ode to piping.... Part I

Discussion in 'The Smoking Lounge' started by MrJarvis, Aug 3, 2012.

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  1. MrJarvis

    MrJarvis Member

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    There is a great contest on another thread for poems about piping.
    I have had so much fun trying different styles I decided to start this thread.

    RULES:

    PLEASE USE THIS THREAD TO POST ANY KIND OF YOUR CREATIVE WRITING ABOUT PIPES, TOBACCO, PIPING, THE FORUM, THE PSF'ERS, ETC.

    PLEASE DO NOT POST OTHER PEOPLES WORK. YOUR ORIGINALS ONLY.

    POSTED HERE COULD BE: POETRY, SONG LYRICS, SHORT STORIES, ETC. ANY KIND OF WRITING.

    LET ER RIP!
     
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  2. MrJarvis

    MrJarvis Member

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    ill kick this off
    and write a verse

    this place is safe
    feel free to curse.

    so write about
    your favorite smoke

    plot a tale
    or craft a joke

    just bring your wit
    your heart, your soul

    create, create
    the only goal.

    no judgements here
    no good, no bad

    just tell us how
    you deal with TAD

    cant wait to read
    your inner thoughts

    Its time we had
    one of these spots.
     
  3. MrJarvis

    MrJarvis Member

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    Aged Burley Flake
    nutty,
    rich,
    delicious.
    cant keep this ****ing thing lit.
     
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  4. CMAsailor

    CMAsailor Active Member

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    though we sit
    with pipe in hand
    and think of wit
    and how we're grand
    the noisiest rivers
    are never deep
    so I sit, while y'alls pens quivers
    and pretend to sleep.

    :xd:
    not bad for a sailor eh? LOL
     
  5. Klauswermann

    Klauswermann Member

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    From the darkness, came the fire.
    To the briar, went the flame.
    And in smoke, turned to ember.
     
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  6. Baccy Bert

    Baccy Bert Member

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    Though a bowl will end,
    Its memory glows warmly,
    After the flame dies

    one of many haikus I do when bored
     
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  7. Baccy Bert

    Baccy Bert Member

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    Something a little longer..

    Two crept, in the still of night
    in search of fuel for fire,
    no sound, save the counsel that was light
    A beacon in the mire.

    Much wood found, and haul-ed back
    To camp, to warmth and home,
    Pipes a light and ales a-froth
    and sweet thirst quenching foam.

    With tools honed and biting keen
    craft and cookery had them working,
    Away from other trials and tests
    Reality, they were shirking.

    Hearty meal a-made, on leafy settles
    They sat with their pipes smoking,
    The flaming jester cracked and popped
    Whilst the fellows made merry joking.

    What's this? A stir? A guest?
    To arms! To cover to seek it,
    A bird, or man? Too dark to tell
    Not all the wood is well lit.

    With night in youth they sat about
    To long speech of Irish lore,
    The flames danced upon their eyes
    And about the forest floor.

    Tired feet laid on a sorrel rug
    A moment to truly savour,
    A burning flame yielded cool smoke
    With sweet and pleasant flavour.

    How oft these men frequent the wood!
    Their pipes forever to smolder,
    Though they'll age, as all lads should
    Such spirits grow none the older.
     
  8. Artful Dodger

    Artful Dodger Member

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    Much to my wife's dismay,
    I bought a new pipe today.
    A little advice:
    Don't mention the price
    when asked "how much did you pay?"
     
  9. Spillproof

    Spillproof Mostly Harmless Moderator

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    quote="Baccy Bert, post: 345899, member: 2753"]Something a little longer..

    What's this? A stir? A guest?
    To arms! To cover to seek it,
    A bird, or man? Too dark to tell
    Not all the wood is well lit.[/quote]


    By jove, there is a poet among us paupers.
     
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