I dont really like this one, but it lives as it was written. Anyone can tell me how to make this better?
Fingers of smoke reaching ever upward
Trying to mingle with the atmosphere, who rejects it
Horrified at the blackness, the scent of forced decay
I use the playful wind to roll my burning end
So I have a better view of the block
Quickly devouring some of the air as it skips past
Returning nothing save more of the night like mist
That I exist to provide
Ah...a sudden commotion?
Will this scene provide a final host for me?
Thundering boots interrupt my thoughts
And two blue suited men wrestle a brown figure
To the sickly pavement
A grimacing face thuds down scarcely two feet away
And my embers flare as I recognize the lips I blackened
Scarcely half an hour ago.
All the annoyance in me is converted to pity
And I can do nothing but tease him with wisps
To burn his already watering eyes
Before he is hauled from stern ground to sullen iron doors
Families screaming a siren song that cannot lure him home
Shadow, suddenly, as of omen-filled clouds
The boot grinds down with finality
My embers cough, sizzle
Finally, back to my ashes I return.
Poetry by Dominic
Read 564 times
Written on 2006-11-01 at 20:10
Tags Cigarette  Observation 
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text
Cigarette's View
I fume, frustrated, on the indifferent pavementFingers of smoke reaching ever upward
Trying to mingle with the atmosphere, who rejects it
Horrified at the blackness, the scent of forced decay
I use the playful wind to roll my burning end
So I have a better view of the block
Quickly devouring some of the air as it skips past
Returning nothing save more of the night like mist
That I exist to provide
Ah...a sudden commotion?
Will this scene provide a final host for me?
Thundering boots interrupt my thoughts
And two blue suited men wrestle a brown figure
To the sickly pavement
A grimacing face thuds down scarcely two feet away
And my embers flare as I recognize the lips I blackened
Scarcely half an hour ago.
All the annoyance in me is converted to pity
And I can do nothing but tease him with wisps
To burn his already watering eyes
Before he is hauled from stern ground to sullen iron doors
Families screaming a siren song that cannot lure him home
Shadow, suddenly, as of omen-filled clouds
The boot grinds down with finality
My embers cough, sizzle
Finally, back to my ashes I return.
Poetry by Dominic
Read 564 times
Written on 2006-11-01 at 20:10
Tags Cigarette  Observation 
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text
Texts |
by Dominic Latest textsJourneys Through EdenDrowning Discovering Affection Fury Rose |
Increase font
Decrease