I also read it aloud. It reads beautifully. I enjoy the many wonderful lines: light that follows spark, creeping neon... leaking into our unlit hallway, illusive curling smoke, silent in the mystic lure..., idle swirling dream.
This is beautifully written and reads wonderfully aloud, with great lines: light that follows spark, creeping neon... leaking into our unlit hallway, illusive curling smoke, silent in the mystic lure, idle swirling dream. You've made smoking sound satisfying and compelling.
Annie, it's that damn Ronnie Reagan doing those Chesterfield commercials when i was a kid.
i thought he was a real cowboy.
at least i never learned how to inhale.
Made me laugh!
what it was for me
were the words
smoking in the dark,
that was the core phrase that was enough to build a poem around.
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