Ashes Poem by Nicholas Peter
Ashes
I smoked the last cigarette,
in the red Marlboro pack,
of in-house body decay,
and black lung birth canal.
The whirling smoke,
reminded me,
of you,
a maelstrom of hazy sex,
and tsunami-flow hatred.
You were an astronaut,
making the lunar module mission,
to the translucent center,
of my rib-cage moon.
But all things burnout,
even your spaceship,
and my cigarette,
return to hasty ash.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Delivering Poems Around The World
Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...
4/25/2024 6:37:16 AM # 1.0.0.1119
I invite you to read my poem, Ashes Of Old Lovers, which I find mirrors some of the emotions you put forth. I enjoyed the read. PEACE