Best Stoners Poems
Twas the night before Christmas and all were in need
as we waited for Santa who had promised us Weed.
Our parents were sleeping with not a clue in their heads
that their children were Stoners and away from their beds.
The cheetos had been placed on the table with care
with an idea dear Santa soon would be there.
The winter was cold with no time for a snack
hoping Kris Kringle would come with fresh Pot from his sack.
I had been to the Bank and had obtained hordes of cash
with a fervent desire St. Nick would bring the best of his Stash.
We had our concerns for a reasonable fellow
who was honest and straight... no harshing our mellow.
The time had been set as I looked at the clock
knowing the waiting was tense and we needed our Pot.
And then from the porch a strange sound did we hear
but it was only friend Jim who had gone for some beer.
I stared out the window and peered through the snow
and we were greatly concerned whether Santa would show.
And then from the street... what did I observe?
A '72 ford Pinto... which was stuck on the curb.
The engine was smoking and the tires were flat
and with the windows quite frosted... I reached for my bat.
This didn't look good as I gave way to doubt.
Wondering who was the driver and who would come out?
And who should come forth? But Santa himself
who was all bearded and fat, a jolly old Elf.
He climbed to our rooftop... was nimble and quick
thus avoiding the doorbell... this fella was slick.
He was now in the chimney and this lightened our hearts
and we knew he was close when we heard the Elf fart.
And then in an instant the Big Guy appeared
but asking double the price for which we had feared.
We told him our troubles as he pondered our point,
he then lowered the price on every third Joint.
The payment was made and the dope was obtained
and up the chimney he rose unconcerned for the flame.
I'll remember that night... for it was a doozy
when Santa came through... and brought me a Doobie.
As he drove out of sight... I heard him calling my name...
Merry Christmas to all and goodnight Mary Jane.
The End
*For those who are interested. I will be posting my cartoon 'Bob's your Uncle' on my homepage. A new one will appear every second day.
Walk with me
along the pale green shadows that fall
on the thin and winding pathways of the wood
where all is quiet and full of growth
wet with the drops of midnight rain.
Breathe in softly,
the heavy laden air
thick and burdened by the drops.
Keep watch at every step
as large and small puddles form
that lay stationary for a moment
then flow downhill to the ponds
where the river runs cascading on the stoners.
Stop a moment
hold your place
take in the view.
Listen to the sounds
birdsong as it fades in and out the trees
wind rustling branch and leaves
where deer step and pause at their surroundings
and squirrel and chipmunk chatter in chase.
Catch the sun
slipping thru the canopy
with light rays resting in the shade.
Smell the scent wafting in the wood
where pine and honeysuckle burst on the air
and every rain drop blushes in innocent clarity
wafting across the damp wet fallen leaves
left from autumn's winter.
Walk with me
escape the hurried pace of the outer world
and submit to the marvels of nature's blessings.
