"indica" poems
It takes me back
It pulls me close
To itself, I cannot leave
ln my dreams
While I dose
The summer scent of mango tree
I remember well
When we were young
My friend and I hung on its arms,
Cuddling the leaves.
Now remain
Just memories, echoes of a simpler past
The flowers promised
June was close
Summer's sins would be redeemed
By the childhood paradise
Salted raw mango slice
Overarching newborn smiles
Yellow sun on green leaves
Greenish-yellow chrysoberyl
Oasis of the summertime
I remember picking them up
From the rooftop of boyhood-life
Our winged friends came, bees, monkeys too
Attempting another bite
Fond, fond memories
Mother used to cut and bring us mangoes
While I tasted the golden slice
My granny told me stories of
The tree, it stood there when they built this house
When she was eight or nine
This fruit, this taste
Connects this land
Magnifera indica
The secular deity of the mango nation
You cannot begin to understand
The gift of Indian summer
My childhood wrapped in emerald leaves
The whiff, the scent, I transcend
Time;go to an age when all was well
Or at the least, to me it seemed
As I'm taking a bite of this season's last mango
As the golden drops stick to my pubescent stache
I remember a conversation I had
The mango tree
It talked to me
No, I'm not crazy
It was the mango tree
Little things in life
Leave something
Oh!so many memories
Mar 28, 2021
Mar 28, 2021 at 5:35 PM UTC
I look out at the light
red filling in my eyes
with Indica rising
I look like I
Am a textbook stoner
preparing for the test
by reading all the answers
there is no question left
except the meaning of life
which I might well express
except again, I thought up
another good question
again I realize that I
don't know for sure where my pipe is.
It's about this big. Like between the size of an index finger and a *****
I know that's vague because I didn't specify yours or mine
--But my ***** is twenty inches long
and a device that long would probably be a water pipe.
(I don't want to get arrested)
Obama's listening, oh
and I don't own one, oh
seriously, did you see where I put that ******* thing?
Jun 2, 2014
Jun 2, 2014 at 9:19 PM UTC
you fall like umbilical cords
for the purpose of befriending
bacteria at the site of your
bloated corpse collection.
the way you make me vibrate is a
witch trial, my talismans shaking
as i grasp the embryonic roots. do you
know what kind of flora we found
in the red maple swamp today? do you
wrap around the left horn of dionysus?
there is a space between your lips,
not the upper, not the lower, but the
plane at which they meet. this is where i
want to stir my cauldron, this is what i
want to bathe in poison.
water bearer! do not bring me
indica, do not bring me purple orchids,
i am only pleased by small mammals
writhing from the corners of your fangs
(a secret that can only be sealed sanguinarily).
and now tell me: when your veins
turn like supernovas, when your minions
dance for you in throngs, do you exhale
the debris? do you eat the coral berries?
do you remember when we hunted that
mammoth in full cryogene, in full rhapsody?
i held you at the sun's eclipse as time slid by like timid snakes.
Sep 22, 2013
Sep 22, 2013 at 1:43 AM UTC
It kills my high
when venom is spit
This enclosure,
unlike mine,
comes with a ****** narration
Mine hears birds and owls
wolves and crickets and bats
and sees quite often starlight
smells burning wood
regrettably the occasional crisp arachnid
Commonly scents of Cannabis Sativa, rarely Indica
Incense, and punks
There are sights of resin tables,
half-inflated air mattresses,
and ***** on the fence
Cling of fence gate
Car
Cry of relief or adventure
heat
sleep
aimlessness
Jan 29, 2013
Jan 29, 2013 at 10:10 PM UTC
What kind of drugs was he on
When he saw the unity of all things?
Which type of kush was he smoking?
Was it indica, sativa or hybrid?
This is a lazy man's enlightenment
To let the plants lead your mind
So whatever you may find
It was shown to you
How many shrooms did Moses eat
When he went up on that mountain?
What stage of schizophrenia was he at
When we thought he talked to God?
Could I jump three rings of density
If I get really high?
Fifth, sixth, seventh and the octave
Clear into a bigger sky
What was Siddhartha smoking
When he sat beneath that tree?
To see all faces in an instant
How he's linked up with me
Nov 26, 2018
Nov 26, 2018 at 6:05 PM UTC
The bills you get from an ATM located in a Headshop called the Refinery in the Valley are not going to be the same that you cash out of your local Wells Fargo.
