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#joint
juggling joints pressuring points is it love or just a tornado? unfulfilled void taxing joy is it a crime to want incredible? refocused mind estimated time is it a journey worth my hopes?
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Jan 31
Jan 31, 2026 at 10:42 AM UTC
Is it a Crime?
Give someone a joint. Watch them glow. Watch the squirrel run down the birch wood tree. Congruency in lives, It’s complexity is unmatched like The Mighty Leaf Vs The Hungry Giraffe, Who’s David? Lalalaisallthismeans.
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Jul 14, 2021
Jul 14, 2021 at 12:18 AM UTC
Give a Joint
Pieces of paranoia Placed properly, in parts of my brain We're all the same Noises ,are noted as loud Not , nothing or quiet ; Like a race car Driving on a highway You can't act calm Nor contently Mostly on crack , You're crazy It's an escape from events And/or our ethnicity To be or not to be just Another soul It's bonkers our minds , Blasts , such wild Imagination beyond our World A plant so potent Rich in poison It breaks away The pain Masks the broken And enhances the Spoken We're all the same.
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Dec 15, 2020
Dec 15, 2020 at 3:22 PM UTC
High , we're all the same.
Me, my wife and our married life I got married in 2003 Life was young and free I was 26 and I took the risk I belong to a joint family she grew in a nuclear family Our thoughts were a mismatch conversations were out of catch She liked to have an open talk I was a reserved lot Her expectations were different my ideologies were repellent she was a career woman I an ambitious man I persuaded on my own business her career was left in a mess   slowly I started understanding life started turning she became my good friend our conversations are in blend Now our marriage is in teen Life looks all young and green With my kids, my dear Thank you God, my eyes in tear. Hemang Dani
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Jul 15, 2020
Jul 15, 2020 at 12:02 AM UTC
My married life
BY CRAIG J. BURT & JIMMY BOOM SEMTEX 5/22/20 90 degrees today Crazy mood & happy Ready to test out my brand new Audi Down this bumpy road The best time's right now German made quality car Aircon & tunes are on You smile & we are complete.
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May 24, 2020
May 24, 2020 at 12:55 PM UTC
Vehicle Inferno
Preachers in another storm ‘STAY’ whispers Mother Followed by another joint hands are met and with him I crash My bloodstained shadow running thrashed onto the walls Cray-Cray Calling Dos Tres – Another! Better! Quatro Cinco – What a disaster! T’was never my intention But I succeed at my own failures for there has always been a reward after my tormented failure. - But You can’t say I left you empty handed you can’t say I didn’t offer you all I had I just left for I found better. I know – What a ***
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May 4, 2020
May 4, 2020 at 7:24 AM UTC
You can’t say I left you empty handed; my bloodstained shadow.
All I wanted to do Was go to the Moon It's where they all said, it was at "Why, it was amazing up there!" It was the place to go The place to be You just had to go there It just had to be seen. So! So I went to the Moon And they all smiled at me And nodded their heads "Isn't it beautiful ?", they all said Yes, I replied, it's... it's beautiful It's just like... like a great big A great big...... Quarry!!! Lots of rocks and shale and dust and    stuff... About as empty as my soul And empty as yours as well I fear.                           II (Maybe I could set up a hamburger    stall there Sell Moonburgers and nice crispy    Saturn onion rings And Milky Way milkshakes At least then...at least then they'd be filled with something).
