Image from pinterest.com
death dances
its lulling ritual
in the soft gray undulance
rising from my fingers
I nonetheless savor
warm Mesmer tastes of him
drawn from his embering leaves
around and across
my decadent tongue
pulled down
down and into
the centers of me
where I trap sticky filaments
gluing his powers
all his terrible powers
releasing the rest of him
thinned and diminished
encircling my taciturn face
while I wait
in my centers
wondering
when fortune or fate
will subsume
his ugly dark residue
(originally posted April 2013)
Poesy plus Polemics 
I hear ya!
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I think there must be many smokers among writers.
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You too..! Every time I seem a doctor, he says, you’re OK…good heart, good lung…
everyone else says I stink…
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And I sincerely hope you remain OK.
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Well, as one who gave it up…..I won’t wag my finger today.
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Thanks. I get plenty of wagging from kids and grandkids.
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I’ll bet you do–bless their hearts,and yours!!
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This is an incredibly lucid piece of writing, as I sit here no longer enjoying my cigarette as I read your wonderful writing. I keep wondering why I haven’t got cancer….yet…but the dance of death you describe isn’t strong enough to lure me away from the ritual. Nicely done!
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I appreciate your thoughtful comments very much.
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I used to smoke. So did my brother. I quit. My brother died of lung cancer 2 years ago at 57. Not a good way to go. It is seductive though, I admit, and every once in awhile I wish for one with my drug of choice now, coffee.
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I have no excuses. It is what it is.
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We all do what we can and we are what we are.
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Reblogged this on Poesy plus Polemics.
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I have never smoked, but can appreciate the struggle of someone trying to quit, or, in your case, wondering about the effects and when they will have their say. This is quite a wonderful poem, full of depth. Congratulations again on another fine piece.
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thank you, Maggie – from this miserable slave to the habit
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Powerful!
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thank you so much
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coffee and nicotine may be the death of me. Cheers on how will you captured the smokers dilemma so completely. “Wondering when fortune or fate will subsume” Exactly!!! Now i must go smoke and think about this poem 😉
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ha ha – me, too
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Caffiene and nicotine…could have worse vices 🙂
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ha ha – that’s for sure
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vivid and relative. great stuff.
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much appreciated
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This is brilliant imagery.
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I appreciate that very much
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Having just returned from the garden where, of late my habit has been confined you will understand I rather liked this, Paul
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ah, yes – we fellow addicts invariably lead similar lives – as I can’t easily get outdoors, I’m restricted to smoking in one designated room behind closed door
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It is also the reason I rarely go to a pub these days. I refuse to stand outside with the huddle!
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Nicotine is a great synapse enhance, but while its helping you write it is killing you at the same time — Stephen King said something like this in On Writing.
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enhancer*
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yes, you are correct
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However, twisted old me really loves the poem you wrote. ❤
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many thanks, Ibrahim
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My vice is chocolate. Walked away from sugar yet can’t chocolate. Loved this, Mike. Your imagery is fantastic! 👏💖
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thanks kindly, amyrose
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12 years quit this past June 5th. My sister was a 2 pack-a-day until she had this thing done with a needle/syringe in the ear that totally broke the habit for her – miraculously. Auriculotherapy.
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as my hearing has gone to hell, maybe that would give me a double benefit
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🙂
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Wonderfully done Paul. I used to smoke too. I quit once for 10 years and then stupidly started again. I’ve stopped again. This time for 2 years now and for good! It’s a horrible addiction though. I understand the struggle and I still want one every now and then.
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I’ve also had a few stops along the way – but they didn’t hold
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This is very truth reflected poetically only you can do .congrats Lenzi taking liberty to call you so sir. Be blessed
readably latest LOVE WE MUST give your valuable opinion.
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thank you
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you are welcome dear always.
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Superb. Loved this, Paul. I’ll have to find my poem ‘I Roll My Own Cigarettes’ for you. I could discuss smoking with you for ages, but I’m now in the need to pop outside for a ciggy! Much love from Baldy.
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it’s a terrible joy
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It definitely shows the leader of the thrill does it not great write
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I suppose it does
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