Wednesday, 18 August 2010

Hol(e)y Smoke  

That scratch of the match, 
the sound of the flame, 
that crackle when inhaled, 
all like a beginning to a concerto, 

The Holey Smoke, 
the divine connect to the lips, 
the fumes from the bloke, 
as graceful as ever ; 

Everywhere it read, 
smoking kills , tobacco causes cancer, 
yet , warnings are being killed, 
and smoke is acting like a dancer, 

to know why a man smokes, 
you have to know the feelings unknown, 
ask of it to the bloke who once swore, 
that , " cigarettes and I will gel no more " ;

The air of smoke, 
is now in tandem with the feelings of that bloke, 
opportunities all around, 
but vanish in a puff of smoke, 

Swearing , too , had a price to pay, 
it kept cheating again and again, 
in an attempt to be truthful to one, 
that bloke chose the stick which costs five times one ; 

Now , smoke rings still circle around ,
how he wished it were gone , 
like cuffs it is still bound, 
when will that bloke come around ?

with violence in the movement of fumes ,
the concerto has finally begun ,
serenely floating up in the air ,
like a paradox unleashed and bare .

What next?

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