weed
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three houses, one hotel, and it seemed every guy
on my street still conversed at the corner. there's
always an element to hide; some grams of H' to
the breast pocket, weed and some ganja. Green;
I want to be your blunt
I want you to roll me up
Place your mouth
Soft lips on my paper
Use your tongue to keep me together
Let me feel you
Chanting of Ram hath become the greatest sham
That morphs the fanatics into instant Bonds
Giving em virtual license to maim and kill
Marijuana is the antidote for virus called hatred
i think that if i take it into too much consideration,
the momental magic seems to be shaved away.
there were twice as many stars as usual-
sometimes i need love
sometimes i need a neatly rolled blunt
where the weed won't spill from the bottom
and the temporary peace of mind takes me from my problems
sometimes i need my mama
filling my lungs
with the smooth smoke
every hit pushing me higher
erasing away
the pain of today
melting away my fears
I want to be high forever.
I like to listen to songs about Jesus getting high
So I can feel better about rolling blunts
On the floor of a taco bell bathroom
Or on my birth certificate
I wake in the morning,
And the first thing I do
Is start to get high
To not think about you.
I take a long puff
To forget about your sorrow.
Take another one in
To forget about tomorrow.
Cherry the green on top
so the tobacco beneath burns enough
and shotgun that shit after it's all milked.
A reverse fire-breathing feeling takes over
as you exhale and maybe cough once or twice.
The smoke and the screen gives the dark room
a milky blue haze
and even though you're not home right now,
you're all right,
because you love your people here.
The kush has calmed your anxiety
There are two of me
The first me – the real me – is a good kid
Does what their parents ask, be nice to everyone,
never push the limits
The second me is a lost soul
A body with missing pieces
Live wild
with love in your heart
Let the wind rush through your hair
as you smoke a little weed
I’ve got couple bong rips
Held with a deep grip in my lungs
Yeah
I got a couple slits
Not just the ones that cover my eyelids
Sitting in the room watching you
And not just any room
Your room
But you’re preoccupied
So, I’ll wait
Looking at you from the corner of my eye
I feel like Mr. Hyde
Cherry-red lips
Stretched hips
Hormones on full throttle
Lusting
Craving
Begging
For attention
she worried about him
as his family drama drew his cigarette closer
as the smoke filled his lungs, time kept getting slower.
as the aroma of nicotine filled the air, she could feel and smell his hurt and despair.
He took you to his spot
you toked off mini pipes
and swapped stories
and looked at the city lights.
From the top of the Butte.
A concert featuring a rapper.
A couch and a loveseat
Watching two friends pass a bong,
and (finally) extending your hand.
She holds the bong for you on her leg,
her other hand on the bowl.
"All you have to do is breathe."
she droops like a melting candle,
eyes glazed,
joint smoked.
(in so much that the scent of the leaves is nothing like Fall,
I wrote a poem to choke my sorrow.
Like a blot of gauze to staunch the blood flow.
Drops of blood drop and drip between my toes,
from wound that punctured lung like jagged bone,
I've been looking for a place to plant my life.
Maybe at a shop, or ship or bar?
But not on a farm.
For weeds at farms are pulled sight.
Smoke a toke and don't choke.Inhale, let that peppery smoke into your lungs.Exhale and let it out; one hit is all it takes toHave you looking at the world from a different point of view.
stepping into the foyer, a gush of wind hitting me
can you smell it on me?
my paranoia is getting the best of me, i need to calm down
a nice hot showing will cool my nerves
Right now I feel like life is in a pickle.
I just ate my last pop sickle.
That is right, I don't have a single Otter Pop left to my name.
Nobody will understand my pain.
I cannot settle my craving with an ice cube.