a flustered tango of Gypsy moths
drumming the porchlight; chalk artists;
the endemic disappearance of farms—silos lost
in unkempt fields; space stations; the sunlit-scent of lemon
oil on cherry wood; birth; the chasm between cultural
appropriation & cultural appreciation; the history in our dust;
loneliness & heartbreak; trivia; funky funerals;
climate change, hurricanes, earthquakes & neglected
victims; heirloom charm bracelets, homemade
wind chimes & the homing sound made by a singing bowl;
masquerade balls; cityscapes hidden in ant hills; fly
fishing; serendipitous skinny dipping; missing children,
teddy bear memorials, forensic identification, monsters
never found in sleepy towns; the horrors of zoos—
elephants gone mad, lions robbed of their pride;
book reviews; civil unrest, bad cops & good cops & young men
gunned down; brand new fire stations; cancer survivors who wear
baldness so beautifully; my favourite pair of jeans; river rocks
found by dearest hands; a letter that can never be
received; joyful celebrations; incandescent dragonfly
dreams; twenty million at risk of starving to death;
wildflowers shaking pretty little heads;
misogyny disguised as religion; forgotten veterans who die
a bit more inside every day; the rainforest, shrinking;
saintly stoners & postulant prostitutes; toxic smog;
madmen with warheads; cheese cake & ice wine;
every personalized Kama sutra move & the God-given
ecstasy of body on body language; holding hands;
why one giggle can change everything; Thanksgiving
prayers; abandoned minefields, boy soldiers & devastating
amputations; the songs of the working poor; lightning
over the lake; his timely phone calls; brotherhood & sisterhood;
love in its every form; old maps; twenty-one gun salutes;
the extinction of the Galapagos Giant Tortoise; being
five, being twenty five, being ninety-five; kites; dogs chawing
on ragged rawhide; church-like museums on a Sunday
afternoon; make-shift picnics; deja vu; thrift store
wedding dresses; long drives with comfortable silences;
fading freedoms; censorship; seamless moonlight;
introspective dalliances with self-acceptance; the power
of purpose; how to be the bigger person; how to go
in a new direction; how to rise above . . .
Jumping the jam,
I am peter pan,
doing a man,
don't know his name at this dam.
Down-stream is a clam,
up is a nap-
I creak when I walk,
never stop for talk,
just smoke a lot,
and hope for a magical robot,
to intercept the hotness right outta the golf.
Reading a lot,
speeding at the shop,
rotating at the main evacuation,
suffocating during masterb#***$!
Stoning without stoners to bank it,
waiting for sin to just spank it!
I read the riddles,
and rape the shingles-
right off red roofs,
of old men sitting in bagels.
I retort the regime,
I run from the scene,
I do all the same drugs,
I hate all the same thugs.
She's got lots of money but no fooking heart
Her forked tongue could put the poison on a tribesman's dart
All the things she did to drive us apart
She talks so much **** her breath smells of fart.
All the bad she thought she saw in me
With her head up That, how could she see
She can be unkind and pretty mean
I think she's blind to reality.
Snobbies like her think they're a better class
Ideologies like that make her an ****
Be careful of stoners if your home's made of glass
Thanks to her moaning Love turns to farce.
With a coldness that makes a cadaver seem warm
Black magic stabs at my side with a prickly thorn
If truth were a fabric her clothes would be torn
Return to your coffin at the break of dawn.
She could sell Maggoty Thatcher a pitch
On how to be more of a *****
Or to hate the poor because you're rich
What to do when the mother in laws a *****?
Why does she hate me and so berate me
Way underrate me any chance to slate me
For blood she thirsted with a mind perverted
Sanity was diverted and to stereotypes she reverted.
She's mean and cold and stuffed with spite
You just can't hold or hug too tight
She's been a sold a Love that's right
It's not just gold shines so bright.
I don't think it very funny
The old hags to bent on money
And baby, my honey
I'm afraid your mummy
May have contaminated you inside her tummy.
People around the world
Are smoking marijuana
Just like a coconut tree
Is god’s gift to nature?
But some men with power
They gone and make it illegal
When every one knows
The real problem is alcohol
Since the beginning of time
The tribes would come together
And they smoke the hemp
To make peace with one another
It’s a gift to mankind
Just Like the grass in your yard
Now they arrest you for this?
I think the world has gone mad
For some smoking marijuana
Does help focus on they studies
And its use by doctors, lawyers
And professors in universities
If you get arrest with marijuana
You will get a record for life
But some can walk in a store
Buy alcohol and drink and drive
It has so many different verities
Of alcohols in the store
But still they say we can’t
Pick an herb and smoke no more
The tree of life grows by the river
Says the book of revelations
And the leaves of the tree
Is the healing of the nations?
Marijuana cures much illness
It’s a healing remedy
But some use it to get stone
And that’s not the way it should be
These people are crazy today
They even abuse regular medication
So you can’t class them with others
Who use it for healing and meditation?
