Of Mary Jane

A lit bud consumed
By glowing ember
As night time sets
A new September

The electric haze
Of an alkaloid dance
A string of words
A passing glance

A pleasure to perculate
This new memory made
A lady’s green grove
This spark serenades

The future held lightly
Strange notion of days
A fire burned brightly
This daydream ablaze


This flows so well.

Thanks… it was improv.

I really liked this one too. it has a very old feel to it, loosely reminds me of poems like The Lady of Chalotte (sp?).

…in terms of rhyme and flow, not content.

40’s brooklyn accent

I got a content for you, sobey, an abstinence too far!


'twas not meant as an insult to all of you fond of the funky buddha, or to imply that the poem was not good (I liked it), merely that poets of that time tended to devote their verse to love, rather than that.

Funky buddha… I like that.

The herb that burns
With fragrance sweet and sour
Crystal and green churns
Of the potent flower
Inhale, exhale
Compose the air with a hardly tangible Braille
The ghost of the herb on smoke sail

Relax, inspire
Creativity afire
Let it be known that
That the preacher is nothing without quire

Expressions flow
Smiles and realization
Simple ideas grow
With unique concentration
Playful paradigms and brainstorms snow
Then sink random to reach destination
Above Self expression’s highest plateau


hey seanie, i wrote one to go along with it