Hand on hand, skin on skin, touch touch
Sliding in your fingertips, touch touch
Blood is sauntering, energy is wandering
Both through the passageways of my veins
I was walking in the woods one day
In the merry month of May (couldn't resist)
I was smoking a fatty
Hey, what can I say
I stopped by this stump
I had to take a wee
When a big hairy dude
The time has come
To put the nonsense aside
I've waited all day
Now it's time to get high
So, I lock the door
And I load the bong
Turn on the stereo
To my favorite song
All I see are memories of your silohoutte
I remember the day you left
Like it was yesterday
You said you couldn't resist her
And Ma and I
Couldn't overlook the fact that
Everytime you came home
She picks up the lighter,
And he hands her the leaf.
Her body is on fire.
She is so ready to leave.
Her tears melt away,
When she hits the herb.
But the pain stays the same,
So here is a story about how I became oblivious to addiction
with a substance I've been told was something God had gifted
and a gift it was for a while at least
no sense of pain and time's existance just ceased
tank on E but i got that stank on me
gassed up in this bitch is you higher than me?
got a pack a swish a bowl and home made bongs
fast food fried nigga im dipped like a sunday cone
I remember altogether underneath the weather, hopes, dreams shining like sun beams. you know what it means I don’t and it seems So filled with passion and the will for action we thought for sure that you would have some traction.
The stoner rolls up his weed. As he licks the blunt it hits him harder than before... he's a loner. No ones around to marvel his perfect roll game. No one is around to call him by his name.
Living in todays' and not tomorrows satisfaction
Those choices turn to bad habits
It's just a matter of time before they reign havoc
The air is tainted, it was never pure
The temple is broken, the walls are torn
Never been shown, what to do or to say,shown what is known, when I write and I play.My choices are my own, and my own they will stay,restricted to me, when I wake or I lay.
Some people smoke weed to distract their mind how they feel,cause they don't wanna see the truth, but soon they'll notice it hit's hard and real.A lot of the time this is just for fun,
Now it is March,And thus begins the feudWinter or Spring? Warm or cold?Will the earth be renewed?Sick and tired of bitter wind,Most are ready for Spring.Winter gathers her few supporters
Breathing.Waking up late because IStayed up late.I wasDrinking.He wasAngry.Now I’mTexting.No answer.Texting.No answer.Texting.
Crickets chirp in the dead of the August night, "Listen, listen, listen to us!"
I start to tear up, throat closing around pain, but I am not suffering.
Why must
you make me suffer?
One error and I am faulty?
Why do you uproot my regret
and prevent me from my blossom?
Even the most delicate rose
has its thorns, and you still
Pu Puff Puff Pass *Smoking motion*
Pu Puff Puff Pass *Smoking motion*
It's like a jungle sometimes so I just roll that Tropic Thunder
Roll that Tropic Thunder
I stay high to keep from going under
He walks with
his leather jacket slumped over
his shoulders
and his violet backpack
swinging violently
from
his shoulders.
His mouth is
a motor,
Ha, my mind is a mess take away my struggle and relieve my stress cause this unhealthy relationship isn't at it's best. Full me with drugs and lets peek at whats next.
The first woman I ever loved
She definitely came from the heavens above
How else can you be so perfect?
The way you smell
Sometimes you even have those little red and orange hairs
Wrap your fingers around the bottle,
another sip,another swallow.
Try to keep your shaking hands still,
as you try to down the pills.
Welcome to the land of numb,
nothing hurts,nothing's fun.
17 and scarred4 years of a hellGroup of friends to hardly none
Drama spreading faster than wildfireKnives sharpened and reused on someone else's backBlame being pointed everywhere but the source
i got da weed thata make u ease
the cheese that radiates indigo beams
dope that lets u cope
with reality. in actuality
reality may not even be real
we r just trapped in a bag
and life is the seel.
It starts off as a thought in your head that you slowly try to push away.As days and weeks go by it turns into a question that needs an answer. "Should I?" "Do I really want to?"
From thee Earth it grow
One of His very own creations
This feeling is going so slow
For these radical denominations
We express our love in tree
Show them we won't stop
Partaking with such glee
"Inhale the good
Exhale the bad"
These words are spoken.. as they rise to a dream of a life they wish they had
I try to understand..
Why there is such a strong need for this thing known as "weed"..
Or..
