cigarette

Sometimes a cigar is just a smoke and a coincidence is just a coincidence.

5.57am and I__ finishing the last poem to the taste of the last cigarette. Smoke in my lungs, poetry on the paper. Inhale, exhale, it doesn__ get much easier.

I said to my friend, "Why do you smoke (cigarettes)?"He replied, "Because I like to put myself on the line for the welfare and safety of others."I astonishingly said, "Sorry, I didn't get your point."He replied, "I want a cigarette-free world. Therefore, I am trying my best to end all the cigarettes from the world.

He__ completely blown through his younger years like his childhood was one big cigarette to smoke carelessly.

He asked me for a light to light his cigarette, and by reason of unaware, it is he that really gave light to me, made me realize how much alike we all are, breathing the same air, beating the same red blood, separated through some fortune and shame in the way of humanity.

I__e seen how cigarettes went from being advertised in every type of media to being something found to be deadly_ they can__ kill me no matter how many of them I smoke but I__e seen humans die from smoking them_ if I were you I would stop smoking them.___hy should I? You smoke __m all the time, you chain-smoke cigarettes,_ Mandy pointed out.__eah, I started doing that back in the Sixties_ for reasons you likely saw on those VHS tapes_ but I__ not a person, I__ Pollution, things like that aren__ dangerous to me but they are to you,_ Alecto told her. __t__ not a good idea.

Life is like a lit cigarette. The past is ashes, the present is burning, and the future is up in smoke. Fast as a breath; inhale exhale.

You are not smoking cigarette, it's cigarette that is smoking you.

She shakily rushed towards the car to find Alecto casually standing beside it, smoking a cigarette and staring fixedly on the radio as it played the song 'Draggin_ the Line' by Tommy James, his expression thoughtful. __hat are you thinking about?_ Mandy questioned.__ouldn__ the world be a very loud place to live if we said everything we thought?_ Alecto asked quietly.

If I can__ be your love, then let me be a simple brooch so I may rest a while against your chest. If I can__ be your love, then let me be a forgotten coin so I may rest a while against your thigh. If I can__ be your love, then let me be an unlit cigarette so I may rest a while in between your lips. If I can__ be your love, then let me at least remain in these words so I may rest a while in your thoughts.

This is an ode to life.The anthem of the world.For as there are billionsof different stars thatmake up the skyso, too, are there billions of different humans thatmake up the Earth.Some shine brighter but all are made ofthe same cosmic dust.O the joy of beingin life with all these people!I speak of differencesbecause they are there.Like the different organsthat make up our bodies.Earth, itself, is one large body.Listen to how it howlswhen one human isin misery.When one kills another, the Earth feels the pang in itschest. When one orgasms, the Earth craves a cigarette.Look carefully,these animals are beauty spots that make the Earth__ face lovelier and more loveable.These oceans are the Earth__ limpid eyes. These trees, its hair.This is an ode to life.The anthem of the world.I will no longer speak of differences, for the similaritiesare larger. Look even closer. There may bedistances between our limbs butthere are no spaces betweenour hearts. We long to be one.We long to be in nature andto run wild with its wildlife.Let us celebrate life and living, for it is sacrilegious to be ungrateful.Let us play and be playful, for it is sacrilegiousto be serious.Let us celebrate imperfectionsand make existenceproud of us, for tomorrow isdeath, and this is an ode to life. The anthem of the world.

I think one can tell a lot about a person from the way he chooses to let the stub of his cigarette burn out...

Fire . . . Does that light by itself?

She blew more smoke toward me, a lazy game of cancer catch.

That is a terrifically intimate thing, you know? Letting a stranger light your cigarette. Leaning forward so he can hold a flame to your lips. Pausing to breathe in before you pull back again.

I tucked the Camel coupon from his cigarette pack into my pocket. A souvenir of the moment where he said maybe. I would hold on to his maybe for as long as it would take, even forever.

When I was young_ _ __efore I was twenty, I mean, I used to think that life was a thing that kept gaining impetus, it would get richer and deeper each year. You kept learning more, getting wiser, having more insight, going further into the truth_ _ she hesitated.Port laughed abruptly. _ __nd now you know it__ not like that. Right? It__ more like smoking a cigarette. The first few puffs it tasted wonderful, and you don__ even think of its ever being used up. Then you begin taking it for granted. Suddenly you realize it__ nearly burned down to the end. And then__ when you__e conscious of the bitter taste.

About Hollywood.I feel like it__ a big ocean, full of bottom feeders, midlevel fish, the occasional shark, and some wonderful savvy whales, the elders, and the ones who guide you on your way. If you__e lucky enough, you get to be a dolphin and have your waves broken by the passage of these elders before you, but at the same time, you get an occasional shark bite in the tail and maybe one of the bottom feeders comes up and takes a little nibble. But I see myself as cresting a series of waves, dipping down, sometimes, lower than I__ like, but mainly kind of happily staying above. (smiles and takes a long drag of her cigarette) And, of course, I try to avoid the fishnets.