It has a name for the stoners
And its simple they’re abusers
And the name of others
Well they’re the real users
People are getting obese
By the fast foods of today
Yet it’s completely legal
To sit down and eat you life away
Cigarette is very dangerous
But the powerful like to smoke
When every day you see on TV
It cause cancer and leads to stroke
So if I want to smoke a joint
In the private comfort of my home
Then you should make it legal
And just leave me to hell alone
By Laura
June 25, 2015
When did these amphetamines become the better part of me?
Masses strung out high above the labels we blindly believe
Crazy are the ones who drop the speed and slow it down
Foolish are the ones who think that ADD gave up the crown
There are no cures behind the trusted labels in the pharmacy
We’re tweakers, junkies, stoners; high on complacency
Ignorance is the pipe we smoke our haunted spirit of lies
Bliss is the drug we greedily pursue without our tired eyes
When did we stop looking for the answers to our questions?
When did we start believing in false prophets inside the sun?
We pray, we love, we consume without direction of any kind
This life of mine is starting to look like the blind leading the blind
I’m strung out these days on lies insurance companies buy
No search for the cure when the addicts just want to cry
Too much money at stake for false prophets to step down
They would rather play king while the masses slowly drown
Until the day we all will drown
Until the day we burn to the ground
When you’re feeling bored and blue, ‘cause there’s nothing fun to do,
Just dip in your bubble wand, and blow a bubble big and round.
There’s no fun that can compare, to blowing bubbles in the air.
See how big your bubble grows, before it pops right on your nose.
Blowing bubbles is so fun, inside or out in the sun.
Big kids, small kids, we don’t care. Just blow bubbles in the air.
Puff, puff, puff. Chase some bubbles. Puff... Pop your troubles.
Puff... Make some doubles. Puff... Blow more bubbles.
Of all the things that are so fun, blowing bubbles is number one!
Blowing bubbles can’t go wrong, so come on parents sing along.
All these bubbles, we should share, so let’s blow bubbles everywhere!
Puff, puff, puff. Chase some bubbles. Puff... Pop your troubles.
Puff... Make some doubles. Puff... Blow more bubbles.
Dip back in your bubble wand, and blow more bubbles all around.
You’ll be happy as can be, blowing bubbles just like me.
Everybody everywhere, keep blowing bubbles in the air.
Puff, puff, puff. Chase some bubbles. Puff... Pop your troubles.
Puff... Make some doubles. Puff... Blow more bubbles.
Sorry, ‘stoners’, you are wrong. This is not about your bong.
Chasing bubbles and running free is healthier than THC!
Everybody everywhere, keep blowing bubbles in the air.
Puff, puff, puff. Chase some bubbles. Puff... Pop your troubles.
Puff... Make some doubles. Puff... Blow more bubbles.
Heard a song in the car today
'Bout girls that cheer and boys that play
They were their town's kings and queens
And everyone that knows them dreams
About those good ol' kids of fall
To me that don't seem right at all
I'm sure those folks are nice enough
But for most that just 'aint how it was
So how 'bout someone sings
A song for us
Maybe you were new to town
Felt lonely and got real down
Thought you couldn't be yourself
Was a bully to somebody else
Maybe you were pushed around
At home, at school, up and down
So you ran with a rebel crowd
That wore their misfit badges proud
Exchange students and mathletes
Stoners and band geeks
A different look, a different type
You do you, you'll do alright
So kids of summer, kids of fall
Queens and kings of the school hall
Won’t you add your voices to the chorus
We'll sing this song for all of us
June 28, 2018
The highest plant
it’s high.
it’s lit and lifted.
it’s crushed and green.
it’s dry and gin.
it leaves spectacles red
it has steam yeah it’s grey
it’s higher
it leaves you high
the greatest plant compliment
the greatest sip moment
no! the greatest eat moment
no! the greatest puff moment
yes…… yes…… the great…
the great……… the greatest plant
yes…… the highest plant….
it grows down from the fertile soil
it’s gross highness is till the fertile sky
sky is not fertile
fertile is Mary jane’s garden
it’s burdened
am so enthusiastic
to emphasis the beauty of the highest plant
indica
which can be indicated as cannabis
and can be usually called MJ
Michael Jackson…. No!
