rbded

In the days of old,
The Pols' got bold'
And came up with an idea.
We see no need,they cried,
For the demon weed,
So when you toke up,
You'll have to go and hide.

Things are changin'
and lookin' better,
The laws are fallin',
And we can get a doctors letter,
That says we need,
A big joint of weed,
Not to get high,oh no,
Just so we can get by.

You can't, you can't,
Weeds not just a plant,
All the cops do say,
Even though you're sick
No smoking that stick,
Or exposing no plants to the sky.

Now we see,
That it's not about weed,
But about that almighty dollar,
My stuff they seize,
And don't say please,
Even though it makes me holler.

So in to court we go,
To see the big show,
And ask him if it's alright.
You can't, you can't,
It's not just a plant,
And then he slaps his little hammer.
You are evil,he say,
And breaking the law don't pay,
That is unless you get a good seizure.

So now I sit,
Here on my hip,
With not a blade to smoke,
The cops came, you see,
And took it away from me,
Now all I can do is give them lip.

But wait a bit,
Thats a friend I see,
Coming up the drive,
He'll have for me,
A bong hit to fry,
And then I'll feel better.

So you see my friends,
It never ends,
This circle we have made,
lets all get high,
And stick it in their eye,
Then maybe a poor old head can get by.

OverDrive

that's an excellent poem, man!

It speaks the truth, and it's very well written.

DoritosMan

5 doritos out of 5

i´m telling you,man, you gotta write a book with stories and little poems like this

very good

__________________
another tasteless and odorless latin american

I pity the fool that dont use the search engine!

MidniteToker

Hey, nice poem man... i wish i had the guts to post the weed poems i wrote on here My teacher said one day that most poems were about life, sex, and death... so i decided to write a few about the one thing that makes all of those better. Doesn't weed inspire the poet in all of us?

RIP JMorrison

That is a great poem, I can see you like poetry. That little poem at the beginning of your Moo Story is funny too.

You have a lot of talent there, rbded.

__________________
There are things known and there are things unknown and in between are the Doors - Jim Morrison

9-11-01

diogenes

I dig the verse man. It's interesting how Americans are still so stuck in their historically Puritan system of morality. BY making pot illegal, are they saying that it makes us bad people to smoke it? Or that perhaps people in Amsterdam are not as smart as our politicians? It's funny how this country is run on a somewhat archaic and arbitrary set of rules offset only by the money that helps to drive the authoritative vehicals that monitor us. But, I've never lived outside of this country, so maybe other systems DON'T really work as well. Somehow, I doubt it though. It sucks that the government, one of many patriarchal and parental types of figures that we have in society, chooses to condemn so many of the people that it was instated to "protect". What do you think the government's main function is SUPPOSED to be? and why can't anyone in politics seem to see it... how depressing.

KnattySpliff

A spliff a day,
keeps the doctors away,
I continually say,
but no way,
can I smoke the crazy hay,
the politicians say.

they say no,
and my friends say "Woah!"
"They don't know"
so keep up the puff and blow
until you're high enough to hallucinate snow,
in the middle of the desert, bro!"

deadhed

A Stoner Gives a Try at Reciting a Poem
a freeverse poem by Mary Jane

I like weed.
It's weed I need.
Me and Tiff,
We smoke a spliff,
And get...
Aah **** it, I forget the rest.

I'm hungry.
Who's ordering pizza this time around?

Lets watch cartoons.

KWhite

I sit beneath a moonlit sky, my soul heavy as my labored sigh, hard this road, it seems to me, my nation, my people, will not make me free.
My Gods are held in low contempt, my beliefs trampled and torn, my use of this sacred herb, promotes their anger, scorn.
Lonely my voice wails at them, in solitude I rail, can you believe, I am evil, because I dare to puff, to inhale?
Peace I ask, simple peace, allow me the dignity of self, to make and stand, by this days decision, to be honorable within my own lights, to at the least, credit me, with the intelligence to fight my own fights.
It is hard, to be the outcast, yet the moon she does not care, she shines so bright on smoker, teetotaler, and whiles time away up there.
But peace I have made, so be it then, a criminal I will be named, yet deep within, I deny this term, for smoking what the gods have made.
Your words deny me humanity, to you I am evil, forlorn, but my courage and my backbone, deny this, your tangled crown of thorns.
I am at peace, and fight anew, for in me is certitude, to win the honor, the freedom and peace, each day a new battle brings.
Gladly I rise, and gladly sleep, in calm acceptance, you can not bind my dreams.
When all is said, and all is done, the moon she will still shine, My Gods will cherish the quiet strength, which is forever....
Mine.

Kelly L. White
A smokers prayer

dedbr

KWhites a poet,
And I didn't know it.

__________________
Though my soul may set in darkness,
It will rise in perfect light.
I have loved the stars too fondly,
To be fearful of the night." Sarah Williams

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