As the clay warms so does the heart.
The tobacco burns, the smoke curls.
The aroma twists and twirls
As it flutters gently upon the air.
Thoughts invoked/involved press
Ever and anon consuming.
The soul stirred awakened,
The Autumn is bleak yet fair.
Trees seem to go on forever in all directions.
Frosted leaves are crunching as a snow begins to fall.
As smoke wisps upon the breeze,
There is a stir among the trees:
A deer is seen bolting at the
Step of the traveler.
The aroma swirls about
With the burning of tobac and
As the clay warms so does the heart.
Bad Pipe Poetry
- Preacher1611
- Member in Good Standing
- Posts: 629
- Joined: Tue May 08, 2018 11:32 am
- Location: Van Schaick Island, NY
I know a pipe that’s tough but sweet
The bowl’s so fine it can’t be beat
It’s got everything you desire
It will help you keep that tobacco on fire
You want brylon
You want brylon
Gonna smoke that pipe when the sun goes down
Ain’t no finer pipe in your town
This is the pipe your doctor ordered
The stem’s so sweet, it’ll make your mouth water.
You want brylon
You want brylon
Brylon on the beach, there’s nothing better
Except in winter when you’re wearing your sweater
Some day soon you’ll make yourself fine
And you’ll have brylon all of the time
You want brylon
You want brylon
The bowl’s so fine it can’t be beat
It’s got everything you desire
It will help you keep that tobacco on fire
You want brylon
You want brylon
Gonna smoke that pipe when the sun goes down
Ain’t no finer pipe in your town
This is the pipe your doctor ordered
The stem’s so sweet, it’ll make your mouth water.
You want brylon
You want brylon
Brylon on the beach, there’s nothing better
Except in winter when you’re wearing your sweater
Some day soon you’ll make yourself fine
And you’ll have brylon all of the time
You want brylon
You want brylon
A rubber alligator.
Five dollars in nickels.
Sunshine in a can.
Underwear found in the woods.
There are some things you can't put a price on because no one wants them.
Muriel Hauptmann knows many of life's most important secrets.
She doesn't smoke a pipe but she's knows the value of a good machine-made cigar.
Life is good.
------ I know some of you will be scratching your head at this free verse. Others will be shaking their head in agreement. It's been awhile since Muriel Hauptmann has made an appearance on PSF. It's about darned time, too!
Five dollars in nickels.
Sunshine in a can.
Underwear found in the woods.
There are some things you can't put a price on because no one wants them.
Muriel Hauptmann knows many of life's most important secrets.
She doesn't smoke a pipe but she's knows the value of a good machine-made cigar.
Life is good.
------ I know some of you will be scratching your head at this free verse. Others will be shaking their head in agreement. It's been awhile since Muriel Hauptmann has made an appearance on PSF. It's about darned time, too!
-
- Junior Member
- Posts: 55
- Joined: Fri May 10, 2019 5:01 pm
In days of old, Gent's magazines were usually filled with ribald limericks racy poetry, suggestive rhymes, photos, and dirty cartoons. I had plenty of these magazines stashed under my mattress when I was a kid. They made for great reading. PC and the mere possibility of offending a reader was never considered. Wish those days were back. We badly need them.
I was hoping, even expecting as much when I clicked on this topic. Good filth makes me laugh .....and it's been a long time since I did a spit take with my morning coffee. I enjoyed reading through some of the postings, but then things took an unexpected turn when I started reading through Whalehead King's jottings. And.... I paused. I read through it twice, and paused some more.
Whalehead....Thanks...for inviting me to stop, and contemplate the simple things that I do everyday, those things that turn out to be not so simple after all. I have more years behind me than in front of me...and I need to pause more often.
******************************************************************************************************************************************
I smoke my pipes, usually as a solo act. Sometimes a friend will join me, but my private reverie, the spell, can be easily broken by too much inane talking. Sometimes less is more.
Years ago I saw a photo of an old fireplace, and carved into the mantlepiece, by the maker or by the owner, were these words: ...."Rest here from Life's vexations, and catch the thread of vanishing dreams"........ I never forgot those words.
I have no fireplace. My pipe is my "fireplace". And when I finish smoking, and scrape the burnt tobacco dottle from out of the bowl I sometimes recall the Ash Wednesday admonition that has been uttered for centuries.....Memento homo, quia pulvis es, et in pulverum reverteris......"Remember man, thou art dust, and unto dust thou shalt return".
Whalehead....good job. My day started well.....with a pause.
I was hoping, even expecting as much when I clicked on this topic. Good filth makes me laugh .....and it's been a long time since I did a spit take with my morning coffee. I enjoyed reading through some of the postings, but then things took an unexpected turn when I started reading through Whalehead King's jottings. And.... I paused. I read through it twice, and paused some more.