Mack Jack…… No!
M…….. Mari
J……… Juana
whats that?
Mary Jane? No!
what then?
something like weed….. NO!
weed is seed….
what then? something like the highest plant
wiz khalifa’s favourite plant
the highest plant
Marijuana ……. The greatest plant
the highest plant
the coolest plant
stoners are the lovers
of the coolest plant prettier than rose….
am high with the plant…..
I RISE
By
Str.kid
Breezy
Written January 17, 2015
I was born to the hunter
I was raised with the sheep
I was brought in with the soldiers
I was told not to fall asleep
I was told not to wonder
What lies on the otherside
Once I was a loner
Loitered around with the stoners
Who sought only to dream
But for the days when their dreams came true
Hand in hand with you
And everyone else who holds these ideals true
But as for now
We lie beneath the boulders
All the rubble that molds us
To stand shoulder to shoulder
With all those who came before words
That made us realize
That we're only a child
In the eyes of time
In reality
We can only hope
To become a spec of dust
In the vacuum of history
Stop hogging
The joint, you are not the
Only stoner in this room
Newbies! Newbies!
Ever so selfish!
Roll me a fatty newbie
So I can watch this movie
The Truth That Must Apply
I’m testing fate for now, resembling a vision,
A reality hit the present, world-wide division,
Rapist on the loose yet stoners on death row,
Nowadays reality, freedom where’d it go?
We vow to live stress-free, but the opposite applies,
Why does all authority get away with all these lies?
Homeless on the rise, they don’t have a say,
Innocent in my home, until they take it away.
Where is the freedom, where is the promised rights?
Not in this lifetime, while there’s children alone in the nights.
Narcotics taking over, leaving the economy on there last breath,
Always remember the end, jails, institutions and death.
Loyalty is losing its meaning; the world’s turning in,
No ones better than anyone else, we all do our daily sin.
The facilities are over packing, maybe it’s a sign,
It sickens me that some inmates don’t see the sun shine,
Race against each race, violence on the rise,
Global discrimination, National leaders breaking ties.
Inflation over exaggerating, leaving people with out homes,
Federally involved technology, sending drone type items that roams.
-Nicholette Bernice Perry”
RickyNicholeFlanigan
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Four walls one couch
Four bros one pound
Dense smoke in this house
Light stoners start passing out
While real stoners laugh
Then roll more loud
Literally we're in a cloud
My thoughts end up in lost and found
If you got some cash
You can get some hash
If you got some cash
you'll smoke some dank
I end up in L.A.
A new beginning.
But underneath the layers,
Of movie stars and
Beauty Queens and Jocks.
I see the sheen of dirt
Lurking beneath the streets.
The stoners, dealers,
Fake girls with red lips.
It’s the same in every
City. Sounds depressing.
I guess I’m used to it.
Kyle…the guy who did
It all. That’s what
They say to me. Why so
Chivalrous now?
Why the big ego? You’re
No better than us.
Jealousy turns corpses over
In their graves.
Watch yourself boy,
They taunt…
Don’t let your ego
Fly to high.
I feel like the old Scrooge
The weight of my sins
Dragging me down.
Anna hauled me up.
I pulled her down.
She was too good
For me anyways.
Forget, forget, forget…
Painful memories that plague my mind…
Scars, home, her name…
Why does her name…
Still have the power to hurt me?
I’m a living disease,
Only barely alive.
Capable of destruction,
Of poisoning, and
Hurting the ones I love.
People I care about.