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Feb 5, 2020
Feb 5, 2020 at 11:19 AM UTC
Trip to the Moon (The Emperor's Clothes)
A bone meets another bone And you have a joint ! Joints are allright ! Cartilage ! Without them you couldn't possibly dance ! Imagine only your sacrum and your ilium and no sacro-iliac joint And no innominate bones Imagine just a second a pelvis without coccyx And your seven cervical Your twelve thoracic And your five lumbar vertebrae Hanging loose ! How could you possibly swing your pelvis From one side to the other Without your pelvic floor ? No more grand plié No more passé développé à la seconde No more attitude en avant on pointe Farewell penché Farewell attitude derrière ! See what I mean ! That's why I always say I'd rather be with no bone No skull no heart Ï 'd rather be a hurricane Wind has no skeleton Wind needs no joint Wind goes naked No shoes, no underwear And despite of all that Wind is a ballet dancer, a danseur étoile With no dimples in the back. Wind can lie supine and stand upright Feet parallel, legs stretched Wind has no greater nor lesser trochanter Wind has no right gluteus maximus muscle No feet flexed, no ****** femoris muscle Wind never gets pinched, stuck nor jammed Wind is constant ricochet, yo-yo, meanders Gulf Stream ! Wind is a catwalk model Dancing its swinging walk
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Aug 27, 2019
Aug 27, 2019 at 6:50 PM UTC
A bone meets another bone
The wind whistling, through the trees, Your face tingling, in the sun beams, The glimmer of raindrops, on wildflowers, Beautiful clouds, filling the empty hours, Grains of sand, trickling down, to the bottom of the glass, The scratch of the lighter, as you light your smoke, and prepare to pass, The longing desire, for the next inhale, Keep the lighter ready, if the joint is stale, Simple pleasures, fulfilling empty desire, Twinkling eyes, gaze at the fire, The weight has lifted, it’s never been so light, Another deep breath, watch the joint glow bright, The air has never, smelled so sweet, This pine forest, is your new retreat, Steady yourself, at the base of a tree, For the first time, you are free.
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May 18, 2019
May 18, 2019 at 1:11 PM UTC
Free
But find no comfort in its feathers and patchwork. despite the wine and rich food, breaking down into calories, i feel cold, way deep inside, and it’s the kind of cold that can’t be fought with Hollandaise or alcohol or a pile of quilts. i wish i had a joint. a big, fat, stinky j to slide me into sleep. but no, all i can do is lie here, brain turning summersaults. it’s nights these when memories stir, whipping themselves into stiff peaks of pain. here comes one now, materializing like Daddy did that night. the night he came to me, crossed the final line.
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Sep 3, 2018
Sep 3, 2018 at 11:33 PM UTC
I stumble off to bed
The fear of a soldier Is a Hollow Point The fear of the government Is a Hollow Joint .
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Jul 20, 2018
Jul 20, 2018 at 5:17 PM UTC
Hollow Joint
Nous nous battons pour protéger ceux que nous aimons; et nous sacrifier à notre tour. Le heurtoir en argent posé sur la porte de la mort s'est égratigné et s'est usé dans ma main. Dans la mort, nous trouvons la paix, mais dans la vie, nous trouvons l'amour. Avec cela, vous ne pouvez pas gagner la guerre, mais soyez assuré que vous gagnerez la bataille en cours Et, la bataille sera gagnée, pas avec des chiffres, mais avec la volonté pure Tant que vous ne tombez pas en proie aux mains égoïstes de la cupidité Et même si ces mains vous dévoraient, vos grands héritages survivront dans ceux qui vous ont connu Et le baiser doux de la mort sera juste un autre tourneur de page dans votre histoire sans fin. Car une histoire, aussi importante que la tienne, ne meurt jamais; il est seulement oublié dans la bibliothèque d'un esprit Pourtant, je promets de rester et de garder les pages de tomber entre les mains de la carie Car même si ces pages tombent, elles seront rappelées et surveillées; regardé par ceux qui vous regardaient avant Parce que ces souvenirs ont été conçus par le seul amour intouchable par les mains du temps.
