Painters strive for the perfect stroke
Comedians look for the perfect joke
Writers seek to engage or provoke
P0rn stars strain for the perfect poke
Students grind, hoping they won’t choke
Trump derides his conviction as a hoax
Yachtsmen yearn for the perfect boat
Social climbers aspire to be bespoke
Politicians pretend to be regular folk
Workers yearn to throw off their yoke
Golfers train for a consistent stroke
Flyers pray their Boeing isn’t broke
Stoners want the ultimate toke
A smile is what I want to provoke
.
.
A song for this:
Good Luck, Babe! by Chappell Roan
Categories:
stoners, fun, humor, poetry,
Form: Rhyme
Stoners of the world unite
Buds in hand let's sing a song
Someone please give me a light
I just filled my beaker bong
Categories:
stoners, song, world,
Form: Rhyme
In the darkest nights of my forgotten stronghold,
My eternal friend had came to me as foretold;
He had fell into darkness, his soul it was sold,
He had shown me the things so much richer than gold
In the darkness, fading light, men crucify men
Stones are cast by those who sin again and again
Eternal friend, my light within, writes by this pen
So stoners therefore wonder where he came and when
Eternal friend, undying glow, depart from me
I cannot bare to smile again, please let me be
Undying soul – a friend within – he will not flee
Born of your innocence, begotten of the sea
Spirit of your purity, you put him away
If you disown your light, your light will become prey
His voice it rumbles, for him all the people pray
But you disregard him, so long as he would stay
Eternal friend, fading face, even I once knew
I was holding to you, you saw the things I do
Fire blazing from your soul, my judgement is you
Spirit of my youth and the part of me that grew
Eternal friend, don’t forsake me, let me ascend
To gather you to me so we both can transcend
Only one who knows me, to you my hand I lend
And then will I unite with my undying friend
Categories:
stoners, allegory, angel, best friend,
Form: Rhyme
It was to be a lazy afternoon
spent at a nearby park.
Jordan, Anthony, and I
swung on the swings
and climbed their wooden structure
& the gazebo.
We thought back on how we all
used to hang out there as little kids.
Now look at us--
dope-smokers in 10th grade...
The basketball court was empty,
so we hung out there.
A young kid,
about 8 or 9,
decided to join us.
Wanting to impress Jordan & Anthony,
he began to pick on me,
as I was the weakest & the nerdiest of the group.
But it wasn't like I could do
anything about him.
If I threw out insults,
he stood the chance of harming himself.
And surely beating the outta
a much younger kid
was frowned upon...
Nothing he did or said
got under my skin, necessarily,
he was just so goddamn annoying.
I'd be lying if I said I didn't
entertain some thought of
pushing him in front of a moving vehicle.
On the walk home,
Jordan and I discussed his awful strategy
to make friends.
Categories:
stoners, 10th grade, age, anger,
Form: Prose
Tis the season,
for tan lines,
Enjoying the day,
while the sun shines.
People of every,
color and size,
So many beautiful women,
it's hard to believe your eyes.
Gorgeous women showing off,
strutting their stuff.
Smiling, tan bodies,
you just can't get enough.
More beauty,
than your eyes can behold,
Skin more golden,
than the color of gold.
Folks are drinking, chilling,
grilling, ready to feast,
The rich the poor,
the homeless and a priest.
Tall, short,
skinny or chunky,
We have it all;
even a guy and his monkey.
Soda, beer, cannabis,
pills and alcohol,
Drinkers, stoners, pushers,
buyers, come one come all.
It's about having,
a good time and a little fun,
Tis the season of,
Summer and CALIFORNIA SUN………
TURBO1904 JULY,2020
Categories:
stoners, seasons,
Form: Rhyme
I’m thinking we’re on a downhill slide
With self-aggrandizing politicians now,
Bloviating so self-assured and snide
Paying no attention to their campaign vow.
With an eye on their big monied donors,
They think little of their constituencies
Sometimes I think they are really stoners,
And need more prayer time on their knees.
written October 24, 2021
Categories:
stoners, anger, how i feel,
Form: Rhyme
Killers will kill
stoners will slide on the high
hookers will hook
trapping coins between sticky thighs-
Preachers will preach
to husbands and wives
then swallow the piss
of their own muddy lies-
The rapist will rape
the covenant will give
at times its hard to make out
which is the lamb and which is the pig-
Gods will guide and judge from afar
presidents will pickle men
then place them in jars-
The idiot swallows his own ramblings
the lush roots for bottles of peace
despite everything-time keeps sprinting
weather you sip the blood of Christ.
or swig down a ninety-proof drink.
Categories:
stoners, abuse, god,
Form: Free verse
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
Categories:
stoners, celebration, rap,
Form: Lyric
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
Categories:
stoners, high school, school, social,
Form: Lyric
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.
Categories:
stoners, adventure, magic, nature,
Form: Carpe Diem
Creeping in the night
Moonlight like stars shine
Grim reapers fly,
Cats meow to the sight
Ashley said "G you gotta go to z"
Z met M, so we all do
Like natives and modern man,
Is it money?
Is it greed?
Is it our imagination?
All I know is that we insane!
From flies to ice
Like sky full of clouds,
Blue as blue and no lies
Questions of a moor.
Riddles die, doors closed
mates pass by Like sports cars speeding,
Red as blood, blood like line
No selection, no chosen one!
Champs and lads to geeks
The personification of personalities,
Body as a vehicle, a coupe with my lady
Fast lane but im cruising,
Sleeping but awake
Eyes shut but I see the light,
Dreams of some sort
Imagination as life, life like juice
Juice so sweet and bread so tasty,
Rain forests and deserts,
now that's a sandwich
Mmmm! yummy.
More red, more roses please
O that's for my lady,
Black robes and beautiful dresses
High men to clergy,
A miller like a scholar
just without the machinery,
Stoners and writers,
To poets and rappers
Constructing words,
building paragraphs
No! we not masons Just free men,
Writing to the mass I hope
they understand my message.
Categories:
stoners, deep, irony,
Form: Verse
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
Categories:
stoners, addiction,
Form: ABC
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
Categories:
stoners, abuse, addiction, america, betrayal,
Form: Lyric
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
Categories:
stoners, child, childhood, growing up,
Form: Lyric
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.
Categories:
stoners, abuse, anger, corruption, depression,
Form: I do not know?
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