They've been used before.
You can almost imagine the staff feeding the all-cash green you give them back into the machine (once a day when things are slow).
These are just facts.
When you say you don't want a 3:1 you want a 3:0... They show you a 3:1 anyways.
You know, the marketing system has really changed.
I get a discount for bringing in two newcomers.
My coworker keeps saying we are buying 'drugs'.
I tell her 'it's not "drugs";
even before the legislation passed, all you needed to say is that you had cancer and they would drive away ashamed for asking'.
I tell the staff I want something that will get me through the day,
nothing too crazy and I don't want to fall asleep.
I end up with a 3:1 CBD hybrid again.
I pay my 101.00 for the hybrid and a bit of gummy 50/50 Sativa and indica hybrid 'for the road'.
She giggles.
I remind her we have a whole department dedicated to this **** now,
she should act more professional as she selects her joints.
My other coworker gets a salve because his joints have their own problems.
Just another day with the work-family.
Jul 21, 2019
Jul 21, 2019 at 1:52 AM UTC
hehehe
tumble roll
roll a joint and
pack my bowl and I've got
a bit of mental lag so it's a
little hard to pack my bag 'cause
I'm a little fried maybe a little
charred even, totally
baked, I'm a cake frosted
but I haven't lost it,
Sometimes I'm a little confused
but I'm still baking!
whole wheat **** infused
chai tea orange zest cookies
yummy sativa,
a dash of indica but
whoa!
mmm they're
dangerously delicious
and one, two, three,
oops! that's four and
one more, they're just
so good! if only I could
stop!
but yummm
sat nammmnomnom
Feb 26, 2015
Feb 26, 2015 at 1:17 PM UTC
Altered Mind, body lifted up
Slow paced thoughts in the couch.
Foggy Feelings, feet in the air
Smoke filled eyes in the bed.
Racing Emotions, heart on my sleeve
Induced paranoia in the room.
Crushing down with hunger And fatigue. '
Thanks, Indica. I've had a great night with you
You made me feel special; like an angel.
Mar 4, 2019
Mar 4, 2019 at 10:09 PM UTC
I like to think I'm mysterious dark leave you delirious like a dream but I'm just a ****** up girl, not a French girl, just a girl with wide eyes on SSRIs who wishes she could do pills again so that she could fly and people tell me I look like a model- a model of what? Of what not to do in life? Of how to ****** yourself? Of how to
crumble like a $5 forever 21 highlighter in the sun and
play with guns and
have too much fun until
the crash hits and the cigarette's lit and the mania wears off and it's just me myself and I all alone at home thinking of the next girl or guy,
I'm not a French girl- I'm a throw a wrench in it girl, I smell like stress sweat and unpaid rent and guerlain perfume that I can't afford and all I want is to drown because I'm so ******* bored with FEELING! LIKE! **** take another hit in the self esteem, an indica dream and cry in the shower where they can't hear you scream, no brother no father just a deadbeat daughter with eyeliner that slaughters and way too many people who've been beating up on her
Oct 18, 2016
Oct 18, 2016 at 11:42 PM UTC
ah yeah
beautiful ladies
stretching up to the sun
what a gift
this little ****
see uh I been a grower
for some time now
grow that types a ****
make ya mind bow
gettin lower
on that cheeba
no not cheva
this is a killa weeda
so many strains
make ya heads spin
you like to stay up late
or get all locked in
see it don’t matter
which way ya wanna go
indica or sativa
I treat ya right, bro
see here in Oregon
we do things different
work a barter system
help each other pay rent
call me a socialist
like a give a ****
you be at my door
when ya havin hard luck
I’m a medical grower –
Son, I grow medicine
stopping censures
killin cancer
out my freezer
alcohol extracts
make all ya'll relax
no mo heart attacks
rushin like the train tracks
I grow medicine –
I grow out door
like that plant was meant to be
no chemicals
let that ***** grow free
feed em organic
lots a guano
watch the buds rippin
from the back po
see I’m a real farmer
have a long patient list
always lookin to add names
get the money makers ******
so I don’t charge much
just cost no overhead
I aint in this to get rich
that’s why I got this rap bread
I’m a medical grower –
Son, I grow medicine
stopping censures
killin cancer
out my freezer
alcohol extracts
make all ya'll relax
no mo heart attacks
rushin like the train tracks
I grow medicine –
Apr 2, 2015
Apr 2, 2015 at 4:06 PM UTC
overarching newborn smiles
yellow sun on green leaves
greenish-yellow chrysoberyl
oasis of the summertime
the promise of a dozen flowers
to monkeys of golden branches
summer's sins would be redeemed
by salted raw mango slices
the albums of the memories
echoes of a simpler past
I'm crazily hung on its arms
and cuddling the longed leaves
the scent of summer mangoes
pulls us closer to the seed
when eye closes for a dream
for the emerald is like a magnet.