Whalehead....Thanks...for inviting me to stop, and contemplate the simple things that I do everyday, those things that turn out to be not so simple after all. I have more years behind me than in front of me...and I need to pause more often.
******************************************************************************************************************************************
I smoke my pipes, usually as a solo act. Sometimes a friend will join me, but my private reverie, the spell, can be easily broken by too much inane talking. Sometimes less is more.
Years ago I saw a photo of an old fireplace, and carved into the mantlepiece, by the maker or by the owner, were these words: ...."Rest here from Life's vexations, and catch the thread of vanishing dreams"........ I never forgot those words.
I have no fireplace. My pipe is my "fireplace". And when I finish smoking, and scrape the burnt tobacco dottle from out of the bowl I sometimes recall the Ash Wednesday admonition that has been uttered for centuries.....Memento homo, quia pulvis es, et in pulverum reverteris......"Remember man, thou art dust, and unto dust thou shalt return".
Whalehead....good job. My day started well.....with a pause.
-
- Junior Member
- Posts: 55
- Joined: Fri May 10, 2019 5:01 pm
I wrote too quickly. I dashed off the above comments before I realized there were some seven more pages of various pipe poems to read through....some good, some bad, some lousy, some awful.....e.g:
...."like Latakia in a pizzeria"......
P.U.!
Bravo gents. Good stuff, here. Funny too.
...."like Latakia in a pizzeria"......
P.U.!
Bravo gents. Good stuff, here. Funny too.
- Crusty Cob
- Active Member
- Posts: 117
- Joined: Fri Jun 21, 2019 5:37 pm
An ode to the flake.
I shall partake of the chocolate flake to make a mellow mood.
I go outside because the bride harasses me so rude.
I puff the pipe into the night and enjoy the evening air.
When the pipe is done and there's no more sun I go to bed without a care.
CC
I shall partake of the chocolate flake to make a mellow mood.
I go outside because the bride harasses me so rude.
I puff the pipe into the night and enjoy the evening air.
When the pipe is done and there's no more sun I go to bed without a care.
CC
- Ruffinogold
- The Mayor
- Posts: 9055
- Joined: Sun Apr 22, 2018 4:48 pm
- Location: Mineral Bluff , Georgia
Some folks tobacco make sicks
They're some strange bastids ya think
Bet they like to wear shirts of pink
I dig tobacco and so do the chicks
They're some strange bastids ya think
Bet they like to wear shirts of pink
I dig tobacco and so do the chicks
" I believe adventure is nothing but a romantic name for trouble " L.L.
Ahem.....
I brought a tin of latakia to my local pizzeria.
Say it as fast as you can. It’s fun:
I brought a tin of latakia to my local pizzeria.
I asked the guy behind the counter if they could add this to my pepperoni pie.
The guy looked at me, then he scratched his head. Then, he asked me, “Why?”
“A pinch of latakia will make a burley or an English sing,” I said.
“The smell of latakia in our pizza ovens will wake the dead,” he said.
“Whatsamatter with you?” I asked, “Are you a pizza philistine?”
“No,” he said, “I have no faith in latakia, I prefer Mixture Seventy-Neen.”
....It's kinda of a sorta religious poem if you care to think about it too much.
I brought a tin of latakia to my local pizzeria.
Say it as fast as you can. It’s fun:
I brought a tin of latakia to my local pizzeria.
I asked the guy behind the counter if they could add this to my pepperoni pie.
The guy looked at me, then he scratched his head. Then, he asked me, “Why?”
“A pinch of latakia will make a burley or an English sing,” I said.
“The smell of latakia in our pizza ovens will wake the dead,” he said.
“Whatsamatter with you?” I asked, “Are you a pizza philistine?”
“No,” he said, “I have no faith in latakia, I prefer Mixture Seventy-Neen.”
....It's kinda of a sorta religious poem if you care to think about it too much.
- Ruffinogold
- The Mayor
- Posts: 9055
- Joined: Sun Apr 22, 2018 4:48 pm
- Location: Mineral Bluff , Georgia
What !? That wasn't bad enough !? I can do worse possiblyWhalehead King wrote: ↑Thu Aug 08, 2019 3:43 pm Ahem.....
I brought a tin of latakia to my local pizzeria.
Say it as fast as you can. It’s fun:
I brought a tin of latakia to my local pizzeria.
I asked the guy behind the counter if they could add this to my pepperoni pie.
The guy looked at me, then he scratched his head. Then, he asked me, “Why?”
“A pinch of latakia will make a burley or an English sing,” I said.
“The smell of latakia in our pizza ovens will wake the dead,” he said.
“Whatsamatter with you?” I asked, “Are you a pizza philistine?”
“No,” he said, “I have no faith in latakia, I prefer Mixture Seventy-Neen.”
....It's kinda of a sorta religious poem if you care to think about it too much.
" I believe adventure is nothing but a romantic name for trouble " L.L.