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
Posted in Poetry
Tagged Addiction, Anger, Child Abuse, Choices, Cigarettes, Consequences, Die, Drugs, Gurgles, Michael Yost, Phlegm, Poetry, Quiting
There’s only one in my memory
That’s part of all my reveries
All the others once tied, drifted by
All the other’s words have lied
In my reveries I slowly sigh
In my memories I slowly die
In my waiting I comply
In my acceptance I occupy
There’s only one in my memory
Who comes to me da il ly
She’s part of all my reveries
Knowing she’ll never come back to me
© 2011 Michael Yost
There’s only one in my memory
That’s part of all my reveries
All the others once tied, drifted by
All the other’s words have lied
In my reveries I slowly sigh
In my memories I slowly die
In my waiting I comply
In my acceptance I occupy
There’s only one in my memory
Who comes to me da il ly
She’s part of all my reveries
Knowing she’ll never come back to me
© 2011 Michael Yost
http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.com/2011/12/poetry-pantry-is-now-open-81.html#comment-form
A non-smoker since Easter.
No voodoo, pills or patches for I.
Four days ago cold turkey.
Going to make it this time or die.
No alternatives given.
The arteries are choking.
I’d rather not die Today.
So I’m no longer smoking!
© 2011 Michael Yost
Michael's Lair 