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Apr 16, 2018
Apr 16, 2018 at 6:25 PM UTC
History Lesson
The mainstay of guests, Their backs against chairs That are backed against walls, Readily seated and settled Into tight knit sub communities And discussion cells… Thrashing out social failings And political ineptitudes Gleaned from broadsheets And RT News updates, Mumbling agreements Or gentle dissents, Some too ****** to participate (should have “passed the kouchie ‘pon the left hand side”). One spills red wine onto white cloth And they all laugh longer than necessary About the irony of it all Even though there was no irony In the situation to begin with. There are a small handful of male guests That I feel I could get along with. I give way in the doorway For the hostess to deliver nibbles. There are a handful of female guests That I think I’d like to **** (the hostess included), But none of this allays the reluctance To step through the threshold. The hostess exits the room As I pin myself to the hallway wall, “It could be you”, I think, And try to relay this through a raised eyebrow smile That goes unnoticed. I attempt my break in Just as the conversation turns to The importance of contemporary art In modern society And the relevance of Jim Morrison’s poetry In the cerebral world of words. I search audibly for a conversation Centred around Adele’s latest album release… And I NEVER, on a good day, want to talk about THAT. In for a penny, I take the step with a fuzzy indifference And am drawn to a hand extending the offer of a spliff, And to the ***** of empty wine glass on full bottle, And a “will you, won’t you?” expression, And I trip and fall over a synthetic fur rug Lying, recumbent, too scared to take my eyes Off the pendulum light bulb that hovers above me And all I can think is that the hallway Was a much safer place to be. Copyright Marc Hawkins 2017
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Oct 7, 2017
Oct 7, 2017 at 5:39 AM UTC
TRIPPING OVER THE WELCOME MAT
The mainstay of guests, Their backs against chairs That are backed against walls, Readily seated and settled Into tight knit sub communities And discussion cells… Thrashing out social failings And political ineptitudes Gleaned from broadsheets And RT News updates, Mumbling agreements Or gentle dissents, Some too ****** to participate (should have “passed the kouchie ‘pon the left hand side”). One spills red wine onto white cloth And they all laugh longer than necessary About the irony of it all Even though there was no irony In the situation to begin with. There are a small handful of male guests That I feel I could get along with. I give way in the doorway For the hostess to deliver nibbles. There are a handful of female guests That I think I’d like to **** (the hostess included), But none of this allays the reluctance To step through the threshold. The hostess exits the room As I pin myself to the hallway wall, “It could be you”, I think, And try to relay this through a raised eyebrow smile That goes unnoticed. I attempt my break in Just as the conversation turns to The importance of contemporary art In modern society And the relevance of Jim Morrison’s poetry In the cerebral world of words. I search audibly for a conversation Centred around Adele’s latest album release… And I NEVER, on a good day, want to talk about THAT. In for a penny, I take the step with a fuzzy indifference And am drawn to a hand extending the offer of a spliff, And to the ***** of empty wine glass on full bottle, And a “will you, won’t you?” expression, And I trip and fall over a synthetic fur rug Lying, recumbent, too scared to take my eyes Off the pendulum light bulb that hovers above me And all I can think is that the hallway Was a much safer place to be. Copyright Marc Hawkins 2017
Continue reading...
53
People Smoke A Joint Because… People smoke a joint because It calms them down, It makes them laugh. The symmetry Of mediocrity’s conventions flee. It also makes them hungry. Answers come, And often laughter is the payoff. Nineteen sixty Groups ingested LSD To see more beauty, Dig into the new, Change patterns that were old in mind, Find truths that were not there to find, Break down, build up, Sip from the cup of everything there is to sip. So people drink because they are More able to shift gears, Take risks, lose fears. The problem is to lay off, stay off. That would be a real payoff. Get it? Layoff, stay off, payoff? I liked that. People Smoke A Joint Because… 5.25.2010 revised 8.8.2010 Circling Round Energy; Revelations Big & Small; Arlene Corwin Started 2008
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Aug 8, 2017
Aug 8, 2017 at 4:01 PM UTC
People Smoke A Joint Because...