the rooftop of boyhood-life
shines among fallen leaves
the treasure hunt for another bite
with bees,and monkeys;crazy sunlit,
the stories of my old granny
emerge the flavored palette
within mother queen's dishes~
the golden salty slices
the taste of magnifera indica
connects the lands of our subcontinent
The secular religion of our nations
the lesson is not complicated,
the gift of Indian summer
wrapped among jade leaves
decadent whiff and scent,
loops me into time travel,
to youth, when all was well;
the last slice of the seasonal bite
portraits of unheard prattle
of mighty trunk and the poet
under the shades of nature's battle.
Mar 29, 2021
Mar 29, 2021 at 7:07 AM UTC
While searching for Sougandhikam,
Four viruses barred Bheema’s way
He got flustered, unable to chase them
Using his mace and strong muscles
Sougandhikam was mis-spelt many times
Eyes got tired visiting all sites about flowers galore
Mukkutti.com, bougainvillea.com,
Orchid, leuca indica,
The thottavadi.com which shrank on contact with the mouse
Journey without fear of thorns
Flowers bloomed in the water springs of the rock-hard body
Muttered “flower”, “flower” frequently
Dot coms where fleshy blooms flourish
Time and again, forgot the wife who was insulted?
While sitting in amazement in front of a site about wrestlers,
A message
Subject hint about Sougandhikam
In the inbox, ‘black moon’ with the sings(symptoms) of Sougandhikam
He liked the fragrance-less flower from Latin America
Not a step more in this jungle,
He decided in his mind
And downloaded black moon
Morphed it, made slight changes
Then a color print
Panchali, who was bored stiff though she was the wife of five, jumped in glee
Took four Photostat copies of Sougandhikam and went to apply for a doctorate
An odorless lie bloomed in history.
Apr 7, 2014
Apr 7, 2014 at 5:13 AM UTC
crimson vibrations thread the silk song of pink flesh making love to strings of nickel
the crumbling of bark is comforted by the crackling of a cardinal’s hues
time is white like egg shells fresh with feathers
a face of determination lost in the depth of a temporary frustration
attempting to unearth a solid floor for exploration
the trembling question,
can it really happen?
could we build a home from elmer’s glue and a muted microphone?
fluorescent minds dance in smoke rings like Hawaiians
his eyes bleed wine,
and we find ourselves alone with the bittersweet night
May 1, 2016
May 1, 2016 at 11:09 PM UTC
Only in my state
Of punch-drunk
In love and
My buzzy body high
Can make me feel as if
I radiate poetry
May 6, 2013
May 6, 2013 at 4:43 PM UTC
i don't know how to feel
but i know how to not feel
indica induced insomnia
sativa suppressed sensation
porter perpetuated pablum
lambic lulled lamentation
holding it all together
in endless evolution
Apr 11, 2019
Apr 11, 2019 at 8:42 PM UTC
during the quietest nights of self-examination,
i have come to the saddest of conclusions that perhaps
this depth is not to be shared: i am meant to swim alone while only once or twice reaching the surface to refill ever drowning lungs,
watching the faces above shifting through translucent waters
some stop to stare and maybe stir the surface with their hands
because they have caught a glimpse of something unexplainable and shining
but never
diving far enough to explore
and through this process i have decided you don’t love me because you’ve never known me
you are just another curious passerby
who doesn't have the time to hold their breath.
Jun 12, 2015
Jun 12, 2015 at 4:01 AM UTC
Son miles las formas que
demuestran cuánto me amas.
Miles ósculos que alegran mi alma.
Esos besos en el frío de la aurora
que tibian mi cuerpo como lo hace mi frazada favorita.
esos besos que me das,
en esos tiempos, cuando todo falla, apoyándome con dulzura,
reforzando que nunca me abandonarías.
Esos besos, que son el inicio de una noche apasionada,
donde hacemos el amor
como lo hacen
la sábana y la cama.
