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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: Bathroom Cigarettedots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: ellisa
    Elite Ratio:    5.51 - 400/415/125
    Words: 180
    Class/Type: Poetry/Misc
    Total Views: 1585
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 1264



    Description:
       Ode to my flatmates boyfriend


    Make the font bigger!! Double Spacing Back to recent posts.

    dotsBathroom Cigarettedots
    -------------------------------------------






    A tip-ex sink
    A sweat-stained string hanging,
    Loose from the shaving lamp.
    His night-time
    Addiction confine,
    Flirting with a clapped-out,
    Twenty-something fire system.

    So his fingers are nicotine,
    Wrapped in yellowing paper,
    The stick lit and swallowed
    By fire-coaxing lips.
    He squats to show respect,
    At a midnight service,
    The cremation of a late cigarette.
    This brings the fear of the reaper
    One deep breath closer.

    He rubs concern from his chin;
    Parting consideration
    From a perfect state of happiness.
    Stubbed into a can hed kissed all night,
    He sweeps the remnants of an ash whisper
    Below the moulding shower-mat.

    So his fingers are nicotine
    As he creeps back to her bed
    Built strictly for one,
    In a flat misshapen for a man who smokes
    In a night too warm to give sleep up easily.
    The morning works at shifting
    The blue strands from his guilty path.
    A scent-track from the scene of the crime,
    Straight to its yellow-toothed perpetrator.









    Submitted on 2005-05-14 15:32:36     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      very interesting...i mean so far everything of yours i've read good, but more than that...it's like you have this amazing way with words.
    this vivid descriptive trip that you take us on, whoooo... i just get wrapped up in it.

    you know what's funny ?
    as type this i'm smoking...
    ha.


    CC

    | Posted on 2005-07-28 00:00:00 | by C. Starr | [ Reply to This ]
      The anti-smoking lobby could use you. This poem could put anyone off smoking. I think these lines are powerful.

    He sweeps the remnants of an ash whisper
    Below the moulding shower-mat.

    The grubbiness of the flat suggests someone living alone and that this is his flat. If so I am not sure if I fully understand the

    So his fingers are nicotine
    As he creeps back to her bed
    Built strictly for one,
    In a flat misshapen for a man who smokes

    This seems to imply his unsavoury relationship with a girl/woman and it is her flat. Albeit,

    In a flat misshapen for a man who smokes

    is a wonderful line.
    Comrade Nessie
    | Posted on 2005-05-18 00:00:00 | by comradenessie | [ Reply to This ]
      I love poems that tell a story (he typed looking at the yellow stains on his fingers). I've so been that guy. There's something about the ritual of the last fag. But if I'd bee him, I'd have slid the window up just far enough to get hand and elbow out and met the fag on the window ledge. Anyway, that's just me.

    I liked the use of the metaphors, it slowed down the read and helped me to concentrate. Anyway, at work now , think I'll go for a ciggie.
    | Posted on 2005-05-15 00:00:00 | by Sanny | [ Reply to This ]
      I really didn't enjoy reading your poem which is a tribute to how well it worked. It made me nauseous with the smell of stale tobacco and really underlined the horrors of the addiction. Maybe a smoker would react differently to your imagery. I have never smoked and in a sense this deprives me of the right to criticize those that do. Your choice of this subject matter is excellent, because the primary sense being used in your poem is that of smell and smell poetry always works because it is so evocative. My very first real girlfriend way back in the pre-cambrian era smoked and the smokey smell of female skin certainly presses a few buttons for me. I also had an old uncle who lived alone with his yellow brown violin and brown furniture and pipe stained wallpaper. He was tanned with nicotine and lived alone with his pipe one of his few joys in life. There, I told you, your poem works for me!
    | Posted on 2005-05-15 00:00:00 | by hanuman | [ Reply to This ]
      Innovative indeed. Good metaphors. I liked "the cremation of a late cigarette."
    I liked also your last two lines,which made me perk up a smile since they are so vivid.

    Yet,I have my doubts that the goverrnment is leveling with smokers. I think what's contributing to lung cancer is the fact of acid air caused by carbon fuels and the propane gas used to light the cigarettes with. This plus the fact that catylytical converters on vehicles burp out some dangerously carcinogenic gases which is sucked up by the vehicl behind by its motor fan and driven into the interior of the vehicle.
    If you will notice the government suit against the tobacco companies was a suit about the addictive nature of nicotine which was covered up by the manufacturers. It was not a suit about deaths caused by cigarettes since this was at the time no concrete beyond a shadow of a doubt that cigarettes alone caused lung cancer. This is why I say the public has been hoodwinked by not mentioning the other possible causes which smokers are subjected to. Its like saying that the twin towers were badly constructed rather than the impact of the planes.
    | Posted on 2005-05-14 00:00:00 | by realpoet | [ Reply to This ]
      *laughs*
    The second I read the title and the description I remembered your little rant about your flatmates boyfriend who smokes in your bathroom.
    This is seriously clever and witty and I thoroughly enjoyed it. I've been away too long, I'd almost forgotten how much I love your poetry, you're honestly about the best poet I've met on here and I honestly don't give compliments like that easily.
    Some of the ideas in here are the reason I write poetry, to find things like that. It's always a bit bitter-sweet seeing someone else do it, because while it's something I adore to find in poetry, I find myself wishing I'd thought of it first!
    I think the best section of this poem to show that would be this one:
    He squats to show respect,
    At a midnight service,
    The cremation of a late cigarette.

    Though I think the lines that follow it:
    This brings the fear of the reaper
    One deep breath closer.

    Maybe verges on being a little preachy. It's sad because I know what you're getting at with it. Maybe it just comes from having so much non-smoker waffle rammed down my throat.
    The only other thing I'd say is that your poems are often very obtuse and confusing, this one, I have to say, isn't, but, and I do have a point here, I think there's a good example of what doesn't help me make sense of some of your work here:
    Punctuation.
    For the most part, you punctuate fantastically, don't get me wrong. It's just that sometimes it takes me three or four readings to work out what you mean in a line.
    Let me give an example:
    In a flat misshapen for a man who smokes
    Because of the way I read that, with no pauses where there isn't punctuation, it doesn't make much sense to me on first reading. I think maybe what would help to clarify the meaning here would to have it as something like this:
    In a flat- misshapen for a man who smokes
    That clears it up a little. I think mainly you're just a victim of your own success. By that I mean that a lot of your work is wonderful because of the interesting turns-of-phrase, but because they're so unusual none of us know how we should read them, how they should flow, so we find ourselves pausing in odd places and running on in the strangest of places :)
    Maybe a little extra punctuation here and there will help.
    Hell, maybe it's just me.
    Anyway, really nice work here, again, a really wonderful piece. I'm glad to know poets like you. You always seem to have something to teach me :)
    | Posted on 2005-07-26 00:00:00 | by shatteredroses | [ Reply to This ]


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    Be kind, take a few minutes to review the hard work of others <3
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