cigarette stubs twisted, broken
all purpose burned away
lying in a box of sand
eight and twenty
scalded and worn
kissed a dozen times
before being cast aside
every kiss drawing more away
the breath of life
one lies dead and half-buried
A note on the poem: Sitting out by the community waters in a chaise lounge, I noticed beside me a small sand-box within which many old cigarettes lay mangled, broken, and abused. I began versing my observations of them, these victims of addiction, then came across the idea of their being kissed to death partway through the verse and concluded with that thought. There is more in this: I realised that as I am now 28 years old, perhaps I had written about myself and not that number of spent cigarettes, perhaps my heart through kisses is now spent, half-buried, both dead and alive…or perhaps this is not truly me, but is someone reading this. God, teach our hearts to love.
I like it. But it’s rather unromantic to leave a “what the heck” or give “freakin’ dangits” after a post like that. You make me laugh.Still thinking about your question.STOP.Will respond soon.STOP.
i have only met you once so i dont know you that well, but i thought i would let you know i enjoy reading your stuff.
May God also teach our hearts what love really is so that we glorify Him in the act of loving.
i dig that.
I see I’ve been found out.
Would you recommend the Imogen Heap album? If so or if not, any other albums you might suggest? I have itunes money still from my birthday… and cannot seem to find or decide on anything to purchase.Also, I like the poem.