Pero si te soy sincera,
amor y pasión de todos mis quimeras,
de todos esos besos,
cuando me besas en la frente,
es cuando más te amo.
Ese beso tan sutil,
esa manera tan delicada de alentar mi alma,
de consentirme como tú más preciada joya,
que me hace sentir como niña protegida,
cuando recibe las bendiciones antes de marchar de su casa y el mundo conquistar con grandes ilusiones.
Ese beso en la frente,
que indica tu admiración y respeto hacia mi persona;
Ya que a pesar de ser tu mujer independiente,
soy en tu vida,
tu preciada niña mimada
y
lo que más valoras.
Siempre bésame en la frente,
así sé que ¡todavía me amas!
LeydisProse
11/19/2017
https://m.facebook.com/LeydisProse/
Nov 19, 2017
Nov 19, 2017 at 1:58 PM UTC
Shaken
Left
Numb legs
Empty dreams
My left-hand trembles
Hand-written nonsense
I love you-- I'm IN love with you
Guitar string melody
Balancing on tightrope
Silver glistening moonbeams
Reflecting on your pale skin
Spinning hoops of brilliant red fire
Do you love me too?
Crisp Mountain stream picnic
Crunchy granola bites
Drunk on fine red wine
Painting your bare body
Racing through green campgrounds
7 am chasing monarchs
**** me under the willow tree
What to do, what to do...
Indica high
Music festival roots
Keep me grounded
Sleep with me each night
I dream of you
Your hazel eyes
Pink, blue, and orange clouds
Driving home at 2 am
Hold my hand
Whisper to me
May I keep you?
Oct 3, 2016
Oct 3, 2016 at 9:45 PM UTC
dead head
bed head
eyes red
the blood that you bled
on my soft hands
soaked into your bed
come close
in my bed
kingdom found,
to kingdom come
to dust we came, to dust return
with sin entwining
your cosmic body
ive seen your god
rearing his ugly head
thrashing and angry, I was unimpressed.
the archangel fallen
the blood that you bled
on my pale hands
soaked into your bed.
oh, samson.
the strongest man of god,
weakest man of sin
temptations
take my hand
your heart lies inside
follow me into the dark
your hair was long when you surrendered
let me take you down
and make you human again.
the fiery lake lies just ahead, calling your name
and it's all you see
fire burning in my eyes
you're numb to your surroundings
blinded by my desires
by a seven inch bloodstained blade
the blood that you bled
on my tainted hands
soaked into your bed.
my iron ship is docked on fiery shores
let me take you away
come with me
to a place untouched by human hands
where gods tread the paths I've made
and the songs of lost souls like mine
echo through the skies.
where moonlight follows my footsteps
my favorite sin smoldering between my fingers
hold.
yet I am your drug.
I am the taste of sativa through your teeth
and the electric pulses in your fingers
after a life time under indica's death like grip
I am the tab on your tongue
riding the waves in your neurons
obliterating the walls in your mind
between dreams and reality.
my war song pouring from your ears
can you hear it?
the blood that you bled
on my destructive hands
soaked into your bed.
my atrophied heart beats once
sending me crumbling
paralyzed on the brimstone ground
your body standing over mine
smoke from my cyanide laced flower
dripping from your lips
and what choice have I
but to breathe you in.
clinging to life at your fingertips,
I was never meant to fall
I was bred a warrior by nature,
heartbreaker by trade.
I dragged my body to the lake
and drowned in
the blood that I bled
at the hands of your god
soaked in to your bed.
Jun 30, 2015
Jun 30, 2015 at 11:49 AM UTC
And all the street lights at dawn always looked like pinned stars
Hanging low enough for man to touch
Under the pink swallows of sky
Barely loud enough to make me wonder
If God had sewn diamonds in our eyes
When we went into the world
And made it our own
Jan 26, 2016
Jan 26, 2016 at 5:19 PM UTC
Mmmm
Warm Sun
Baking my cold fingers
Into perfect temperature
Chocolate chip cookies.
Groovy beats tap tap tap
at my ear drums
boom boom tap boom boom tap
Swimming on my back in a bath
of red and orange
Cartooning and Contorting
Into the stomach
of the whale
Wind blows
I am too cold
Take me back
to warm, perfect cookies.
Like two perfect *******
to rest your head upon.
No greater comfort in the world than that.
Mar 25, 2019
Mar 25, 2019 at 9:05 PM UTC