Thread: Up In Smokes

I was smoking,
And the smoke won't die.
The blue flicker in the orange flame.
And I'm trying to kill this broken lie.

Nights strung together, on a sliken thread.
Would mean nothing in this dismal prospect.
There's a hole in your logic somewhere.
There's a dent in your special effects.

And the flame won't die,
After the smoke.
The smoke- up in curls, down in ahses.
I choke- Just a bit more of the nicotine.

And grey hair; And grey eyes.
My years are lost; the flame has died.
But I'm still tapping away the ashes.
From the mouth of a dead cigarette, long exorcised.

Later..years forgone.
You'll see a figure, if you walk this way.
Sitting in the corner.
Tapping her empty hands away.
Like a beat to a tune unheard.
And you may chance to see, a hollow smile,
Of a vagabond.
Death didn't claim, what life threw hurtling down.
Heaven's torn asunder.
I just sit and laugh.

First, welcome to Writing Forum and the Poetry platform! A Fine poem but the second stanza was glaringly out of place. I would consider re-writing it to fit in with tone of the rest of the poem or eliminate it altogether.

The smoke- up in curls, down in ashes.
Death didn't claim, what life threw hurling down.

There are many lines I enjoy but I'll site one in particular

"Nights strung together, on a sliken thread."

I think you could eliminate the last line. Would love you to explain as it lost me. But nevertheless, I don't think it's needed. Kind of throws off the poem.

Overall, you did a splendid job.

Hope to read more of you work! Laurie