Hey look at me, I’m just like James Dean,
on my motorcycle with a fag dangling.
Taking a drag, I’m a man, this is keen.
Blowing a cloud, greasy hair shimmering.
Cigarette protruding makes me look mean.
Yeah, I’m cool, yellow teeth glimmering.
Such a fool, falling for a marketing trick.
Go on, light up another cancer stick.
Hey lovely girl, I would kiss your full lips,
but kissing you tastes like licking an ash tray.
The aroma comes from you, buffalo chips,
is like the scent of a burnt animal fillet.
I would rather smell a skunk’s anal drips
then let my mouth taste your nicotine spray.
You’re just disgusting, super cool chick.
as the smoke rises from your cancer stick
But I can’t quit, I have so much stress.
Those bad things only happen to others.
Keep telling yourself, addicted I guess.
Only a matter of time, death shudders.
Simple stress happens from being breathless
Smoking will kill you. I didn’t stutter.
Your excuse doesn’t cut it, derelict.
Between your fingers rest a cancer stick
Listen to my lungs wheezing, can you hear?
Maybe a hole in my throat will help you.
Excuse me as I cough to make myself clear.
Hang on while I spit out this chunk of spew.
I have trouble breathing, black lungs my dear.
But at least I look cool, give me my due.
Yellow stains on my fingers, my match flicks
my tobacco craving for my cancer stick.
RJ Reynolds how can you dare sleep at night?
Phillip Morris don’t you feel some remorse?
The thousands you kill every day isn’t right.
But business as normal has been your course
Crying children losing their loved one’s fight,
The addiction you spread, you gladly enforce
My lungs fill with burning ashes red as brick.
The devil’s weed wrapped as a cancer stick.
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Author notes
This write is an anti smoking one. I smoked for over 30 years but I quit on October 3rd, 2003. It was one of the hardest things I ever had to do. Since then I have had nothing but breathing problems, shortness of breath that effects my everyday life. I fell as many did to watching my movie hero's smoking away on the big screen and thought is was so cool. Cigarettes are addictive and just as addictive as heroin. There's nothing cool about it. Our country has in the past subsidized the tobacco industry but no longer needs to as they are doing well in the Asian world. It's hard to believe that we would allow an industry to exist that kills thousands of people a day. I plead with you to quit smoking before its too late.
This poems stanza's are written in the ottava rima form of abababcc. Syllable counts are mostly 10 per line but a few are 11, I just couldn't drop them without losing impact. Thanks in advance for reading.
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This is a very powerful piece. I have to admit that I've been addicted for 32 of my 51 years. I've tried and quit on more than one occasion. Am now taking meds to help me kick for the final time. Everything you said in your piece makes total sense. I think getting off nicotine is probably as hard as getting off heroin. Your author notes put the icing on the cake of this poem. Thanks for an enlightening read and the warnings we all know and surely should heed.
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Thank you for reading my poem, and good luck on kicking the habit, you'll feel so much better for doing so.
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beautiful as always!
I can only hope to quit!
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Keep trying to quit, you'll feel so much better. Thanks for reading and commenting. As always I appreciate it.
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A most strong and powerful piece this is!
I work with a LOT of patients who have breathing problems due to smoking and that in itself should be reason to either quit or at LEAST cut down
Well stated, my friend
Wishing you light and love,
Sandy -
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Thank you Sandy for reading and commenting. Yep, people need to just give them up.
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This is a vividly imaged and powerfully written piece. I've never been a smoker, as cigarettes and being an asthmatic soprano don't quite a pair make, and a your poem underscores why I'm happy to have avoided them.
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Thank you for reading and commenting. You're a lucky lady to have avoided them.
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Congratulations
On your five years of nicotine freedom
Unfortunately,I`m still under the puff
Try to quit,hit the wall,about three months
Sixty this year, you`d think I was grown up
I know that its not a matter of wisdom
Satan will tell me when I`ve had enough
As if in a rush to be under sod
Perhaps I could ask for help from my God.
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Thanks for reading and commenting Bob. Don't give up trying to guit. It's never too late.
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