Fight and struggle, thoughts of milling. What kind of points will you be killing? The points that are the sharpest I will not let you transform this mind into something that is softer! There's no end game, you lack in confidence, just make another offer Offers, games, how plastic and lavish? Your thoughts are simple, hopeful, and savage. Leave me with my madness I rather be this, instead of average Your just mad because I'm a maverick A stand alone rock Your side of the brain will never handle my thoughts Ok Garfunkel, you island How brave a stone is on your beach, but my words don't need to be a preach I strangle your mind with time, sand An hourglass will show your faults Think about what you say before you begin to talk Strangling me will only put this place at a halt! You and I coexist, let's unify in this struggle We can continue fighting, but it will all end in rubble,destruction & burning debris Can we agree to disagree in these words that we speak Can we foresee a brighter future That is within reach If not our habitat will forever be meek Silence in violence, a place where two have suffered defeat Two have defeat? Can't you see, you are the one to change Long term thought, intelligent meet Can't you see, you have become strange It is proof that I am victorious, your ignorance It's crazy how you have shown my brilliance
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Nov 21, 2016
Nov 21, 2016 at 11:19 PM UTC
Internal struggle (part 2) - A collabo poem with anonymous anonymous
breaking it down is half the work a step that must never be skipped rolling it up in your leaf of choice is a step that must be considered art the first light is the most important a step that is for the one who crafted they should also be the first to enjoy it a step the rest respect eventually all power is seemingly gone from the one who created and everyone feels equal once their turn has passed yet let us not forget the one who rolled it for they are the one who has saved the rest
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Oct 17, 2016
Oct 17, 2016 at 3:26 AM UTC
bluntly
Party started at 8 o'clock Halloween we're gonna rock Come on and join the keg line For witches brew in blood you sign Pass the devils joint or two Through out the night happenings ensue We all get drunk and surround the fire Throw on more wood make it higher Moonshine rules the night, it goes down smooth Don't drink to much or your memory you just might lose Watching people flirt and swoon Move on over make some room Stand around and watch the fight Two lovers got to uptight Early moring everyones passed out But by the fire me and you play about I can say it was a hell of a fun night Now we'll go to your home, finish what we started by that fire's light
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Apr 5, 2016
Apr 5, 2016 at 6:45 PM UTC
Halloween Party
he is sleeping and I know how he is grumpy if he is tired I know when he wakes up he'll be confused and vulnerable I know his eyes might hurt if he forgot to take out his contacts i know he won't be ready to wake even if he promised "just five more minutes" i know he'll be ready for a smoke as soon as he opens his eyes so ill wake him up with a kiss and a joint
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Mar 27, 2016
Mar 27, 2016 at 10:00 PM UTC
he is sleeping
I wear long coats and leather boots I wear long billowing skirts My hair dark and curly I sing the blues I drink gin and smoke **** I put the joint out with my finger tips I hike and make music with strangers I read poetry and politics I am friendly and confident I go to sunshine and music I dance bare foot I walk with beasts I tread lightly over the dead I see birds gather and hear my name called I look down I see dirt I see myself I see growing and potential I am not done growing yet I have not reached the canopy I have not caressed the sun I wait, biding my time I collect pieces of the dead I remember and take heed
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Mar 26, 2016
Mar 26, 2016 at 3:23 PM UTC
I
Humm......i can feel, it's all coming back to me. the long distant echo is now sounding so near, like a sweet sounding whisper. my iris is more relax now, an evidence of closer view. reverberation of its movement disturbs my hearing. silently perched birds are looking nervous, and are negotiating flight. what a sure sign of it all coming back to me.
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Jun 19, 2015
Jun 19, 2015 at 9:07 AM UTC
All coming Back...
Hovering, grey slow mist, I hover slowly remembering each word that was plucked from your mouth the night the clouds came. These words, stolen from my heart. Mind, makes decisions followed by regret. I watch you walk away, as I’ve done so many times before. My thoughts linger watching you become nothing but a memory made by silver linings, and golden dreams. I fear that even if I speak you won’t hear me, tangled in poison ivy thorns, I’ve lost you again. Wounds open, again. I take a moment to reject this pain. Fading as I drift away. Breathe deep, a weight is lifted. It hurts though, I’m half of the whole that we were. Here I am, Caught between the shutter of Memory, I hear a blue jay Flapping its cobalt wings. Clicking at me like your warnings Of how you'd leave if I Didn't love you the right way. If I would only begin to want you Out of the memories, Out of right now, and into The future. The signs were there, foreshadowed by cold, distant mornings, crippled by your escaped gaze. Chilling my spine, your thoughts, and desires left me, in a state of hallowed truth. Your beauty held back by selfishness, my jealousy poisoning your innocent smile.
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May 31, 2015
May 31, 2015 at 10:33 AM UTC
Bittersweet.
I'm waiting for the year 2020, Much eagerly. For thence shall commence, Our joint life. I'm preparing for it & rising, Much early.
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Mar 27, 2015
Mar 27, 2015 at 3:19 AM UTC
Twenty Twenty