Lucky Strike

I've been wanting to write this for days. Finally, I'm able to get it down.

I've never been a smoker,

but I've always smoked Marlboro before.

First, in high school, to look tough for the other girls,

then, in college, 

to pull cancer into my lungs,

to burn lips, burn skin,

to have something that I could control.

 

The collective count of expended cancer-sticks

that have graced my lips would not, I believe,

surmount a half-hundred. 

However, tonight, far below towering moonlight,

I smoke Lucky Strikes.

Unfiltered.

Because of you.

Smoking is no longer about hurting myself.

Smoking is about picturing your lips,

like mine, pulling in this warmth,

about watching smoke pool above me,

shift in the breeze,

and form your shape.

Smoking is about you.

 

If I was ever going to give in to addiction,

it would be now, with this pack,

these Lucky Strikes,

these memories of you.

 

Need a light?

 

 

 

 

Author's Note

Not my best work, but these are thoughts that I needed to capture. Suggestions are certainly welcome.

Reviews

[Bennett Logan]

I smoked a pack of Lucky Strikes once. Well not all at once, per se. I was at this jazz club and it was all they had left in the vending machine. Finishing the pack was a task within itself. That being said, I can relate.

I like the nostalgic effect the poem has. The idea of doing something in order to better remember a moment from the past makes sense to me, so I was hooked right from the beginning. Great stuff!

Normally I have a handfull of suggestions, but you definately have a very finished poem here. I'll definately be reading more. Have a good one and keep up the good work.

[Laura E. Aranda]

I can feel what you are trying to express. It was like these words bubbled up inside and just had to take form on paper regardless of prose, rhyme or the flow. I understand. I can't wait to read more of your work. Cheers, lea

[The Mad Prophet]

Well written poem, although I am not much for smoking. I always thought of it being sick, and it disgusted me even seeing it for some reason. I never cared what others thought of me, nor tried to impress people. Individuality is my strong point, to a point of becoming alien to the world.

Very well expressed, good job.

[Salvatore Buttaci]

Yes, we once-upon-a-time smokers know exactly what you mean! I like your poem because the act of smoking is linked to the memory of someone loved and perhaps lost: sort of like two habits the poet had to break. A very good poem.

Sal

[DiamondNRough AKA Patty..]

Awsome... the ending made it!!!

[Michael Handel]

This is really really good......Suggestion: Don;t change a thing. I smiled while reading this....which only happens when I'm happily impressed and is done with the most affectionate appreciation I can assure.
I liked the ending a lot too...I'm a big fan of that style of this type of ending...it kind of disarms the reader at first leaving them to reconnect with their thoughts like "Oh!...wow!". Great write!