Tag Archives: Cigarettes

Dazing Phrasing

The feelings are real but are only my feelings
Just as most of my thoughts are just as fleeting
Only do they matter if they become some actions
And then to only mean something to some factions

Trying to sort out what really matters to me
But feelings and thoughts sometimes get the better of me
Most of the time they lead to no actions
End up just being some sort of distractions

To some I know this makes perfect sense
And to others becoming much too intense
And yet to some others really weird
Find that talking to me is something to be feared

So finding out what really matters to me
May be something I’ll never really see
So if you see me walking around in a daze
It’s just me feeling and thinking of a phrase

© 2011 Michael Yost 06/20

Phlegm Gurgles

Phlegm gurgles from the bottom of my lungs
Breathing still takes more of an effort
My new sense of smell picks up old men’s dung
Stale cigs still reeks and makes my chest hurt

Almost awake I try to remember
Phlegm keeps gurgling and my head is swollen
The night seemed short and drink gave me no cheer
Ass is on fire, should I feel my colon?

© 2015 Michael Yost 06/13

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It’s Just One More

Disassociation flutters in your brain
Suddenly you’re outside your main frame
Flow grabbing at one side or another
Gasping for any air soon to smother

Anxiety rips you at the very core
The raven screams out to you nevermore
Your balance is slipping the high wire walk
Looking around everyone of you gawk

Falling to one knee you swallow your heart
Grabbing your chest your breathe fighting to start
Raising your head with a guttural scream
Calm returning the tears begins to stream

One breathe, then two, you ascend a hand hold
Your hands to your face it’s sweating and cold
The worse is over senses returning
Light another cigarette not learning

© 2011 Michael Yost

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http://jinglepoetry.blogspot.com/

What’s YOUR Four am Like?

It’s 4am on a Tuesday
The regular crowd shuffles in
I sit alone at my computer
Wishing I had some Tonic and Gin

Been sober now for so long
The urge just goes away
Where did my dam cigarettes go
One habit that had to stay

Turned on Winamp to play a melody
There’s a song I don’t know how it goes
Bout some piano player thought a poet
And i thought I was the poet but
I guess I’ll just eat some dam crow.

© 2011 Michael Yost

Still

Blue Smoke

 

It was the cast of the gray smoke
Looming large over my heart
Rasping for one more breath
Made me curse the dark
Beating slower
And slower
Slower
Still

©2011 Michael Yost

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