the year of lyrics: a poetry project

my search for inner-peace, one poem at a time

Day 108 – Smoky Moments

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I can still see the days when smoke would flee from the burning heap
Trash, tossed aside
Let me “kind of” bury this
But not really, because what’s the point?
Just set fire to this
Maybe all these troubles will go away
Floating pieces of ash clash in the sky
Send out the sorrows with what must be disposed of
On tear-soaked soil
Damp with depression and oppression
Is this supposed to be a life lesson?
All I am learning is that this world is too dirty to even live in
We just accept and move on, or ignore and move on
We decide that politicians and dictators are not to be forgiven

I can recall the days when smoke used to charge through my lungs
That gross kind of smoke
Leave the poor excuse of a filter
Exit from the cigarettes and cigars
Leave my lungs with dirty scars
I abhor those tainted yellow teeth
Ugly smiles don’t make me smile
Just wear a pretend one for a while
Nod at your elders with respect
Remember later to not light up, don’t you forget
I want to grow up to be… well, not like you
Why do schools even bother teaching us to be straight edged
When my own family is too criss-crossed and jagged in comparison?

I remember the days when smoke used to fill up my lungs
By the campfire, flames lick at my warm toes
Out between mountain ranges
Near riverbeds
Towering tree trunks, too thick to wrap my arms around
Nah, not the bad kind of smoke,
The smokey, outdoorsy kind
The type that’s good enough to roast marshmallows over
Set them ablaze, toasting the skewer ‘til it was too hot to handle
Stick ‘em between the grahams
Paired with a thick slab of chocolate
Let it melt in your hands
And ooze down your fingers
What viscious, chocolatey lava we have here
Mmm I can taste it now
1996 National Park smoke, please take a bow


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